Inked With Love Read online

  Inked With Love

  A Forbidden Romance

  S.E. Law

  S.C. Adams

  Copyright © 2022 by S.E. Law and S.C. Adams

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  About This Book

  Zoe:

  * * *

  I admit I’m a dirty girl. Behind my shy, nerdy exterior there lives a woman consumed with filthy, naughty fantasies. Even more, I like to draw in my diary, and lately, I’ve been sketching a lot of Dane Reston. He’s a tattoo artist with six pack abs, gorgeous artwork swirling all over his chiseled body, as well as a huge *you know what.* My challenge? Seeing it in real life.

  * * *

  Dane:

  * * *

  She thinks I don’t know, but trust me, I know. She thinks she’s so shy and demure, but it’s just a mirage. After all, I found Zoe’s diary, and now I’m going to show the curvy girl what *real life* tastes like. Fantasy? There’s no need to dream anymore … because she’s getting it hard if I have my way.

  This book was originally released as part of an anthology called The Boyfriend Diaries, but it’s been expanded and revised for your pleasure! Watch as Zoe and Dane make waves when they realize their mutual attraction. It may begin with dirty pictures, but their love becomes tattooed in ink before they know it. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride! This book is a follow-up to Mistaken for an Escort, but all of my stories are standalones and do not need to be read in order. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: Second Helpings

  About S.E. Law

  About S.C. Adams

  1

  Zoe

  * * *

  It’s a Saturday afternoon in late June and I’m soaking up every second of summer vacation. Living with my family, seeing my best friend every day, and being free of responsibility? This is the last time in my life I’ll ever have this privilege.

  Sure, I still have another year of high school left, but I’ll be bogged down with immensely important decisions such as: where do I go to school? What do I major in? Do I live in the dorms or commute? Maybe I’ll take a year off to travel and get to know myself. It’s a lot to think about and to help speed up the process, my parents even sent me off to New York recently in the hopes that I’d feel inspired while visiting schools. But to their chagrin, I didn’t set foot on a single campus. Instead, I spent my time flirting, talking with boys, and generally getting up to no good.

  But today, I’m putting all that out of my head. I’m eighteen, fancy-free, and soaking up the last of my time as a teen girl on the cusp of adulthood. Music plays on Spotify as I cruise the winding road to my friend Patty’s place. I know this route like the back of my hand as I’ve taken it hundreds of times. I would even walk the four-mile journey before I got my license, so I can probably manage it with my eyes closed at this point.

  What am I in the mood for? I think to myself, reading the names of various artists that pop up. The Stones, MGMT, Zeppelin? Oh yeah, Foster the People. Of course. It feels like a ‘Pumped Up Kicks’ kind of day.

  I turn up the volume and roll down the windows. The breeze ruffles my hair as I zip forward, singing along with the radio.

  “All the other kids with the pumped up kicks, you better run better run…” Thankfully I’m driving fast enough that people in passing cars can’t hear me belting out the tune. They’d probably cover their ears with horror, but I don’t care. I smile to myself, enjoying the feel of the warm weather and sunshine on the backs of my arms.

  It’s a beautiful day. The sun is out in Great Falls, Michigan and the view from Shoreline Drive is looking as beautiful as ever. To my right I can see the seemingly endless expanse of water beyond the bluffs; to my left are happy folks mingling in front of the coffee shop and the attached all-hours diner that marks the beginning of the main strip downtown.

  I know teenagers are supposed to loathe their hometowns because it’s just what we’re supposed to do. Being stuck at home is supposed to make life feel like one big drag and lead us to dream of better times and places. But I honestly love Great Falls. It’s about as close to Cali-living as you’re going to get in the Midwest, and I appreciate that. I adore warm weather and a laid-back attitude and maybe I’ll move to California one day, but for now, my hometown hits the spot.

  I think a lot of people agree because most folks who grow up here settle right in after high school and never end up leaving. This has created a tight knit community, making it the kind of place where everyone is familiar with everyone else. Especially me, considering my mom is the town’s hairdresser. She does all the women’s cuts and styles at a salon my dad built for her. It’s quite cunning. My dad remodeled the spare room at our house so that my mom can see customers without leaving me with a babysitter. That way, she could be both a mom and a professional, and have the best of both worlds.

  Plus, seeing as my room shares a wall with the salon, I get premium access to all the town’s juicy gossip. Not to mention, first dibs on all the sweets and goodies the women bring as gifts for the household, although my dad sometimes gobbles them up before I can get a chance. I’ll have to talk with him about that. No one should be eating that much candy and my dad is starting to get up there in age.

  But beyond our hospitable and friendly culture, my hometown is wonderfully scenic. It sits right on the rocky shores of the great Lake Michigan and is bordered on the east side by large oak forests with rushing rivers, some of which topple over into roaring waterfalls. I have spent many hours sitting in said woods with sketchbook in hand. For the nature enthusiast, the artist, the thinker, and people who enjoy the simpler things in life, Great Falls is a terrific place to live.

  I turn off Shoreline Drive and make my way into the first driveway on Apple Blossom Road. A sudden shiver of nervousness mixed with excitement runs up my spine when I spot a big black motorcycle in the driveway. Dane must be here. He’s Patty’s gorgeous older brother. He moved to an apartment downtown a couple years ago, and I haven’t seen him around in a long time.

  It’s a little sad, but I used to have the biggest crush on him. Okay, so I still have a crush on him, but a girl can dream right? Sure, he’s older than us, but Dane has always had a bad boy spirit which drew me like a magnet.

  I remember when Patty and I would sunbathe in beach chairs in the front yard. Dane would be skateboarding shirtless in the street with his friends and I could never take my eyes off him. He was always toned and tanned, and I always made sure I had sunglasses on hand so I wouldn’t be caught ogling him. It didn’t really matter anyways because Dane never paid me much attention. I was just his little sister’s friend and utterly invisible.

  I wonder if he’s still as hot as he used to be? Who knows? Maybe he let himself go.

  Secretly, I hope not though. I let myself in the front door and make my way to the kitchen where I can hear Patty and Dane play fighting. He’s clearly
winning by the frightening shrieks my friend is letting out between cries of laughter. I quietly slip around the corner and into the kitchen.

  Nope. Dane, definitely did not let himself go. In fact, is it possible that he got even better looking?

  I think it’s true because the man before me is no longer an adolescent boy. Before, he used to be lean and toned, with a lithe, narrow frame. But now he’s filled out. The man before me is built of muscle, with broad shoulders, bronzed skin, and a t-shirt that hugs his muscular physique. His hair is trimmed short, the black locks as dark as night, with blue eyes the color of sapphire. I shiver a little from the effect.

  But then Patty sees me and comes running.

  “Zoe!!! You’re here! Help!” she squeals as she slides across the floor in her socks, grabbing my shoulders for leverage to pull herself to a stop behind me.

  Dane turns to where his sister ran, and we momentarily lock eyes. His eyes flash when they meet mine, and he literally growls a bit. Hot tingles run down my spine, making me self-conscious, but I remind myself that he’s not growling for me. He’s growling because he’s trying to catch his sister. All the same, I feel my cheeks turn bright red and I turn my gaze just slightly towards the floor. He grins.

  “You’re not going to get away,” he grunts. I practically melt then because what does he do but take off his shirt before rolling it up like a boy in a locker room with a wet towel. I almost faint at the sight of his physique. He’s huge. His broad, muscular chest is covered in fascinating tattoos, and sleeves cover both of his arms. A tattoo sneaks its way down his abs to disappear into the waistband of his jeans, and my eyes go wide as I eye the bulge at his crotch. Does it continue down there? Oh god, I shouldn’t be thinking these things.

  I swallow hard and try not to stare, but it’s impossible. My eyes flick up again, and devour the sight of a large green dragon coiled around his left pec, as if guarding his heart. I can’t speak when suddenly, Dane springs into action.

  He runs at us, snapping his shirt around my back to whip Patty in the thigh. She grabs a hold of me, and before I can object, we’re tearing into the front room. Of course, I’m not exactly in shape, so my legs feel like they’re made of rubber. Squealing, I break Patty’s grip on my arm and drop clumsily onto the sofa, successfully removing myself from the action as the two of them continue to dash around like little kids.

  They go at it for another minute or two. Patty’s brown eyes grow wide as her brother swings her up and over his shoulder, a bit of a feat because Patty is a bigger girl like me. Then, he sets her down and she lands in a puddle of almond-colored hair at Dane’s feet. She finally calls out for mercy, tapping on the ground half in tears of defeat and half in tears produced from fits of laughter.

  Patty’s dad, Jim, hears the commotion and comes into the room. He is trying to contain his laughter at the sight of his two grown children sprawled out on the ground, looking disheveled and messy from their play fight.

  “Come on Dane, not in front of the company!” Jim mock scolds. “You’re seven years older than these girls, for crying out loud. The last thing we need is word getting out that you enjoy tormenting your little sister and her friend!”

  “Yeah, that’s what’s happening here Dad,” Dane says sarcastically as he pulls himself back to his feet. He reaches out a hand and helps Patty up off the ground as well. “If anything, they’re tormenting me.”

  I manage a small smile and wave.

  “Hey Mr. Reston.” I greet. “How’s it going?”

  “Oh you know, just enjoying a nice peaceful morning, as usual,” he says with a smile. “How are you, Zoe? It’s nice to see you.”

  “I’m good,” I smile. “Good to see you too, Dane.”

  Oh my god, how can there be so many “goods” in one sentence? I sound like a doll on repeat. But Dane merely laughs and turns to face me, sticking his hands halfway into his jean pockets.

  “Yeah, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you and the first thing I do is make you watch me terrorize my sister! Oh well, just like the good old days. How have you been? Pumped for senior year I bet?”

  Dane is talking to me. I can’t believe this. Dane never used to actually take an interest in my life.

  Then, I try to get a hold of myself.

  Oh, don’t be silly Zoe, he’s just being polite.

  “I’ve been great,” I manage with a smile. “And I’m definitely ready for senior year to come because I’m going to start applying to art schools in the fall.”

  Mr. Reston jumps in at this.

  “Ah, glad to hear you finally convinced your parents that art is your path in life.”

  I smile weakly in return because in fact, my parents still don’t approve. They think I need to find a “real career” and don’t think art is a viable option. It’s really frustrating, and I’ve talked to Patty’s parents about this more than I have my own. I’m grateful to her parents because it’s like having a second family that I can reach out to for advice. As a result, I’m pretty open with my struggles.

  “Actually, we still disagree on the matter, but I can’t imagine myself going to school for anything like business or accounting like my parents want me to. And it’s not like I am naïve or uninformed. I know it’s hard to make a living as an artist, but I love my art so I have to do it. I think I’m just going to apply and wait to see if I even get in anywhere before talking to my parents about this again.”

  I feel my chest grow heavy just discussing the subject. I hate to lie to Conrad and June, but I know I need to stay true to myself and my passions.

  “If you get in?” Patty exclaims, breaking out in laughter. She gets up and starts walking around the room, gesturing as if she is making a speech to a room filled with people. This is typical Patty for you: the entertainer. And she has fully embraced this archetype. She even does standup comedy at the monthly open mic nights hosted by the coffee shop downtown.

  “Do you hear that, guys? Zoe says ‘if’ she gets in! Silly, silly Zoe. Those schools would be insane to not accept you. Zoe is a young, hip Salvador Dali, Picasso, or Monet. I’d say Van Gogh but I really don’t want you to have to lose an ear because that would be awful.”

  Dane takes this opportunity to study me, and I feel my heart fluttering under his intense blue gaze.

  “Is that right?” he asks in a low voice. “You’re an artist?”

  I nod.

  “Yeah, my parents aren’t really into it, but I love being creative. I can’t imagine going to school for anything else.”

  He looks thoughtful and then nods.

  “You have to follow your passion,” he says finally. “There’s no other way to live life.”

  His words make sense because Dane is an artist too. He works at a tattoo parlor downtown, and he’s developed quite a name for himself. I know people come from miles around, and sometimes even other states, to get their tattoos done by him. He’s unparalleled when it comes to the look of fine brushwork, and I’d love to talk with him more about this.

  But of course right now, I’m utterly tongue-tied. I want to respond with something intelligent, inspirational, and even moving. Instead, all I can do is stare back with a wildly cheesy smile. The handsome man smirks playfully and then turns to the door, grabbing a black backpack on the way.

  “See you guys,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ll catch you next weekend. Bye Dad, bye Pats. Bye Zoe.”

  Then, the roar of his Harley sounds in the driveway, and we see a dark figure zoom off down the street.

  “Next weekend?” I ask my friend. “What’s going on next weekend? I thought your brother hardly ever came home anymore.”

  She nods.

  “Silly, did you forget? It’s our annual Fourth of July bash. You’re coming right?”

  I nod furiously.

  “Oh of course, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The words seem to echo as they leave my lips. The air in the room feels thick, the floor unsteady beneath my feet. He’ll be back next weekend, an
d I’m aroused merely from the thought. It’s crazy. Patty doesn’t notice, thankfully, because she’s too wrapped up talking smack about her brother.

  “You know, this will be the first year he doesn’t bring a date to the party. Or at least, if he is, he hasn’t told us yet. Hoochie mamas, Zoe! That’s all he ever dates. He has a thing for bimbos that get all excited at the sight of a motorcycle and tattoos. Could you imagine if he started smoking? These girls would be dropping dead at his feet. I don’t get it. I mean, sure Dane can be cool sometimes. But I just don’t see the allure.”

  I do. I would drop dead at Dane’s feet for just one date with him. I understand the allure plenty well. But it sounds like I have some stiff competition.

  “So, you haven’t liked any of your brother’s girlfriends? Even once you got past the initial hoochie mama first impression?” I ask.

  Patty shrugs.

  “They never last long enough to find out what’s beneath the Daisy Dukes and tiny tank-tops. And the fake boobs, too, whoo-wee! I wonder how he doesn’t bounce off of them when they’re in bed. I’m telling you, Dane is nothing but a man-whore.”

  I grimace internally, even as I try to smile. Thankfully, Mr. Reston’s disappeared, so he’s not hearing this, but I wish I could be one of those hoochie mamas. I have the figure because I’ve got huge breasts and an enormous ass, but I’m way too shy to wear short shorts or any kind of revealing top. It’s just too risky. My ta-tas could burst out at any second, and I’d be humiliated for life.