Watercolor Kisses: Devious Jokers MC, #1

By Needa Warrant

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS DRUGS, DRUG USAGE DURING THE 1980s, SEXUAL CONTENT, & VIOLENCE. PLEASE DON'T READ IF THE TOPICS LISTED OFFEND YOU.

It's 1983, a young mother-dancer is looking for a fresh start in life. Celebrating her new life she visits L.G.'s Magical Tattoo Studio. What she didn't count on was meeting Lucian, an older, alpha male tattoo artist. She has a history with bikers and is adamant she doesn't want another one.

However, Lucian is a devil, he likes what he sees and decides he wants her. He is taken in by Aries and convinces her to go for a ride with him. She has no idea he is Lucifer, president of the Devious Jokers MC.
Lucifer puts Aries through her paces before becoming determined that she has the potential to be his ol' lady. Can he convince her that she's the one for him?

Can he protect her from her past and build them into a family?

This the beginning of their story together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Needa Warrant
• Release date: Sep 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386029205

Needa Warrant

Needa Warrant is the pen name for a biker chick who started writing as a way to help animals, mainly horses. She's not your typical author, her writing style is unique. She writes more or less as bikers speak and live. Needa does have an editor but if you're a grammar freak or a mean person, please don't read her books. Books are not cheap to make & she sells all her books for a fair price. Needa is a huge advocate for animals and any cause she believes in. Needa often says she writes an MC soap opera as she brings old characters back. BACKREST BYTCHES PUBLISHING LLC is Needa's very own publishing company! Needa has exciting new projects coming in the near future.  

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 Watercolor Kisses by Needa Warrant

2017 © BACKREST BYTCHES PUBLISHING LLC

All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Watercolor Kisses is intended for 18+ older, and for mature audiences only.

Cover Design by: Design by TabbyCat

Editing by Witchy Editing

Formatting by Masque of the Red Pen

2017 © BACKREST BYTCHES PUBLISHING LLC

Table of Contents

Disclaimer

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Note from Needa

Playlist for Watercolor Kisses

Chapter One

––––––––

Arabella parked her dented and rusted little Honda in the parking lot of the tattoo parlor. She checked her makeup and pushed her long blonde hair back from her face. This tattoo was the beginning step toward making a statement for herself. She was free, finally single and going to enjoy her life again. Things had been rough, but she managed yet again to pull herself up and get on with her life. L.G.’s Magical Tattoo Studio was supposed to be one of the best places around, and she had read about the owner, Lucian Giovanni, in a few tattoo magazines. She looked around at the cracked pavement with the weeds and wildflowers growing anyhow and thought of them trying to reach the sunlight against the odds, much as she was. She knew this wasn’t the best part of town, but this was where the shop was. She grabbed her hobo bag and locked the doors.As she rounded the corner to get to the shop, she saw about ten motorcycles parked in front. Shit, she thought, I forgot he was a biker. A group of mean looking bikers stood around the front of the shop and one laid on the bench in between two potted plants. Devious Jokers MC Patches were on their backs. One percenter patches too. Just her damn luck to run into bikers again.

She hadn’t expected this when she had called to make her appointment. The woman she spoke to was so friendly and said that it was very private and she had no reason to be afraid. Those ten bikers made her very nervous, she didn’t know them and prayed they’d never seen her before either. She knew all about bikers, having ditched one recently, he had decided she should give up her money to support his lazy ass plus a bunch of other shit she refused to do.  The bastard never paid child support for their daughter, and she was sure he would be looking for her when he got out of jail. Hopefully, he’d never think to look for her in this area. She was living with her Aunt Helene, and he didn’t know shit about her family.  Her eyes met one of the bikers who smiled at her.

You here for an appointment or a walk-in? Cause right now I wouldn’t walk inside. Lots of yelling going on in there.

Arabella tilted her head as she heard the arguing. I have an appointment with Lucian; I made it weeks ago, should I come back?

He pushed his boot up and kicked one of the bikers stretched out on the bench. Get the hell up, Sleaze. Let the chick sit down. The sign says clients only, asshole. The biker looked Arabella up and down before grudgingly getting up. He was huge, and tattoos ran up and down his arms in a riot of colors. The first biker opened the door and bellowed, Lucian, your appointment is here. He motioned to the seat, and she sat down trying not to hear the fight going on inside. She leaned her head back and shut her eyes. It had been a long night on that hot stage, but she had made good tips. They would pay for the tattoo she wanted, a lotus flower near the bottom of her back, a tramp stamp some might say, but she wanted it there. Whoever the fuck had made that stupid name up was a complete asshole because it was a perfect spot. She could show it off if she wanted to or hide it. At the sound of motorcycles roaring to life, she opened her eyes. The biker named Sleaze stood in front of her.

Do us a favor and tell Luc we’ll be around later. Good luck with your tattoo. He turned and got on his bike and roared away. She could hear the arguing clearly now. She shut her eyes and sat there waiting, figuring someone would let her know when it was safe to go inside. She couldn’t help but hear the voices.

Lucian, you never fucking change. Every time you fuck up, I’m supposed to look the other way. No more, this is it; I quit, you don’t pay me enough to work for you. I’ve wasted enough time playing games with you. Your appointment is sitting on the bench; you’ll love her. From what I can see she’s just your type. I bet you’ll be trying to fuck her too, you bastard. I hope someday you get what you deserve and someone you love walks away from you.

The door opened, and a woman came out and sat on the bench beside Arabella. Tears were flowing down her face, and she looked devastated. She had a tank top and shorts on, with nothing to wipe them away with, it seemed.

Arabella reached for her hobo patchwork bag and pulled free one of the many bandanas she had tied around the strap. Wordlessly, she handed one of her least favorites to the woman.

The woman took it and wiped at her face. She looked at Arabella with similar green eyes, close to the color of Arabella’s eyes. If you’re here for a tattoo, a word of advice, don’t fall for that bastard in there. He is the devil himself, and he’ll ruin you and use you, as he did me. She stood suddenly, and her red hair tumbled down her back. They could have been cousins or sisters; they looked quite a bit alike. Do you want this back? She motioned to the bandana.

No, you can have it, I’ve got plenty for my tears.  Arabella stood up. Is there a chance I’ll be getting my tattoo today?

Sure honey, go inside. Nothing fazes Lucian. Certainly, not me but remember what I told you, though. She walked away, stopped, and turned around. She stood there looking at Arabella intently. What’s your name? 

For some odd reason, Arabella didn’t want to her to know her real name.  I’m Aries; my parents were into the zodiac. 

The woman looked at her again and shook her head as she walked to her car. She turned around once, and it looked like she was going to come back, but she decided against it and went across the street to her car.

Arabella entered the shop. She heard the tinkle of the bells on the door and walked around looking at the tattoo pictures the shop had on the walls. It was very impressive, and she wondered if he was here by himself. If so, she wondered when he’d come out of wherever he was.

Lucian stood in the doorway looking at the girl before him. She had to be of legal age, but she sure didn’t look it. The just so ripped jeans were hot on her, and she stood there so innocently.  The black boots, scuffed in the right way, he liked her style from her head to her toes. He watched as she pushed her hair away from her face and stared at his drawings of Asian flowers. She moved suddenly and faced him. His heart raced faster as he looked at her. Damn, she’d make a good replacement for Lisa. He was glad she’d finally left; he’d lost interest in her a long time ago. They studied each other, her green eyes narrowing like a cat’s. It was unusual for him; women didn’t stare into his black eyes for long. He stood there, not saying a word watching her. He wouldn’t break his stare.

Arabella looked at the man in the doorway. He had angry looking red scratch marks running down his well-muscled and inked bare chest. His hair was black and long, soft waves of curls floating around his face, that he absently brushed away. He was hot, for an older man and a biker. Right now, she didn’t like men at all. All she wanted was her tattoo and to be back with her daughter at her aunt’s house. It sucked living there, but soon she’d have enough money for a small apartment.

Lucian decided she wasn’t going to break her stare. I need a few minutes to clean up, Lisa left me some parting gifts. Could you do me a favor and grab one of those tee shirts on that shelf. He pointed to the wall where the shop merchandise was stocked. Extra-large should do it. He disappeared again as Arabella grabbed the shirt and sat on the leather couch. Damn, she thought, Lisa must have been very pissed off at him. She hoped the scratch marks wouldn’t leave scars across the beautiful tattoos that adorned his chest.

Taking a chance, she walked toward the back and bumped into him coming out of what she assumed was the bathroom.

Here, she thrust the tee shirt at him as she backed away from him.

Lucian smiled inwardly. Are you my appointment?

Arabella silently cursed the man. I’m supposed to be. Unless you’d rather not tattoo me today.

I’m fine, Lisa was no great loss, babe. So, what are you looking to get and where? He studied her pale skin. She would be a delight to cover with his ink. Color would show up beautifully on her.

Biting her lip for a second, she answered, I want a lotus, the flower that grows in murky waters and no matter how nasty the pond is, they flower anyway.

He studied her and walked over to some albums he had. Sit, and we can look for something you’d like. He pulled her down next to him and moved closer to her, spreading the album across both their laps.

Arabella didn’t want to be rude and move away, so she sat next to this hot man who smelled a bit like citrus fruit, a bit of leather and smoke. It was all too appealing, and she chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked at the drawings.

I don’t see it, not in these drawings. I don’t want any black outline. I want a soft watercolor look. With drops of ink as though you painted it on me, not tattooed me. It has to be different, like me.

Not drawings babe, it’s flash art. I can draw you up something. Come on back to my station and let’s see what I can magically create to make you smile. Lucian knew she was uneasy; he understood body language well. He stood up and didn’t wait to see if she’d follow, he knew she would.  He wanted to watch her get up, but he didn’t want to spook her quite yet.

Arabella wondered if she should follow him, he was a bit too hot for what she had expected a tattoo artist to look like in her mind. All he’d see was her back, and she’d worn a halter top for that reason. Slowly she followed him and took the stool he motioned her to sit on.  He looked at her a few times and went back to drawing. It was very still in the shop, all you could hear were his pens scratching on the paper. She sat up straight as she watched him draw. He wasn’t asking for her opinion, so she didn’t bother to give it. If she didn’t like it, she’d find another artist to do her tattoo. Finally, after a bit of swearing, he located some colored markers, and within minutes he was handing her the paper.

I know you said no black, but you need a fine line, so it defines the flower. I promise it will look beautiful, I’ll shade colors in exactly like that, or if you want it differently, I’ll change it. And for having to wait and hear all the bullshit with Lisa, this one is free, on the house. I treat my clients well, and that was not very professional, hearing us fight. Where do you want the tattoo? He planned to lure her in as she sat on the stool looking intently at his work.

I want it on my lower back, a bit higher then what is called a tramp stamp. I don’t really give a fuck about what people say anyway. Her voice was soft, and it soothed his head.

I hate that fucking term; it’s a perfect place for a tat and people are assholes. I didn’t get your name, babe, you know I’m Lucian. His eyes were glancing over her beautiful body, admiring it subtly as if she was a piece of art. Suddenly he winked at her, and she giggled.

How rude of me, I’m Arabella. Her voice sounded like music to his ears.

Lucian frowned, the lines in his forehead turned down, What kind of a name is that? Kinda old fashioned isn’t it, not that my name is great.

Arabella fully smiled for the first time, and his heart beat a bit faster. She had pouty lips, and dimples. He was a sucker for dimples.

I dance under Aries; I don’t use Bella ever, anymore. Never Arabella either. I hate that name. She pushed the hair that was in her eyes away.

He got up and walked to the counter in the middle of the store, and she followed him, ready to prove who she was.

Lucian studied her and asked her for her license. As Arabella went into her bag and handed it to him, a whiff of coconut suntan lotion hit his nose.

You have suntan lotion on? His eyebrow went up.

No, my daughter got into it, spilled it on my bag. I like the smell, so I don’t mind. Does it bother you?

No, but if you had it on, I’d have offered you my shower. His voice was low