Dare To Love Series: Daring Ink (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read Free

Florida knew. The thief would get blocked from working with every reputable tattoo artist in the state.
    The alarm on her phone went off. Time to go in, but not before she got Mr. Football to give up the name of his tattoo artist.
    *****
    Sawyer did math problems in his head to keep from sprouting a tree in his trunks as he watched Penny bend over and pick up her towel. The last thing he needed was to be a grown man with a public boner. Seeing her last night in just the T-shirt had been tantalizing. Seeing her clad only in a green bikini that matched the vine tattoo curving around her hip and up her side, was beyond tempting.
    “Roll your tongue up, man.” D’Andre Johnson winged a bottle of sunscreen at him, hitting him square in the chest. “You’re embarrassing me.”
    “Like that’s possible.” The Miami Thunder backup cornerback was many things—loud, wild, loyal to the bone—but easily embarrassed wasn’t one of them.
    “I’m sure it’s happened—once maybe.” D’Andre laughed.
    Sawyer tore his gaze away from his sexy neighbor. So she was behind the noise complaint notes slipped under his door. The highly-detailed doodles on the plain white paper made sense, now that he knew she was a tattoo artist who owned her own studio. After delivering Annabeth into the taxi, he’d pulled them all out and read them again. She had neat, precise handwriting but the drawings around the words were unrestrained and passionate. Which version would show up in bed? He had stroked his cock thinking about her naked in his bed and watching her transform from uptight businesswoman to wild artist.
    “What’s wrong,” D’Andre asked. “She turn you down?”
    There was no way he was going into details with his old teammate. Some humiliations stayed in the vault. Still, he had to give him something.
    He shrugged. “She’s my neighbor and it seems our bedrooms share a wall.”
    D’Andre laughed so hard he had to wipe away tears from his eyes. “Oh you are never getting between those pretty thighs.”
    Well, he hadn’t been trying until she’d opened her door last night spitting mad, with her hair going every which way. If a woman could make a ratty T-shirt look good and a green bikini look phenomenal, then he was damn well trying to get to know her better. Not that he was going to admit that. “Who said I’m trying?”
    “You breathing? Your eyes still work?” D’Andre snorted and grabbed a beer from the cooler between their lounge chairs. “Good. It’s just your melon that’s broken.”
    Sawyer flipped him off.
    “Don’t worry.” His friend popped a can of beer open and took a drink. “You didn’t stand a chance anyway. Forget fucking her, you couldn’t even get a date.”
    What the hell? His game was strong—just not with her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Sawyer sat back and closed his eyes as uncertainty went Zip Tie-tight on his balls. Sex had always been his relief valve when things got too stressful, but lately it just wasn’t the same. It was good, he made sure of that, but… Hell, none of it made sense. 
    “Alright then,” D’Andre said. “If you’re so sure then loser covers the tab for a dinner at Mel’s and a night in South Beach.”
    He flinched, imagining his bank account after that kind of night. “I’m on a cop’s salary now not the league minimum.”
    D’Andre arched an eyebrow and smirked. The bastard wasn’t about to give up on busting his chops. Of course, if the situation had been swapped he would have been busting his best friend’s balls just as hard. It’s what they’d always done since they’d both unpacked their suitcases in the dorms years ago.
    “A date?” he asked, the idea taking hold of him.
    His heart sped up but doubt shoved its way through his ego and set up shop in his head. Penny wasn’t like the women he usually dated—she wasn’t a club girl or a badge bunny—plus, she lived next door. Love ‘em and leave ‘em wasn’t