BULLET is going live on Amazon November 7!
Here’s a sneak peek of Chapter 1…
BULLET: LORDS OF CARNAGE MC
“Is it the number of times you’ve broken a man’s heart?” he teases me. “Because if so, you’re about to make it number seven.”
I laugh in spite of myself. “No, that’s not it either. Face it, you’re never going to get it.”
“Would you tell me if I did?” Bullet challenges. He gives me a sexy wink. “Come on, now. I bet I already guessed weeks ago.”
“No, you honestly haven’t,” I tell him, flushing slightly.
Although he is right.
I wouldn’t tell him, even if he guessed.
The name I go by — Six — is a frequent source of interest and amusement here at Rebel Ink. Though, if you wanted to find a place where a weird first name would blend in, a tattoo parlor is probably one of your best bets. I work here as a receptionist and aspiring tattoo artist. I fit right in among Chance, Sumner, Hannah and Dez. Most of my customers hardly even blink when I tell them my name. Hell, a lot of them go by handles even stranger than mine.
Like Bullet, for example.
But so far, Bullet is the only one of our customers who’s been this insistent on trying to find out what my name means. The first time he came into the shop — all leather-clad, tattooed, and gorgeous — and introduced himself, I tried to deflect his question by pointing out that his name was just as weird as mine.
But then he immediately told me his real first name is Wyatt, and that Bullet is the road name given to him by the Lords of Carnage MC. Apparently, ‘road name’ is what motorcycle clubs call the nicknames their members go by. If he can be believed, Bullet has an actual bullet lodged in his body. Hence the choice of monikers.
And hence why he keeps insisting I need to reciprocate, and reveal to him why I go by Six.
Bullet leans forward now, one elbow propped up on the counter of the reception desk that separates us. He’s close enough to me that I can’t help but notice the flecks in his golden-brown eyes. Beneath his short, dark beard, one corner of his full mouth twitches with mischief.
“I think I know what Six stands for,” he murmurs in a low voice. There’s an intimacy to his tone that sends heat straight to my core. Dammit, this man has no business being this hot. I swallow audibly and try to look unaffected by his words.
“Oh yeah?” I retort, but my voice comes out a little less steady than I want it to.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s the number of times I’m gonna make you come.”
Jesus. His words are so unexpected that I pull back in surprise, knocking a cup of pens and pencils off the counter and onto the floor. The clatter is loud, and I jump, pulse rate spiking as my heart starts to hammer in my chest.
“Sorry to startle you, darlin’.” Bullet gives me a wicked, satisfied smirk. He glances down at the mess I’ve created. “You need some help with that?” he asks, lifting an amused brow.
“No, no,” I mumble hastily as I bend down behind the counter to gather up the pens. I feel my cheeks flush even redder than before. Bullet loves to flirt with me when he comes into the shop, but my God. He’s never said anything remotely that direct before.
If it was any other guy, I’d give him a piece of my mind. I might even go as far as to tell the owner, Chance, that one of his customers was sexually harassing me.
But as I pick up the cup and pens with shaking hands, I realize there’s a reason I won’t say anything to Chance. And it isn’t because Bullet is a member of the Lords of Carnage MC — the local motorcycle club that gives our shop all of their tattoo business. It’s not even because I’m afraid of getting on the wrong side of a man who’s probably not used to being refused anything, by anyone.
The real reason I won’t say anything?
It’s because I’ve fantasized about exactly what Bullet just said.
Waymore than six times.
While I’m still down on the ground, I take advantage of the two or three seconds where I’m hidden from view to take some deep breaths and try to come up with a smart-alecky response — one that won’t reveal to Bullet how rattled I am. But thankfully, just as I’m picking up the last pen, my boss, Chance Armstrong, comes striding down the hall.
“Bullet. My man,” his booming voice calls out in greeting. “Shit, you’ve been in here a lot lately. You here for some more ink?”
I stand up awkwardly just in time to see Bullet turn and lift his chin at Chance. “Hey, man. Yeah.” He grins easily, spreading his hands. “What can I say? I got some time, and some space to fill.”
“This is the third tattoo in two weeks,” I point out, breathing a little sigh of relief that the subject has been changed. “I don’t know how you have any more space on your body left.”
For some reason, even saying the word bodyin reference to Bullet makes me shiver a little, but I try hard to ignore it.
Bullet glances at me, looking slightly feral. “Don’t worry, I still got some room.” He winks at me again, and my mind can’t help but slide into dangerous territory, wondering exactly where he is and isn’t tattooed.
A low thrum starts up on my skin, which feels almost electric. I try to ignore it, but it does no good.
“Shit, Bullet, I don’t have any open appointments until later this afternoon,” Chance frowns, glancing at the clock on the far wall. “I guess I can fit you in though, if you want to come on back.”
“Actually,” Bullet replies easily, “I was thinking Six could do the tat.”
What the what?
“Me?” I ask in surprise. I glance uncertainly from Bullet to Chance. “But… I mean… I’m still in training.”
“I trust you,” Bullet murmurs. “You’ve been training with Chance for a while now, right? He wouldn’t have taken you on if he didn’t have confidence in you.”
Actually, Chance took me on as a favor to Hannah. She started out here as a receptionist, too. Chance didn’t know me from Adam (or Eve) when I first walked in the door to Rebel Ink. I’ve worked my ass off to pay him back for taking a chance on me, learning everything I could and taking all the grunt jobs just to show him how thankful I am. So far, he’s never had any cause to complain about me. He’s even said once or twice that I’m a quick learner, and that I have a good eye.
Still, it’s one thing to do a simple flower on some twenty-year-old girl’s ankle. It’s entirely another to ink a member of an outlaw motorcycle club. I could completely ruin Rebel Ink’s reputation with the MC if I fuck it up. If Bullet’s tattoo turns out bad, and one of the other Lords asks about it, that would be enough to harm the shop. Which is why I look again at Chance, hoping like hell he’ll refuse.
But instead, he just gives us a brief nod and shrugs.
“Sure. I’ll have Dez come out and man the phones,” he says swiveling on his booted heel. “Come on back, Bullet. I can come in and supervise Six while she works.”
Desperately, I cast around in my head for some excuse to say no. But before I know it, Chance and Bullet are already walking down the hall toward one of the free rooms.
With a helpless sigh, I stand up and follow them, stomach already churning. On the way down the hall, Chance stops by Dez’s room and tells him to go out front and man the desk for me.
Then, almost before I know it, I’m sitting on a stool, with Bullet in front of me.
Looks like this is happening.
Well, shit. Here goes nothing, right?
* * *
BULLET will release on Amazon Thursday, November 7!