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coffee in N’awlins, honey. Best not to pass it up.”
    “Sure. I take it black. Thanks,” he said, never letting his gaze stray from Rosie’s. Once Sassy had headed to the back of the shop and her sacred coffee pot he strode in, towering over her. “You were introduced to me as Roisin,” he whispered harshly.
    “I  am  Roison,” she said, her heart thundering in her chest. “Roisin is Irish for ‘rose’. Hence Rosie, my professional name, and the one I use everywhere but at the club. Anyway, a lot of people use scene names.”
    He ran a hand over his hair, looked away for a moment, then back to her. He had an odd grin on his face.
    “I’ll be damned. And I likely will be. But  you .  Here . To tattoo me. This promises to be interesting, don’t you think, pretty girl?”
    She felt her eyebrows shoot up. She said in a low voice, “Don’t do that shit to me here, Finn. Here we’re on  my  territory. Hard limit.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he said, humor in his tone. “Come on, Roison. Loosen up. We’re going to be here for a while.” He leaned in closer, and she could smell the ocean scent that made her knees weak. “And to be honest I don’t mind that one bit. Are you going to tell me you do?”
    She bit her lip. She did. And she didn’t. Being near this man was a pleasure. But it was going to be pure torture, too.
    “Of course I don’t mind. But let’s try to concentrate on the work. We need to leave the other night out of it, okay?”
    He grinned. “I’ll do my best, sweetheart.”
    “Okay,” she agreed warily. “Sit down and tell me about the design you have in mind.”
    Sassy handed Finn his coffee and gave Rosie a lingering glance before moving to her desk at the front of the shop. Rosie had to force herself to focus on the art as they talked about the full chest piece he wanted done.
    “I always love the Japanese idea of the koi becoming the dragon,” she said, nodding over the notes she was making on her iPad. “I love tattoos showing that progression in life.”
    “Or in death,” he muttered.
    “What?”
    He shrugged. “It’s a memorial piece. For my friend Kenji.”
    “Ah.” She’d assumed Finn wasn’t the sentimental type. He hadn’t appeared to be—not until now. And now, after this show of sentimentality, the chink in his armor, she  liked  him in addition to finding him incredibly hot, one of the best players she’d ever been with, and a master in the sack, too. The sex last night had been…
    Focus!
    “Do you want to tell me more about your friend?” she asked. “I don’t mean to pry, but sometimes getting a sense of the person you’re memorializing can help to guide the work. His name is Japanese?”
    “Yeah, Japanese. Kenji was…a good guy. Always happy. On the outside, anyway. I don’t think anyone really  knew  him, though.” He paused, looking away for several long moments. “Maybe I didn’t even know him. I like to think all that shit clarified when he moved on, eh?”
    “Yes. A metamorphosis in death. The koi transforms into the stronger, more powerful dragon, attaining its true self.”
    “Yeah, that’s it. And put better than I could.” He smiled. “I like that you get it.”
    “So, are we doing it all in black and gray?”
    “That was my thought. I don’t have any color on me.”
    Rosie nodded. She’d noticed. Oh, God, she’d noticed. The tribal work he wore was incredible. Incredible ink on perfectly taut, hulking muscle.
    “Take your shirt off,” she said.
    He chuckled, one eyebrow raised. “Can’t get enough of me, eh?”
    Too true, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.
    “I need to trace your chest so I know what kind of space I’m working with, you oaf.”
    “Ah, she’s a sassy wench. Luckily, I like that in a girl.”
    She sighed audibly. “Just take your damn shirt off and save the flirting for later.”
    He winked at her. “There’s plenty left for later, Roisin.”
    “I’m sure there is. Off with it.”
    He