Indelibly Intimate Read Online Free PDF Page A

crook a finger and lead a sailor to his death. Control was something she hadn’t felt in a damn long time but for some reason she felt it with Hammer. Maybe it was time to see how close she could dance to the edge. For fun.
    “Well, Quinn.” Hammer drew out the “I” in her name. “If that’s what you’d like…” He trailed off as she parted her thighs even farther.
    “Absolutely,” she said and patted her marked-up leg. “Give me my new tattoo.”
    As if there’d been no double meaning to her words, she modestly adjusted her skirt to be sure not a glimpse of anything showed. It was all she could do to keep from laughing at Hammer’s frustrated expression. As if she’d have jumped in bed with a perfect stranger. Or was he a stranger with a perfect face, a perfect ass and perfectly beautiful ink? He was all of that.
    “What, isn’t it ‘Hammer time’ yet?” She was beginning to understand why he’d been intentionally pissing her off. If that was anywhere near as fun as yanking his chain, she’d be doing it all damn night.
    He kept his jaw set but the glint in his eyes was undeniable. “You get one free pass. Any more than that and I’ll put the kanji symbol for waitress on your leg.”
    She gasped. “You wouldn’t!”
    He grinned and her stupid heart fluttered again. “Try me.”
    “Fine,” she sighed. “No more nineties rap jokes. But that’s the only promise I’m giving.”
    “Good. I’d hate to put an ugly tattoo on top of an ugly tattoo tonight,” Hammer said as he busied himself on the tray beside Quinn’s chair. She watched raptly as he measured ink into tiny little cups. He moved quickly, with a surety that spoke of lots of practice.
    A knock grabbed her attention. The receptionist peeked through the crack she’d made in the door. “Bones isn’t coming in and neither is Rodney. Do you need me to stay?”
    Hammer shook his head as he swabbed Quinn’s thigh with a soapy solution. “Not on a Tuesday night. I’m knocking off after I finish this one.”
    “Cool.” She disappeared without another word.
    “Must have a hot date tonight,” Quinn mused, looking after the young receptionist.
    Hammer ripped several soft paper towels from the roll beside him. “Nah. Lesli’s married.”
    Quinn’s brows arched so high she was sure they’d hit her hairline. “You’re shitting me. That girl can’t be more than seventeen years old.”
    Hammer shrugged and inked his buzzing tattoo gun. “Good genes, that’s all. You ready?”
    She swallowed hard as he laid his hand atop her thigh. It would be uncomfortable, that was for damn sure. But she didn’t know if the discomfort would come from what he was doing or what he wasn’t doing. Namely, running his hands all over her.
    “Yeah. I’m ready.”
    The angry bee sound resumed and Hammer carefully started inking the first line. A smile stretched Quinn’s lips.
    “Damn. You’re good. I can barely feel that.”
    Hammer glimpsed up at her. “Do me a favor. Don’t let anybody but me tattoo you from now on.”
    A laugh escaped her. “If you finish as good as you start, you don’t have to worry about a damn thing. I’ll be a one-man girl for the rest of my days.”
    Without comment, Hammer immediately directed his attention back to her leg and the swooping phoenix. Why had she said that? Sure, he was frickin’ gorgeous. The next couple hours would be torture for her, wondering what it’d be like to have those big hands on more than her thigh, but realistically there was no way she could get involved.
    Besides, she was pretty committed to the no-more-tattoo-artists idea. She had a pile of shit called “Quinn’s life” to clean up and adding Hammer to that mix wouldn’t do either of them any favors.
    As if even the thought of his name startled him, he spoke. “Are you hurting?”
    The leather seat beneath her free leg creaked as she shifted in surprise. “No, why?”
    “I’m pretty good at reading people and you had a crease on