Intimately Inked [manxman]

Chapter One

*Excerpt only! Full book will be available on Galatea in one week! Thank you guys so, so much for your support. Without you reading this story, the move to Galatea wouldn't be possible <3

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Silence filled the shop. Only one appointment was left for the day, and walk-ins were rare. Yet, I found myself sitting in my office turned studio, tongue stuck out the side of my mouth, brow furrowed in concentration as I lost myself in the lines of my latest drawing. There wasn't much time before my last appointment came in, and around that same time, my daughter would get off the bus in front of the shop, waltz right in like she was the queen, and sit at her own little desk I put in my studio just so she could draw or work on homework while she waited for me to finish for the evening.

Black lines swirled around the lavender page, resembling birds on a decrepit willow tree. The blackness of the pen matched my silky ink-colored hair that I kept in a loose bun while I worked. Black, thick-framed glasses kept sliding down my nose, frustrating me. I pushed them up with my free hand and bit my lip, working at the shading on the side of the tree. It was as thick as the black liner that I traced around my amber-colored eyes that morning.

Jumping when the front bell rang, I cursed under my breath, looking at the thick, black line that'd skittered across the page. Grimacing at the mistake, I rolled my eyes, shoved the paper to the edge of the desk,and stood up, walking out of the studio.

The lobby hanging right off the side of my studio was all black marble with sharp white accents to spruce it up. The furniture, decor, and frames around the art on the walls consisted of an amalgamation of the entire color spectrum. Half of it was my personal enjoyment in clashing the absurdity of the decor with the modern sleekness of the room, and half of it was going along with my young daughter's suggestions when I last renovated my shop.

Either way, I'd grown to love the contradiction of it, and slowly but surely, all of my clients had too.

On the opposite side of my obnoxiously violet desk stood a man with dirty blond, almost brown hair, that just barely reached my height. He had powder blue eyes, a dimple in his left cheek, and it looked as though he'd put gel in his hand and rubbed his hair every which way that morning. He wore a pair of tight, black jeans and a gray sweatshirt with 'DANCE' printed in cursive, black letters.

He smiled brightly, making eye contact with me. "Hi, I stopped by for an appointment."

I blinked and glanced down at my sheet. Sebastian Keys... I glanced back up at the man. "You must be Sebastian," I said, smiling politely. "You're here a bit earlier than I expected."

"Sorry," Sebastian said sheepishly, wrinkling his nose. It was cute. "I just finished up unpacking, and I'm trying to kill some time before my daughter gets off the bus. Were you busy?"

"No, not really." I shrugged, shoulders tensing as I felt the air of discomfort radiating off Sebastian. As an empath, that was normal. What differentiated me from other empaths was that I was a people pleaser every chance I got. "In fact, it works out perfectly that you're here now. You were my last appointment for the day, so this means I can close up shop early." My daughter, Blaine, had been bugging me about going to see the new art exhibit at the museum downtown, so leaving early could give me enough time to do it.

"Happy I could help then." Sebastian grinned.

"So, were you looking to get the tattoo done today or did you just want the art consult?"

"Just the art for today. I don't think my daughter can sit still long enough for me to get the piece too."

I nodded. "How old is she?"