Wrong for Me Read online

  The man laughed, then sauntered over to the metal counter where the register was, going behind it and bending to fiddle with something. Instantly the house beat was gone, replaced by something quieter and folkie.

  Which was kind of weird for a tattoo studio, but then this guy obviously worked here, so who knew?

  The guy straightened, then, spotting Levi sitting there, he came around the counter and approached the couch, a friendly smile on his face. “Hey, can I help you?”

  Not in the mood to chat, Levi didn’t smile back. “No.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed, his gaze dropping to the black bands around Levi’s arms. “Nice blackwork. Who did it?”

  An artist in prison. With staples and stolen ink. The tattoos had taken forever, hurt like fuck, and cost him a shitload. But the pain had been a kind of meditation, a way to pass the time. And the rings, well . . .

  “No one you know,” Levi said.

  The man stared at him a long moment. “You’re Levi, aren’t you? Rachel’s friend.”

  There was something about the look in the guy’s dark eyes that Levi didn’t like. “What’s it to you?”

  The friendly manner had dropped from the other man entirely. He put his hands in the pockets of his low-slung, ripped jeans, giving Levi an unfriendly look. “I’m Xavier,” he said. “I work here with Rachel. And I hear you’re blackmailing her.”

  Levi almost laughed. “Is that what she told you?”

  “I don’t give a shit if you’ve just come out of jail or what.” Xavier’s stance was all aggression, the look on his face grim. “She’s my friend, and, if you hurt her, I’ll fucking hurt you back. That’s all I’m saying.”

  For a minute Levi just sat there and stared at the other man, debating whether or not to drag him outside and beat the shit out of him. Because he could. He’d gained himself quite a reputation inside for being able to take care of himself and deal with anyone else who fucked with him, and although this guy looked strong, Levi was pretty confident he could take him down if necessary.

  But then that would probably violate the terms of his parole quite significantly, and Levi wouldn’t risk going back inside just for the pleasure of putting his fist in this asshole’s face.

  Fuck’s sake, not everyone is a threat. You’ve been inside way too long.

  Yeah, Christ, he had. Time to chill the hell out.

  He lifted his shoulder. “Rachel can take care of herself. She’s a grown woman.”

  Xavier glowered at him, clearly spoiling for a fight. “If you want to talk to her, she’s busy with a client.”

  “I can see that. I’m not fucking blind.”

  The other man’s expression darkened even further. Without taking his gaze off Levi, he said, “Yo, Hamilton. You got someone here to see you.”

  At that, Rachel finally looked up from her work, glancing over to where Levi sat, her eyes meeting his. And he felt desire hit him like a brick to the head, a kind of shuddering impact that he felt right down to his bones.

  Yet her face remained expressionless, and, after a moment, she glanced back down at the arm she was in the process of inking, as if she didn’t give a shit Levi was sitting there waiting for her. As if he were just another client waiting for her artistry.

  “I’ll be another ten minutes,” she said, and raised her tattoo gun again.

  Whatever, he wasn’t going anywhere. He could sit here all day if necessary.

  Xavier eventually left Levi alone as another client came in, and Levi just sat there, leafing through various tattoo and hipster fashion magazines, waiting until Rachel finished up.

  It wasn’t ten minutes in the end but half an hour, and as her client went out the door and she finished cleaning up her station, Levi pushed himself to his feet and stood there, his arms folded, waiting.

  She didn’t look at him as she put her equipment in an autoclave and pulled off the disposable latex gloves she wore, throwing them into a wastebasket under the long counter that ran the length of the wall. Taking her own sweet fucking time.

  Eventually though, she turned and came over to where he stood.

  She wore a tight strapless top made out of some kind of silvery fabric and formfitting leggings of black leather. On her feet were a pair of black, platform boots with silver buckles. Black eyeliner ringed her eyes, along with more of that silvery shadow he recognized from the night before.

  She looked tough and edgy and so goddamn sexy he had to drop his arms and put his hands in the pockets of his jeans to stop from reaching for her.

  “Gideon is pretty pissed off about the way you left last night,” she said after an awkward moment of silence.

  Yeah, he knew that. He’d seen the texts his friend had left, and heard the annoyed voice mail message. And he did feel pretty bad about it.

  But after what had happened between him and Rachel, Levi hadn’t been able to face sitting back down with the others and drinking beer like everything was fine. Especially with a hard-on the size of Texas in his jeans.

  “I know,” he replied. “I’ll talk to him later. Right now, you and I need to have a conversation.”

  “Great.” Her expression was shuttered. “Another conversation. Just what I need.” She folded her arms. “Will I have to be naked for this one too? Because I don’t think I want to have it here if that’s the case.”

  Looked like Gideon wasn’t the only one pissed with him, not that Levi was surprised given the way he’d left her. Good. That was what he’d intended.

  He studied her, noting the dark circles beneath her eyes. “I told you I’d make you suffer.”

  A faint stain of color washed over her cheekbones. “I didn’t suffer.”

  “Why not? Did you touch yourself, sweetheart?”

  The color deepened until her cheeks were almost the same red as the vivid red ink of the rose drooping over her bare shoulder and the scatter of petals falling over the smooth skin her chest.

  Weird that someone who looked so edgy should be so goddamn prudish.

  Abruptly she turned and glanced to where Xavier was, chatting with his client as he inked the guy’s back. “Can we do this somewhere else?” she murmured. “I’m not talking to you about this here.”

  Damn straight they weren’t. “I wasn’t planning on talking to you here. I have something to show you.”

  Her brow creased. “What?”

  Without thinking, he held out his hand to her. “Come on. You’ll see.”

  Her gaze dropped to the hand he held out, but she made no move to take it, leaving him standing there like a tool with his hand extended.

  Fuck that.

  He reached forward and grabbed one of her hands, closing his fingers around it tightly. All the muscles in her arm went stiff, a gleam of anger in her eyes, and he could feel her resisting him.

  He held on tighter. “I said, come on.”

  The anger glittered brighter, but the resistance in her arm faded. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  That didn’t win him any points either—he could tell by the stubborn cast to her jaw—but she said nothing, merely calling out something to Xavier about going out for a bit, then letting him lead her out of the studio and back into the summer heat.

  She remained quiet as they walked along the sidewalk, her hand unmoving in his. Maybe it had been a mistake to take her hand, because all it did was make him bitterly conscious of the softness of her skin against his, of the warmth of her.

  He’d planned to show her the apartment, but he’d wanted at least a bed in there before he actually screwed her. Somewhere to get comfortable, where they could both settle in, because this wasn’t going to be fast and over before he knew it. He wanted to take his time.

  Levi glanced down at the hand holding Rachel’s. At the black letters he’d had inked into the backs of his knuckles as another reminder, the PATI that went with the ENCE on the other hand.

  Patience.

  Yeah, he had to remember that. He�
��d had to learn how to cultivate that patience through all the years inside, and it had been tough, but he’d learned. Just like he’d learned all about control.

  Patience and control were the keys to power, to getting shit done. And that hadn’t changed just because he was out.

  Rachel said nothing as they walked. She didn’t look at him. Her hand was relaxed in his, but he didn’t make the mistake of thinking she was comfortable with it where it was. She was only doing this because he’d blackmailed her into it. Just like her letting him touch her upstairs in Gideon’s office had been.

  A heavy, uncomfortable sensation moved in his chest, and it felt like regret, which annoyed him. Because regret wasn’t going to get him what he wanted. Only patience, only control. Only focusing on his goddamn goal.

  Besides, she might only be doing this because of the blackmail, but she’d definitely wanted him. Hell, he’d felt the proof of that himself, in the wet heat of her pussy against his fingers, in the way she’d moved against his hand, wanting more.

  She did want him. She just didn’t like the fact that she did. Which was fine; he could work with that. In fact, it might just make everything that much sweeter.

  Five minutes later, Levi unlocked the door to his apartment building and led her inside. There was a small foyer area with stairs circling up above their heads and an antique-looking cage elevator right in front of them.

  He strode to the elevator, pulling aside the sliding metal screen that was its door and gesturing her into it. She went without a word, not looking at him as he pulled the metal screen shut and punched the top-floor button. The elevator jerked, then started going up.

  It was a tiny space, and she was standing so very close to him. Her scent made his mouth go dry, and he couldn’t stop looking at the way her silvery top molded to the luscious curves of her breasts. He wanted to push the fabric down, trace the scatter of rose petals with his tongue, free her tits, put his mouth on her skin, lick her up like honey. Suck on her nipples and make her scream . . .

  Her gaze flicked to his, then away again, color creeping over her lovely skin, the space between them hot and thick with tension.

  So, she knew what he was thinking? Good.

  The elevator came to a jerking halt, and Rachel was reaching out for the metal handle, hauling the door of the cage aside as if she was desperate to get out. Desperate to get away from him.

  He made no move to stop her, because again, he wasn’t going to have her quick and dirty, and certainly not in a fucking elevator.

  Patience and control. That’s how it was going to be until he got what he wanted.

  He was going to make her beg, and nothing was going to happen until she did.

  * * *

  Rachel was shivering, her heart thundering; she was desperate to breathe. She didn’t know what he’d done to her, but the way he’d looked at her had brought back all those feelings from the night before. The desperate, unfulfilled ache. The tight, hard knot of pleasure. The choking shame. And all she could think about was getting out of the fucking elevator, getting away from him.

  She stepped out of the little iron cage, putting some distance between them and walking quickly into the center of the small hallway the elevator opened out onto.

  Then she stopped short, realizing there was nowhere else to go except down the stairs off to her right. Swallowing, she tried to get a grip on herself. Tried to ignore the way her breasts felt heavy and full, the fabric of her top rubbing against her sensitized nipples. It made her want to shiver.

  Damn him.

  “What the hell are we doing here?” she demanded, not looking at him and hunching her shoulders as he came up beside her.

  She’d thought this building had been just another of the abandoned ones, and yet, when he’d unlocked the door and taken her inside, the place had been clean. There was no trash in the corners or graffiti on the walls. The windows all had glass in them, and there had even been lighting. Totally different from her tattoo building when she’d moved in, when it had taken her a week just to clean up the trash on the ground floor.

  “You’ll see.” Levi continued past her and on down the hallway to where there was a door, his boots making scraping noises on the bare wooden floor. He stopped in front of the door, getting his keys out.

  She stared at his tall, broad figure, the fascinating black bands around his arms highlighting the perfect muscularity of his biceps and forearms as he reached for the keys. He was in a blue T-shirt today, the color deepening the dark gold of his skin and hair, a pair of old and faded jeans sitting low on his hips. He bent his head as he fit the key into the lock, and she found herself staring at the strong column of his neck, the odd vulnerability of his nape. Her fingers itched, like she wanted to touch him there, stroke him, feel the silky soft curls of his hair against her skin.

  A weird thing to think of doing. Especially when touching him anywhere was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Sure you don’t. You couldn’t stop thinking about it last night. You can’t stop thinking about it now.

  Rachel stuffed her hands into her pockets and bit her lip. Well, it was true she hadn’t been able to sleep very well the night before, but that wasn’t because of Levi. Definitely not.

  Liar.

  She bit her lip. Hard.

  When she’d finally gotten home from Gideon’s, she’d thought she was okay, that she’d successfully packed away all those unwanted physical feelings into a box in the corner of her mind somewhere, never to be opened again.

  But after lying awake for hours, unable to sleep, she’d finally been forced to admit to herself that far from being successfully packed away, those physical feelings were somehow leaking out, making her restless and hot and achy.

  Her mind kept replaying the feel of his fingers on her, the heat of his body behind her, the way he’d held her, touched her, over and over again. Until she’d had to get up and have a very long, very cold shower just in order to get some sleep.

  Even now she could still feel that ache, the slow, steady pulse of desire between her thighs.

  And along with it, that horrible, dirty feeling, the way she’d always felt after Evan—

  No. Think of the beach. Think of the goddamn beach.

  Levi pushed open the door at last and turned, gesturing her inside. The look on his face was completely enigmatic.

  “What’s in there?” she asked, a weird foreboding tightening in her gut.

  “You’ll see.”

  “Levi . . .”

  “Go in, Rachel.”

  Ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. There was no reason to be afraid to walk through that doorway. And since when had she ever given in to fear anyway?

  Pulling herself together, she brushed past him and stepped through the doorway into another short hallway.

  She walked down it, not bothering to see whether or not he’d followed her, coming to a big arched entranceway that led into the most stunning apartment she’d ever seen.

  Stopping dead in the entranceway, she stared around her, eyes wide.

  There was no furniture, but the brick walls looked to have been freshly painted white, while the wooden floorboards had been stripped back, polished, then varnished. Big windows let in lots of light, making the rich honey of the floorboards almost glow. The ceilings were high, giving the place an airy feel and making it seem huge.

  She took a few steps into the empty room, the sounds of her footsteps echoing. The smells of fresh paint and varnish lingered in the air.

  The room seemed familiar to her somehow, as if this was an apartment she’d once been in or seen a picture of somewhere. An apartment she’d once thought she’d love to live in. Because it was definitely the kind of place she’d always thought was really cool. Lots of space and full of light.

  Nothing she could ever afford herself of course.

  Levi’s footsteps sounded behind her. “What do you think?’

  She turned and met his intense blue and black stare. “W
hat do you mean ‘what do I think’? I don’t know what this place is or why I’m here.”

  Levi walked over to the windows in a kind of long, loping stride that had her watching the way he moved, unable to take her eyes off the sheer athletic grace of him. He stopped, glancing out the window before looking back at her.

  The sun coming through the glass picked up the gold in his dark tawny hair, catching the same glints in his ridiculously long eyelashes. It made his one dark eye seem even darker, the blue of the other lighter, and glinted off the eyebrow ring in his left eyebrow.

  Her heart lurched stupidly. He was so hot he almost didn’t seem real.

  Another feeling she remembered: the horribly painful crush she’d once had on him. Now it was as if she were standing on the edge of that precipice again, teetering on the brink, part of her wanting to throw herself off it and fall.

  She’d always thought it would hurt to land, that it would break her. But the falling . . . God, the falling would feel so good.

  Are you insane? Now?

  Yeah, things were different now. He had changed so much he was almost unrecognizable as the friend he’d once been. The boy whose smile used to brighten her whole day.

  There were no smiles now, and as Levi braced one forearm on the window frame and leaned against it, his gaze was intense, compelling. “You’re here because I wanted you to see what our apartment will look like,” he said in that rich, rough voice of his.

  She frowned, not understanding. “Our apartment?”

  “This place. This is our apartment, Rachel. Yours and mine.”

  “What? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t live with you. I’ve got my own place down on Park Street.” It was her gran’s cheap, crappy apartment that was even crappier but unfortunately no more cheap now.

  He shifted against the window frame, the sun following the perfect lines of his face, catching a hint of gold stubble along his strong jaw. “Remember we talked about it once? We were having a conversation about our ideal places to live, and you told me you wanted an apartment that had lots of space and lots of windows.”

  Tension was knotting inside her. There was something about this place, something about the look on his face, in his eyes, that was making her feel . . . half afraid, half angry. “Yeah?” She couldn’t keep the impatience out of her tone. “And?”