Rough & Raw (Notorious Devils Book 2) by Hayley Faiman

Author:Hayley Faiman [Faiman, Hayley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: A Notorious Devils Novel, Book Two
Publisher: Hayley Faiman
Published: 2016-06-26T21:00:00+00:00

Brentlee

The sound of buzzing needles fills the space, and I shiver at the idea of getting these tattoos. Bates doesn’t want just one tattoo branding me as his. No, he wants two. One of his road name, Sniper, the other of his legal name, Bates.

How I let him talk me into this, I don’t know.

That’s a lie. I do know. It was the look in his eyes when he asked me, the happiness that filled them. I couldn’t deny him, not when he looked so fucking happy and then relieved.

Now, I’m standing in a tattoo parlor waiting for my turn. I still don’t know exactly what I want. I honestly don’t care. Whatever makes Bates happy, that’s what I want. It may sound silly, naïve, and passive, but it’s what I want. His happiness.

“Bates, brother,” a man says walking up to us. He’s got long hair pulled up in a man-bun, just the way Fury wears his, and he’s covered from neck to knuckles in black inked tattoos.

“Hey, man,” Bates grins as he shakes the man’s hand. “This is my woman, Brentlee,” Bates introduces. The man grins.

“You’re the famous Brentlee. I’ve heard of you,” he chuckles. “They call me Dragon,” he says, shaking my hand.

“Are you a Notorious Devil?” I ask quietly. He chuckles.

“Naw, but I do all their work; so I guess I’m kinda honorary, you’d say,” he laughs before he turns and walks to the back of the parlor.

Bates wraps his hand around mine and pulls me behind him as he follows. We pass people getting work done—arms, legs, hips, backs and chests, all on display and getting adorned with what will hopefully be masterpieces.

We follow Dragon into a little room, and Bates closes the door behind me.

“What and where, babe?” Dragon asks.

“I have absolutely no clue,” I confess with a shrug. He starts laughing.

“You want Sniper somewhere, yeah?”

“Sniper and Bates. Script, girlie, but that’s all I know.”

“Snipe, you want a tramp stamp of that shit? Great viewing pleasure,” Dragon chuckles. I scrunch up my nose at the idea of a tramp stamp.

“Fuck, no. How about Sniper on her hip and Bates across her ribcage, wrapping around where her heart is?” he murmurs. I gasp. It sounds so pretty.

“How you want me to weave that shit in, flowers? If you say butterflies, I’m kicking your ass out,” he announces. It makes me giggle.

“I hate butterflies. How about a pretty feather, Bates, and an arrow underneath? The hip I’ll just make black scroll, girlie and delicate?” Dragon asks. I smile widely. It sounds so cool. I look up to Bates and he grins.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts.

That’s what I spend the rest of the afternoon doing, getting my man’s name inked on two separate places of my body.

The tattoo needle feels like hundreds of little ant bites; it’s annoying, but it doesn’t hurt. I’ve had worse pain inflicted on me, so this is nothing. Dragon finishes the hip piece in what seems like mere minutes. Then he has me sit up and lift my shirt on the opposite side.

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