“Oh shit…” Drake said, his British accent emerging.

“That’s bad,” Taz agreed.

“We’ve got to do something,” Syon confirmed.

Clearly tattooed on the singer’s body were two sprigs of pink cherry blossoms. They conflicted so badly with Ramsey’s dark, bad-boy persona, his bandmates stared at him for long moments as shock held them silent. It was a serious crash-and-burn moment.

Kate pulled him closer to a street lamp, hoping the light might show it to be a temporary tattoo.

No such luck.

“You’re screwed.” Kate detected the faint red marks from the needle. There was a faint gloss from Vaseline, too.

“We’re screwed,” Syon added. “We’ve got a show in forty-eight hours.”

The members of Toxsin stuck together. Ramsey and Syon were tighter than most married couples. Kate had learned that firsthand when she’d met Syon and spent a season on tour with the band as their costumer.

“It’s Toxsin!” someone yelled from across the street. There was a blare of a horn as the fangirls stepped right into traffic in their quest to connect with their music idols.

Kate reached out and refashioned Ramsey’s pants to hide the tattoo.

“I dreamed about this differently,” Ramsey drawled. “You took my pants off in my dreams. I remember that detail perfectly.”

“Right now, they need to stay on.” She fastened up his vest while she was at it, but the garment wasn’t going to hide the top half of the second blossom.

“We’ve got to get this fixed. Now,” Syon said. “That is going to show onstage, big time.”

They might have been sporting long hair and leather, but all of them were dead serious as they recognized the potential for disaster the little feminine tattoo posed.

As in…epic disaster.

The tabloids would have a field day if even one fuzzy picture surfaced. Toxsin had just hit the Bay Area and had two days until show night. Ramsey was known for his guitar solos, and his lack of a shirt made sure his abs were on display.

“I don’t think cover-up is going to do the job on that one,” Drake offered.

“One little rub from the waistband of your pants and it would be all over cyberspace,” Kate added.

“We need tattoo rescue. Like, now,” Taz added as he dug his phone out of his pocket and started searching the Internet. “The paparazzi gets a shot of that and we’re never going to live it down.”

* * *

“What do you think you’re going to prove?”

Jewel tapped her fingers against the countertop and bit her lower lip. Her mom was just getting started.

“Don’t you appreciate the education your father and I paid for?”

“I do, Mom.” Jewel managed to keep her tone even and sweet. Really, it didn’t take much effort. At this point, she was well acquainted with her mother’s disdain for her current employment choice.

But her skin wasn’t as thick as she’d like to think. The tone of her mother’s voice cut deep, slicing into the dream she was trying to live with the sharp blade of reality.

Don’t hate the messenger…

“Well, you wouldn’t know it by the way you’re playing around in that tattoo shop like some sort of orphan who didn’t have the benefit of a university education,” her mom said.

“Are you open?”

Jewel looked up and fumbled her phone. She was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open, but wasn’t completely sure because her brain decided to fry, leaving her staring at the decadent man prowling across the shop toward her.

“Tell your mom you’ll call back. I need you right now.”

Okay, fried wasn’t nearly hot enough a word to describe the sensation going through her. The guy in front of her was a god. Six and a quarter feet of raw muscle, with black eyes that looked like they’d been carved out of a moonless midnight sky. His shoulder-length hair was spiky and screamed nonconformity. But it was the flash of arrogance in his eyes that drove home just how raw he was.

This guy took what he wanted and never apologized for any of his desires.

It should have raised her hackles. Instead, it made her wet. And she wasn’t sure she liked it.

Scratch that. She was sure she didn’t like it, because it felt like she was losing control.

“Mom, I’ve…got someone in the shop.”

Her voice had become raspy. She blinked, trying to scrape together some poise. The god grinned at her, sending a bolt of heat straight into her clit.

Shit.

The guy was sex-on-a-stick. And his leather pants made it clear he had quite a stick.

“How can I help you?” she asked.

“So, you’re open?” She realized the god had companions. One was an Asian man with short, spiky hair, black as a raven’s wing, with a flash of blue fire that made it look amazing; the other one’s blond hair fell to his shoulders.

“Oh…sorry. I was talking to my mom…” Her tongue felt like it had gone lame. “When you walked in, that is. We’re always open.”

And her night was suddenly looking up. “I’m Jewel. What are you gents looking for?”

“Do you do tattoo rescue?” The blond one was talking now.

“You can only go darker. So if it’s already black, your options are limited. But sure, I do rescues.”

“Wait,” the Asian guy insisted. “Do you have a portfolio?”

“Of course.” Jewel pulled a large book from underneath the counter.

She was used to seeing leather and brawn in the shop, but there was a level of detail on all three of these guys that spoke of money. If those pants weren’t all custom-made, she’d pack it in and start sending out marketing résumés like her parents advised. She knew the difference between wannabes and genuine badasses.

“I mean, nothing personal, but we can’t have this done by an amateur,” the Asian continued as he started flipping through the pages of her work.

“Speak for yourself, Taz…” The dark-eyed one was leaning farther across the counter, making the air between them sizzle. “I’d like to get very personal with you.”

His voice was like black velvet. It would be super easy to just let it rub all over her. She got the feeling she’d end up purring. There was a flash of something in his eyes, sending a tingle of apprehension through her.

He knew exactly what sort of effect he was having on her.

She bit her lower lip. His dark gaze dropped to the little nervous motion, his lips curving rakishly in response as he leaned on the counter, moving closer to her. He was too damned smooth, pushing on her comfort zone with an ease that was annoying but that she admired at the same time. He was arrogant but with a solid core of confidence that sent a shiver down her spine; part of her really wanted to put him to the test.

Which wouldn’t help her pay the rent. She dug deep, trying to get a grip on her professionalism.

“You might want to see these too.” She lifted another album from beneath the counter and handed it over. “These are my awards, and the back half is rescues, before and after shots.”

The blond took it in a flash, leaving her once again staring at the dark-eyed god.

“Maybe you should let me in on the…problem?”

His grin grew into a huge smile that showed off gleaming white teeth. “Thought you’d never ask…”

He straightened up, giving her another glimpse of just how tall he was before he popped the button on his pants. She was actually holding her breath as he worked the buttons on his fly.

One…

Two…

Oh hell, the guy was chiseled.

But the delicate pink blossoms hit her like a bucket of ice water. “Oh, that is just wrong.”

Jewel came around the counter, her attention fixed on his lower belly. She sank to her knee to get eye level with the cheery tattoo. It was a sacrilege, like putting pink ribbons on the ears of a panther.

“Hmmm…” The dark god made a soft sound under his breath and reached for her head. For a moment, she was caught in that second, waiting for his fingers to land on her.