Dirty Sexy Inked (Dirty Sexy Series Book 2)

Mason sat alone at the far end of the bar at Kincaid’s and nursed a bottle of Sam Adams while debating if he should move on to something stronger so he’d stop thinking about Katrina on her date with Blake, and what they might be doing. If the guy was kissing her, touching her, making a move on her . . . Fuck. The troubling thought made him want to plant his fist into something hard to release some of the pent-up frustration building inside him.

“Well, this is a first,” Mason heard his brother, Levi, drawl just before he sat down in the vacant chair next to his.

“What’s a first?” Mason asked irritably, in no mood for his younger brother’s goody-two-shoes commentary.

“You sitting at a bar all by yourself and looking quite pathetic,” Levi said, sounding far too amused at the situation.

“Well, you could always fuck off,” Mason suggested, then finished his beer.

“I could,” Levi said, his tone more amused than offended. “But seeing you like this is much more fun.”

Mason glared at his brother. He’d come to Kincaid’s because he’d stupidly thought he could wallow in his misery alone. Mason had known for certain that Clay wouldn’t be here. Now that Clay was domesticated by marriage, he spent more time at the new home he’d purchased for himself and Samantha, instead of at the bar. Levi didn’t drink alcohol and usually didn’t show up at the bar unless there was a specific reason, and Mason resented Levi butting into what should have been a private pity party. No smartasses invited or allowed. Obviously, Levi had missed that particular memo.

“What are you doing here?” Mason asked testily.

His belligerent attitude didn’t so much as faze Levi, who, as a beat cop, was used to dealing with far more intimidating criminals. “Well, I was watching House of Cards on Netflix at home, and I got a concerned text from Tara telling me that something was seriously wrong with you and I needed to get over here ASAP.”

“Sorry to tear you away from an exciting night in front of the TV,” Mason said sarcastically. “But there’s nothing wrong and you made a trip down here for nothing.”

Levi leaned an arm on the counter. “Well, considering you aren’t taking advantage of all the single women here tonight, and you aren’t off screwing one of them already, I’d have to agree with Tara. Are you sick? Do you have a fever? Or has your dick finally become discriminate? You know, that big word we talked about on the plane ride to Vegas that means you’ve actually gotten particular about where that dick goes, and with whom?”

Levi didn’t have to say the name Katrina, because his brother wasn’t stupid, or a fool. Jesus, he hated when Levi did that—how his brother silently sat back and didn’t miss a goddamn thing going on around him. Even as a kid, Levi had been quiet and introverted, but incredibly attuned to everything. As an adult, it was fucking unnerving to have all that intensity focused on him.

Resisting the urge to flip Levi the middle finger, Mason gave him a tight smile instead. “My dick is fine; thank you very much for your concern.”

He hoped that Levi would take the hint and go back home. Instead, he caught Tara’s attention and motioned her over to the end of the bar.

“I told you it was bad,” Tara said once she arrived, her concerned gaze bouncing from Mason to Levi.

“Jesus Christ,” Mason snapped indignantly. “I’m fucking fine.”

“He’s so not fine,” Levi said with a sympathetic shake of his head. “He’ll take another Sam’s, and I’ll take the usual.”

“You got it,” Tara said, and moved away to get their drinks.

She returned a few minutes later, setting a fresh bottle of beer in front of Mason and a tall glass that contained a nonalcoholic orange spritzer on Levi’s napkin.

Mason glanced at his brother’s pansy-ass drink. “I wish that someone would spike your fucking orange juice. I’d love to see you get drunk. Just once.”

Levi smirked and took a long drink of his mixture of orange juice and soda water. “Not gonna happen,” he said as he set his glass back down on the counter. “I have no desire to ever drink alcohol and do stupid shit.”

Getting drunk and doing stupid shit was pretty much the sum of Mason’s teenage years and some of his adult ones, too. “Why not?” he asked curiously.

Levi shrugged. “It’s a control thing,” he said vaguely.

Mason was pretty sure Levi’s reasons all tied into their childhood, and how each one of them dealt with their horrible situation in very different ways. Levi did like to be in control. He was calm, focused, and composed. Always had been. Growing up, Mason used to hate how nothing seemed to affect Levi, but he’d learned over the years that his brother’s quiet personality was Levi’s way of coping with all the emotional upheaval in their lives.

While Levi internalized their painful situation, Mason had gone to the opposite extreme and let his rage drive him toward every act of rebellion that came his way. It wasn’t until Mason was older that he’d learned to control those angry outbursts.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Levi asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Mason frowned at his brother. “It?”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Katrina,” he said more specifically.

Mason’s first instinct was to play stupid and say, “What about Katrina?” but he was so damn tired of denying his feelings for his best friend. Everything about their current situation was eating him alive inside, and one of the very few people he trusted was his brother. Levi wasn’t one to judge, and right now, that’s exactly what Mason needed—someone to listen and hopefully offer some helpful advice.

“Katrina and I slept together in Vegas,” Mason said before he lost the nerve.

“Yeah, I figured,” Levi said as he ran his thumb and forefinger along the condensation gathering on his glass.

“How did you ‘figure’?” Mason asked, curious to know what had given him and Katrina away.

Levi laughed. “Are you serious? The moment you carried Katrina out of Coyote Ugly like a goddamn caveman, both Clay and I knew that things were going to come to a head between you two. Both of you have been skirting around your attraction for years, but lately, the sexual tension has been pretty intense. Between Katrina dancing up on the bar and you getting all territorial about other men touching her, it was bound to get heated. And considering how awkward and weird things were with the two of you the next day at the wedding, it was a no-brainer that you guys had sex.”

Mason frowned. “You were there when I told Tara that nothing happened.”

“And she believed you, but I’m your brother and I know when you’re lying. I can see it in your eyes, especially when it comes to Katrina. And being a cop makes it even easier to spot when you’re not being totally honest.”

“Nice,” Mason muttered. He’d have to remember not to look his brother in the eyes the next time he was telling a fib.

“So, you slept together,” Levi said, bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I totally fucked up the friendship. No pun intended,” he muttered.

A slight smile touched the corner of Levi’s mouth. “How so?”

“Because now things are . . . different between us.” He dragged his fingers through his hair in aggravation. “Awkward, weird, and tense, even though we agreed at the time that it wouldn’t be. And she’s out on a date with another guy tonight, and it’s driving me nuts thinking about it.”

Levi’s brows rose in surprise. “Are you saying that you’re actually jealous of who Katrina is seeing and dating?”

His stomach churned with acid. “Yeah, and I fucking hate it.” He’d never had an issue with who she’d dated in the past, but that had been before they’d blurred the lines of their friendship. Now that he knew what it felt like to be inside of her, to have her body wrapped so intimately around his, for the first time ever with a woman, it changed everything.

Levi absently swirled his orange juice in his glass as he thought for a moment. Then he glanced at Mason with a crooked smile “You know, I don’t understand why the two of you don’t just start dating like a normal couple.”

Mason frowned. “Because I don’t date. And because . . .because she’s my best friend and that’s just . . . weird.”

Levi laughed. “Dude, you had sex with her. And you’re worried about dating Katrina being weird?”

“I know, I know,” he said, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded. But he couldn’t stop those doubts from continually rearing their ugly head, and he let them out before he lost the nerve.

“I’ve never dated anyone before. Ever,” he said as he peeled at the label on his beer so he didn’t have to look directly at Levi while confessing his greatest fears. “And I’m so afraid I’ll fuck up everything worse with Katrina than it already is. What if I screw up and then we don’t even have the friendship to fall back on and I lose her forever?” God, that would destroy him. “What if she realizes that I’m just not that great of a guy and she could do so much better? That I’m a total loser who doesn’t have the ability to offer her everything she needs from that kind of relationship?”

“If you were a loser, she wouldn’t have stuck with you for the past twelve years,” Levi said in a wry tone.

“As a friend,” Mason corrected his brother. “Not as someone who wants something . . . more.”

Understanding glimmered in Levi’s gaze. “Look, you don’t know how things will play out unless you try to build something more with Katrina.”

Mason swallowed hard before admitting the truth. “I’m afraid.”

“You can’t let the past keep defining your future actions,” Levi stated bluntly. “At some point, you need to change your pattern of behavior in order for anything else around you to change.”

Mason narrowed his gaze at his brother. “And what actions are those?”

“You being a manwhore,” Levi said, obviously trying to inject some humor into the conversation. In the next few seconds, his expression turned much more serious. “You think I don’t understand why you don’t let any one woman close enough for you to fall in love?”

There Levi went again, being all observant and perceptive, though Mason was curious to know what conclusions his brother had drawn. “Why don’t you enlighten me with your wisdom?” he drawled.

Levi ignored his smartass tone. “We grew up with a mother who, for all intents and purposes, abandoned the kids she’d never wanted anyway, and all three of us dealt with that situation in very different ways. Clay became the parent. The responsible one who made sure we stayed together. Even though it meant he had to work his ass off in order to give us a decent life without the constant abuse of Wyatt,” he said of their mother’s asshole boyfriend who’d taken great enjoyment in terrorizing them, until one day Clay had fought back.

Thank God that part of their past was done, gone, and finished. And even though Wyatt had recently come back into their lives to threaten Clay once more, it hadn’t ended well for Wyatt, who was now in jail for a murder he’d committed over a year ago. But at least that confrontation had allowed Clay to finally open himself up to the possibility of a future with Samantha. What would it take for Mason to believe in himself that way?

Levi continued on. “I was so young, but even I developed my own coping mechanisms. I would always . . .” He frowned and let the words go unsaid, as if he didn’t want to shine that particular mirror on himself and reflect on his own painful memories. And Mason wasn’t about to push him for more.

“You were a goddamn hellion,” Levi said instead, turning things back to Mason. “After everything we went through, with our mother going to jail and Wyatt giving up on us thanks to Clay, I remember you doing everything you could to push Clay to the breaking point. It was like you were continually testing him, and he never gave up on you. Ever.”

“I know,” Mason said, and he was grateful, because he hadn’t made it easy on his older brother at all.

“So, this thing you do with women . . . You don’t form attachments because you’re hung up on what happened in the past,” Levi said. “You walk away without even trying to see if something other than sex might develop, and you deliberately choose women who aren’t going to want anything more than something physical so there’s no threat of you getting emotionally involved. But Katrina . . . she’s different from all those casual encounters. She always has been.”

Mason couldn’t argue with Levi’s theory because it was the truth.

“That’s why you’ve always kept Katrina in the best friend zone,” Levi went on while Mason digested everything he had to say. Things he knew but rarely verbalized or liked to think about. “Because that way, you can keep Katrina close and not worry about doing something stupid to make her leave you. But that’s what best friends do. They stick around during the tough times, they support you and always have your back. And they forgive you when you’re an asshole.”

That last part made Mason chuckle. “And we all know that’s happened a time or two.”

“Or a dozen,” Levi added with a smirk. “My best advice? Don’t be that asshole and repeat your hit-it-and-quit-it pattern with Katrina and give her a reason to put any more distance between the two of you. This is your chance to get things right with her, and the fact that you came back from Vegas and haven’t reverted to your manwhore ways tells me that maybe she’s the one. Hell, maybe she’s always been the one and you’re just now opening yourself up to the possibility.”

As scary as that sounded, Mason nodded in agreement. That’s exactly what it felt like—like he was finally allowing himself to be emotionally vulnerable for the first time in his life, but he had no idea where Katrina stood. For all he knew, she’d already moved on to Blake, and her time with Mason in Vegas was nothing more than a distant memory.

He swore beneath his breath, refusing to even consider that possibility. Nor was he going to let some other guy get between him and Katrina. Not without a fight.

Mason glanced at Levi, curious about a few things his brother had left unsaid. “So, since you’ve psychoanalyzed me, how come you’ve never had a serious relationship before?”

“Who says I haven’t?” Levi shot back.

His brother’s quick reply caught Mason by surprise. “Well, considering I’ve never seen you date a woman for any length of time, either, or bring one around for Clay and me to meet, I just thought you were being discriminate. See, I know what that big word means,” Mason joked. “Or maybe you’re saving yourself for marriage.”

Levi laughed out loud. “Not even close. I’m just more discreet than you.”

Mason watched his brother finish the rest of his orange juice spritzer and push the glass across the bar. Levi had gone through all of high school without a girlfriend—that Mason knew of—and right after graduating at the age of seventeen, he’d joined the Army with Clay’s consent and served in the military for four years. He’d been back for over two years, and was now a cop with Chicago P.D., and there was no woman in his life to speak of.

“Were you seeing someone in the military?” Mason asked, wondering if something had happened during that time.

“Tonight was all about you, not me,” Levi said, smoothly skirting the issue as he stood up and clapped Mason on the back. “My intervention here is done, and now I can get back to House of Cards with a clear conscience, knowing I saved my brother from doing something stupid that he might regret later. Oh, and no charge for the therapy session.”

“Here’s your payment,” Mason said, and gave Levi the middle finger.

Levi just shook his head and chuckled as he headed out of the bar, leaving Mason alone once again. But at least this time he wasn’t wallowing. No, now he was strategizing and thinking about a game plan to win over the one woman—the only woman—he wanted in his life.

*     *     *

When Mason arrived at the shop the following morning at ten a.m., he was feeling upbeat and optimistic about Katrina and the day ahead, despite the fact that she’d gone to dinner with another man the night before. He carried a to-go drink tray with two large coffees he’d stopped and picked up on the way to work—a straight black brew for him and Katrina’s preferred steamed caramel latte—along with her favorite apple-and-cream-cheese Danish.

As he stepped into Inked, he was greeted by the sight of a dozen red roses on the front counter in a crystal vase and Katrina standing there in a cute black mini-dress and lace-up thigh-high boots he immediately fantasized about having wrapped around his waist while he fucked her against the counter. Yeah, his dick supported that idea one hundred percent.

She had a big smile on her face . . . but it wasn’t for him. No, it was a result of the small card she was reading that had come with the flowers that Blake had no doubt sent.

So much for surprising her with a coffee and pastry. His meager gifts were no match for the vibrant, gorgeous arrangement that had probably cost a small fortune. Clearly, Blake was staking his claim, and Mason exhaled a deep, calming breath so he didn’t overreact and say something stupid that would just cause Katrina to withdraw from him even more. His goal was the opposite, to reestablish the friendship that meant so much to both of them, and build from there.

But Jesus, he hadn’t expected to have to compete with wealth and sophistication and a guy who knew how to woo and romance a woman. Those were skills Mason had never had a need for, but he realized that he definitely needed to step up his game if he was going to compete with someone of Blake Cavanaugh’s caliber.

He came up beside Katrina, and she quickly stuffed the card she was reading back into the envelope before he could see what it said. She buried it into her purse that was still on the counter, then turned around to face him with a flush on her cheeks and her expression flustered.

From reading Blake’s note, he wondered? Shit. He hated that another man could have that effect on her. Jealousy tightened across his chest, and he refused to allow his mind to conjure up images of Blake and Katrina together, doing those things that only Mason wanted the privilege of doing with and to her.

“Hey,” she said with a forced smile, her demeanor reserved, as if she wasn’t sure what to expect from him this morning.

“Hey, yourself,” he replied with a genuine smile while doing his best not to act like a possessive dick, which would only put her guard up even more. “I got you a caramel latte and a Danish,” he said, handing her both.

“Thank you,” she said, this time sounding truly pleased by the thoughtful gesture.

He tossed the to-go holder in the trash and took a sip of his strong coffee. “How was your date with Blake last night?” See, he could totally be civilized about the situation.

“It was . . . good,” she said, much too vaguely, and wouldn’t quite meet his gaze.

What the hell did good mean? Mason didn’t push. Wouldn’t push. But fuck, he wanted to. Badly. So, instead, he said, “I’m glad you had a good time,” then headed over to his station to set up for his first appointment of the day.

When he casually glanced back to the front counter, he caught Katrina watching him with a frown as she took a bite of her pastry. Obviously, she hadn’t expected him to act so rationally, and even Mason had to admit he was impressed with himself because it had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to carry her off to his private office and put his stamp of ownership all over her the best way he knew how.

Fuck expensive roses. Mason was all about making sure he staked his claim in a more memorable way. Whether Katrina knew it or not, she was his. And he was going to do everything in his power to prove it.