"Yo." I knock twice on the front desk to get the receptionist's attention. Cora looks up at me, pushing her glasses up with a finger. "There's a guy named Wolfe coming in at three. Who's he booked under?"

"One second." She holds up a finger and starts going through the computer, scrolling the mouse.

I tap my fingers on the desk as I eye the waiting area. There's two people here and one of the dudes looks like he's going to be sick. My brows rise and I consider giving him a bucket. It's always slow on Monday's, especially during the afternoon. Our busiest days are Friday through Sunday and the rest of the week does decently. I have to say I'm looking forward to seeing the big guy and spicing up this boring day.

I spent a lot of time thinking over the weekend about what I initially thought of him. Now that I don't hate him anymore and am starting to realize he's one of the decent ones, I'm really fucking curious about him. I still don't like that I can't read him for shit but it looks like I'm going to be changing that. I just want to see what this guy is all about and see if I can get anything out of him since apparently I've gotten under his skin. I think Asher telling me that gave me a big head about it because now I've made it my personal mission to break down the beast and see what he's hiding behind those walls. I just want to quench my curiosity. Once I'm satisfied, I swear I'll drop it. I have no reason to keep someone like him in my life anyways.

"He's Lavender's client." Cora tells me. "Do you know him?"

"He's a friend of a friend." I say vaguely.

"Is his name actually Wolfe?" Her nose scrunches and I have to laugh because I wondered the same thing the first time I met him.

"Yup. And trust me, it suits him. You'll see."

"Finally. Something interesting comes out of today." She grins.

I wink back and head toward the hallway where all the offices are lined up. "Thanks for the help, girl."

My thigh-high heeled boots clack noisily against their marble floor as I make my way to Lavender's room. I check my watch and note that Wolfe should be here any minute.

I knock on her door before I hear a, "Come in."

"Hey, Lav." I shut the door behind me. She looks up from her station where she's assembling her tattoo gun.

"What's up, Lenny?" Her gaze follows me as I perch myself on to the recliner. "You look hot today."

"Do I?" I look down at my attire.

Maybe I did kick things up a notch. I prefer being comfy at work and usually go with cargo pants, simple shirts, and combat boots. Today, I'm wearing form-fitting jeans that have large rips in the thighs and disappear under my black suede boots that end just above my knee. My cropped graphic t-shirt shows off enough of my midriff without looking too indecent and is held up by two thin straps. I also straightened my raven black hair instead of leaving it up in a messy bun.

Fuck. Did I really dress to impress today? What the hell is wrong with me?

"Thanks." I quickly change the subject before I have the chance to wonder why the fuck I'm trying so hard. "So listen, it turns out I know you're next client."

"Wolfe?" She raises a brow. "If that's even his real name."

"It is." I smile. "He's a big dude so you won't question his name when you see him. I just wanted to let you know he doesn't talk."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a mute. He doesn't speak so you're going to have to get creative when you communicate with him about his piece."

"No shit?" Her hands pause from assembling and she gapes at me. "Crap. How will I understand him?"

"His facial gestures aren't too hard to read. You'll figure it out but I just wanted to give you the heads up."

"Well, thanks." She looks flustered.

"Hey, don't worry about it. He's a cool dude and it's just going to be this one time."

"Actually, his piece is really complicated. I'm going to guess six or seven appointments spanned one hour each."

"Can I see?" I hold my hand out curiously.

She grabs a sheet of paper from her desk and hands it to me. I study the design carefully. It's a grim reaper of sorts. Heavily cloaked with his hands spanned to the sides so they almost look like wings. There's no face and that makes the entire image even scarier. He has a sword sheathed across his body and on the blade is the word PROTECT. It's dark as hell and for some reason I didn't expect this from Wolfe. Sure he's an intimidating dude but not dark.

"Tough one." I agree. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. He can always write on a piece of paper if anything so just keep one around."

"Thanks for letting me know." She takes the paper back for me and checks the clock. "He should be here by now."

"Come on." I hop off the recliner. "I'll show you which one he is but I'm sure you'd be able to figure it by yourself."

"Is he hot?"

"Insanely. I kind of want him to pick me up and throw me across the room with those muscles."

She snorts as she follows me outside her office. "You're so messed up."

We're laughing in agreement as we step into the main room when Lavender's mouth clamps shut, eyes widening as she stares ahead. I look away from her and follow her gaze and and my steps slow down as I spot the man of the hour hovering by the reception desk.

He's here. In all his beastly fucking glory.

Jesus, the entire place looks about five times smaller with him standing in the middle of it. He's huge and I don't blame my friends for gaping at him. He doesn't really pay any attention to them, though. Instead he's looking right at me.

I'll admit I feel a flash of nerves but it's only because I'm supposed to apologize to him and I've never been good with those. I wonder how he's going to take it.

Raising one brow and feeling my lip curl confidently, I cross my arms and saunter right up to him. I can understand why most people would get intimidated and not even think to approach him but I'm not scared. I'm too curious to run away.

His intense gaze tracks my every movement, eyes briefly dropping down to my body before moving back up. I guess my "pick me" outfit did its job, as insulting as it is to myself that I'm actually going out of my way to impress a guy I barely know.

"I still think you're stalking me." I tell him when I reach him, stopping when we're toe-to-toe. Another step closer and I could be on top of him. "Lucky for you, you're fun to look at so I don't mind. Much."

He raises a brow right back and I chuckle under my breath, enjoying trying to read his expressions. I like that I have to work for it with him. Guys are just way too easy. But not this one.

"You're with her." I point my thumb over my shoulder to Lavender who's yet to approach us. "Be nice. Not everyone is as sweet as I am."

I'm pretty sure that's amusement that just flashed through his eyes at the obviously false claim I just made. I toss him a wink before spinning on my heel and heading back to Lavender. Two steps in, a hand gently wraps around my elbow and stops me from going any further. I try not to bristle at the unexpected touch because I fucking hate being touched and look over my shoulder at Wolfe.

"What?" I keep my face neutral, trying like hell not to focus on how big and warm his hand is. Didn't I establish that his hands are my weakness? This is not good.

He looks toward Lavender, then to me, and shakes his head just barely. My brows close in on each other and I try to figure out what he's saying.

"You don't want Lavender to do your piece?" I guess.

By some miracle I get it right and he nods. I turn to face him completely and shake my arm out of his grasp. I also established that I have no business getting used to his touches so that has to stop now.

"Who do you want?" I cross my arms again.

Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he subtly tips his chin in my direction. I tilt my head, highly amused when I realize what he's saying. He wants me. It's beyond me why since I've been nothing but a bitch to him. Fuck, he's confusing.

"It's not up to me." I tell him, putting up a bit of a fight. I don't know why but I get a kick out of challenging him. Pushing him. Maybe I am messed up. "That's Lavender's call."

His mouth pinches with irritation and my smile widens. Guess he's not as detached as Asher and his friends think because it sure is easy to get under his skin.

"Let me see what I can do." I say formally, as if he's just some other client.

This time he lets me walk away but I can feel his stare pinned on me. I make sure to add an extra sway to my hips just for that.

"He wants me to do his piece." I explain to Lavender who's yet to pull it together. I grab her face and turn it to face me. She's going to make him feel like a freak at this rate and that bothers me more than it should. "You cool with that?"

"Yeah." She doesn't even hesitate. I knew she wouldn't. I just want to make the big guy sweat a little because I like having the upper hand and he affects me way too easily. I need to get some of my control back. "Jesus. He's like a building."

"Right?" I smirk.

"Promise you'll take a picture of him shirtless. I want to see what he's hiding under those clothes."

I roll my eyes even though her words just made me realize that Wolfe will have to take his shirt off since he wants the piece done on his back. This is working out rather nicely, actually.

I throw him another look over my shoulder and wave a hand, gesturing for him to follow me. For such a big guy, he moves with grace and his boots barely make a sound against the floor. He nods respectfully at Lavender who giggles back and I snort, leading him away before she starts asking for his autograph or some shit.

I kick my office door open and keep it ajar with my back, waving him in. This time both his brows are raised as he eyes the boot mark on my door.

"It adds character." I defend.

I could've sworn his lips twitched.

"Get settled." I point to the recliner before closing the door behind me and making my way to my station.

I text Lavender to fax Wolfe's design over to me and start assembling my tattoo gun, watching him.

He's observing my art that I've framed around the walls of my office, some of my most favourite and kick ass pieces up there. With his back to me I can't read his face and tell if he likes them or not but I tell myself it doesn't matter what he thinks. Or at least it shouldn't. I know I'm damn good at what I do and my opinion is the only one I give a shit about.

Once my tattoo gun is ready to go and I grab the picture of his design from my fax machine, I make my way over to him. Even sitting on the recliner he's still a little taller than me.

"So," I hold the paper up for him. "This is it?"

He nods in confirmation.

"You want to stick to the black and white scheme or do you want me to make it colourful?"

He points a finger at the black and white design already on the paper.

"Alright." I set the paper down on the table beside me and step back from the recliner to give him some space. "This is where I ask you to take off your shirt though I have to admit, I wish it were under more interesting circumstances."

He actually snorts a little as he stands up and I can't help but press my lips together to contain my amusement. He takes my shit well, I'll give that. But then all my humour fades when his hands go to the back of his neck to grab the collar of his shirt before pulling it off. It's so fucking hot when guys take their shirt off like that and Wolfe is no exception, especially when he reveals what's underneath.

My mouth dries up when he lets his shirt fall to the ground and I'm left staring at his body. So. Much. Fucking. Muscle. I've seen more shirtless men than I can count with this profession and yet I'm completely floored at Wolfe's body. Every inch of him is hard muscle covered in tattoos. Only his abs are left untouched and I'm silently thankful because how else would I admire them? Realizing the tattoos from his arms expand to his chest is even hotter and I blink rapidly at his humongous shoulders and biceps, probably the size of my head. He's gorgeous. His naturally tan skin looks taut and smooth and fuck me do I want to touch. Touch and lick and so many other things that make me shuffle in place. I clear my throat loudly.

"Turn around." Because Jesus, I need a breather.

Either he's oblivious to my reactions or he chooses not to acknowledge them because he remains passive and follows my instruction. I almost groan because his back is just as hot and I know that once I add ink, it'll be even hotter.

Pull it together, I scold myself.

"I'm going to use my fingers to measure the size of the tattoo. Just let me know if I should make it bigger or smaller than what I'm thinking."

He nods once. I place one index finger just below his neck where the head of the grim reaper will be and my other index finger about mid-back where the cloak will end. I'm thinking the cloaked sleeves will span over the back of his shoulders to make it look like his hands are wrapping around Wolfe's biceps.

Wolfe shakes his head no and I ask, "Lower?"

Another nod so I move my index finger down to where the deepest curve in his back ends. He shakes his head again and I bring my finger down all the way, just a couple of inches above his jeans. He finally nods.

"Damn." I whistle, dropping my hands. "You really want this piece to make a statement, huh?"

He turns around so suddenly that my mouth parts in surprise. My breath stalls in my lungs when my chest brushes against his and I crane my head back to look at him. His eyes are so intense that I can't look away. Whatever this piece is, it represents the darkest moment in Wolfe's life. Somehow, I just know that.

I lick my suddenly dry lips and Wolfe's stare zeroes in on them. Am I insane for wanting him to kiss me? I don't know this man and even though I sleep around when it suits me, I make sure I know the guy well enough. Truthfully I know nothing about Wolfe and yet I want him to ravish me like the absolute beast he is. God, I want to see what he's like when he actually loses control. He's always so poised and calm. I want to rattle him good.

But he's my client now and there are rules against that. I can't afford to be fired and I can't risk complicating our relationship. Truthfully, I want to do this piece because I know it's important to him  and I don't want anyone else getting an insight to such a deep part of his life. I don't want anyone else to know him in a way that I don't because...well, I found him first damn it. And admittedly, he's fun to be around even though he doesn't speak. I don't find it necessary for him to talk though. He's expressive and interesting enough without words. He's also not an idiot like most guys.

"How about we get started?" I smile tightly and Wolfe blinks like he's snapping out of it. He nods slightly and backs up until he's sitting on the recliner again. I draw in a much needed breath and try to ignore how my skin feels like it's on fire. "Lay on your stomach and I'll do the outline for today. I'm going to guess it's going to take seven appointments altogether and each will be an hour. I'll give you a week between appointments to allow healing so you're looking at almost two months of commitment here. Can you manage?"

He nods seriously and just the way he looks at me lets me know he takes me seriously. I find it ridiculously endearing the way he makes others feels seen when he's usually overlooked. I almost groan. This is not supposed to be happening. He's supposed to be an asshole jerk that makes it easy to not get attached, not this surprisingly kind and interesting and intense person. Fuck my life.

I shake myself out of it when he lays down on his stomach and I no longer have to look at his face. Maybe this will make it easier to focus on my art and not him. I don't need this kind of distraction in my life right now.

Just in case my thoughts get carried away again, I decide to drown them out with blaring music. I hook up the Bluetooth in my phone to the speakers I have set up and play Legendary by Skillet. This song always pumps me up with confidence and I could use some of that right now because I think I'm actually nervous about doing this piece for Wolfe.

Me. Nervous. About tattooing.

This is a fuck show if I've ever seen one.

"Okay, big guy." I say over the music, standing over him and placing the tattoo gun on to his skin. "This is going to sting a little."

He doesn't even flinch when I turn the machine on and start dragging the needle, the black ink bleeding into his skin. I bop my head along to the music as I got lost in the art, the shape taking place in front of me becoming my only focus. The thumping bass of the song keeps me grounded, pumping me up the way I hoped. Fuck yeah, now I'm in my element. This is the shit I love.

I have to move around to get the desired outline of the piece just because it's so big. I stand at the front of the recliner and lean over Wolfe as I work on the head of the reaper. My boot taps along to the beat as I sing along to the music. I sway my hips, head bopping, pretty much throwing my own concert at this point. Wolfe stares up at me through his lashes. Most of his face is pressed into the recliner but I can still see his eyes and the amusement in them as he watches me.

"Good song, right?" I grin.

He nods his head and that ghost of a smile remains. One day, I'm going to get the man to smile for real and it's going to be fucking awesome.

"You can't deny how badass you feel right now." I raise my brows expectantly and he shrugs. My grin widens. "See?"

Satisfied, I strut over to his other side and continue to sketch his tattoo before I get too carried away but I'm pleasantly surprised when he reaches his arm out increase the volume of the music. I laugh quietly under my breath.

Every few minutes I take a picture of the progress on my phone and show it to Wolfe to make sure it's coming along the way he sees it. Nothing is more important than making sure your art reflects what your client, not what the artist, envisions. It's always about them. It's surprisingly easy to communicate with Wolfe despite the no speaking barrier. Honestly, I don't even notice it for the most part and I don't see it as a big deal either. If the dude can live this many years without saying a word and still be here, why can't we do the same?

I lower the music a little when I realize there's still something I need to tell him.

"Hey, listen." I start and his head shift towards me slightly, letting me know I have his attention. "My bad for acting snobby when we first met. I made some pretty shitty assumptions about the kind of person you were and acted on them which was fucked up."

He turns his head completely to look at me and at first I think he'll gloat but instead he looks confused. He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head a little, asking me why.

"Why what?" I tilt my head. "Why did I make those assumptions?"

A nod of confirmation.

I turn the gun off and blow out a breath, mulling it over. "I don't know. I guess I don't have the best history with people and even more so with men. I just...I always think the worst of them unless they convince me otherwise. I'm just conditioned that way. When you stepped in to help me that day, I thought you had selfish motives. Like maybe you expected me to sleep with you just because you did that or you wanted a pat on the back for being a hero. And then I started seeing you everywhere and it felt like you were rubbing the fact in my face almost, that you helped me when I was helpless. But that wasn't the case. It was my own fucked up thoughts that I was projecting on to you, I guess."

He looks thoughtful, like he's really digesting my words and trying to understand me. It's almost innocent how mindful he is of others and I can feel myself softening. Who are you Wolfe Emerson, and why doesn't the world see you?

"Do you accept my apology?" I finally ask, holding my breath. He nods immediately and I exhale, smiling a little. "Cool. I'm almost done."

He takes the silent cue and turns around again. The moment passes and I'm grateful because it was getting too intense for my liking.

Time passes by faster than I realize and the hour is up before I know it. I've also completed the outline of the tattoo and it looks badass as hell. I can feel myself buzzing with excitement to really get into it, adding all the details and shading to bring it to life. I take a picture of the final product and Wolfe sits up, stretching.

"What do you think?" I hold the phone up for him.

He brows go up right away and I can see that he's impressed. I knew he would be because I'm that fucking good and I smirk in return. He nods to let me know he's good with it and I pocket my phone again.

"So the easiest way to follow a schedule when a piece requires several appointments is to come in on one designated day of the week. It's just easier to keep track of and remain organized. Does every Monday work for you?"

He nods again and I go over to my calendar, putting Wolfe down for every Monday of the next two months.

I go back to him and gauze him up. I'm highly aware of what it feels like to rub my fingers on him, feeling the heat of his body transfer to my own skin. I can't read his face since he's turned away from me but his body does tense a little when he feels my touch. In a good or bad way though? Why do I even care? I bandage the tattoo and give him the healing cream.

"You know the drill?" I ask expectantly.

He pointedly looks down at his body covered in ink and back to me, almost as if saying really? I have to crack a grin at how he can convey sarcasm without saying a word.

"Just making sure." I put my hands up in surrender.

He gathers his shirt and puts it back on, smoothing it in place. I almost pout because I already miss his muscles. Talk about man candy.

He pays me in cash for the full session and I thank him, going back to my desk to tuck the money away safely and making sure everything is in order. Mostly to distract myself because I think I'm kind of upset our session is over. I was having a decent time and he's good company.

"Okay." I shrug casually, tucking my hands into my pocket. Wolfe watches me curiously so I keep my face as passive as he keeps his. "I'll see you next week."

For a moment we share another loaded stare. I wish I knew what he was thinking. Instead, he finally lifts his hand in a goodbye and leaves my office like he was never even here.

As soon as he's gone, my head falls back and I groan at the ceiling. "He's trouble, Parks. Stay the fuck away."

I shake my head at myself and walk over the table to retrieve my phone and tattoo gun. It's only then that I notice a slip of folded paper that I swear wasn't there before. Confused as hell, I pick it up and unfold it. My heart skips a beat at the two words that stare back at me in bold, masculine writing.

Thank you.

I look back to my office door, my mouth curling from one corner. He may be trouble but...so am I.

__________________________

A/N

SCREAMING!!! I think I'm finally getting the hang of these two and oh my goodness, the feels!

Also, I highly recommend reading the chapters with the music that I list in them. It really helps to bring these scenes to life! It also makes me feel like I know Lenny better as a person by listening to her favourite music.

Please VOTE, comment and share if you liked this chapter!

Happy Reading :)