Badd Business Read online

  Izzy stared at me, and managed to make the expression drip with sarcasm. “When was the last time you fucked a guy reverse cowgirl?”

  I glanced around the store in a panic. “Shush! You can’t talk like that in public!”

  Izzy cackled. “We’re the only ones in here, Juneau!” She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Penis! Cock! Pussy!”

  “Isadora! Stop!” I said, trying to clap my hand over her mouth.

  She just cackled all the harder and fought my hands away. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She writhed in place, loudly faking orgasm sounds. “Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh! Yeah, baby, fuck me just like that! Yes! Fuck yes!”

  I gave up, hanging my head in defeat and refusing to look Izzy in the eyes. “You are so embarrassing.”

  Izzy just laughed at me. “You’re so easily embarrassed by the stupidest shit! There’s no one here. The door is closed, so it’s not like anyone outside could hear. And even if they did, so what? Like they’ll never have heard dirty words before? Lighten up, Juneau.”

  “I’m leaving,” I said, starting to walk away.

  She grabbed my wrist and hauled me back to the counter. “No, you’re not. You have to pay for the clothes, for one thing, and you never answered my question, for another.”

  I handed her my debit card. “I’m not answering that.”

  She swiped my card and handed it back. “You know you haven’t found your inner sex goddess, that’s why.”

  “I enjoy sex, Izzy. And probably more frequently than you’re assuming.”

  “Then answer the question.” Izzy handed me the signature slip and a pen. “When was the last time you fucked a guy in the reverse cowgirl position?”

  I frowned at her. “Why? Is that, like, the measuring stick for whether you’ve found your inner sex goddess?”

  “It’s a pretty decent indicator, I’d say, yeah.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Well? I’m waiting.”

  I blushed. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Consider me a sex therapist. I’m interested in a purely professional capacity.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not telling you.”

  She stared hard at me. “Wait, wait, wait. You’ve never fucked in that position, have you?”

  “I told you I’m not answering.”

  “You haven’t!” She grabbed my wrists in both hands. “You have to try it. You have to. It’s vital.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Can we talk about something else, now?”

  “Yes—fellatio.”

  I groaned. “No! How about something besides sex?”

  She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “Hmmmmm.” She brightened. “Nope! Tell me—do you use your tongue when you go down?”

  “Izzy!” I felt myself blushing. “Stop!”

  “Do you? Because I’m telling you, if you don’t use tongue, you’re doing it wrong. They love the tongue action.” She held her closed fist in front of her mouth and stuck her tongue out, rolling it in broad circles. “Like that. Dudes love that shit.”

  I covered my face with both hands. “You are so shameless.”

  “Duh, but you know that,” she said, “Throw me a bone, here, Juneau. Tell me something.”

  “Will you leave me alone about this if I do?”

  “Tell me one dirty secret about you, and yes, I will agree to talk about something else.”

  I sighed, thinking. I leaned on the counter, lowering my voice nearly to a whisper. “The last guy I slept with, Chris—he liked to put my feet on his shoulders. I felt really awkward about it the first couple times he wanted me to do it, but it did feel really good once I got over that.”

  Izzy stared at me expectantly. “And?”

  I shrugged. “And nothing. That’s it.”

  “That’s…that’s not even that kinky of a position.”

  “It felt like it for me. Having my butt all up in the air? It was weird.”

  Izzy shook her head. “If that’s your idea of a dirty little secret, then you definitely haven’t found your inner sex goddess.”

  “I didn’t say it was my dirty little secret.”

  She slapped the counter. “Well then come on! Out with it! Give me something that’s a dirty little secret about you that I’d never guess.”

  “Why do you want to know so badly?”

  “Because you’re one of my two best friends and I feel like there’s just a lot about you I don’t know. You keep so much to yourself.”

  “I’m just private,” I said.

  Izzy drew an X over her heart. “I won’t tell anyone. Not even Kitty, if you don’t want me to.”

  “Does it have to be a secret about sex?” I asked. “Because honestly, I don’t have any of those—you are right in that I’m probably not very adventurous.”

  “No, it can be anything. Any secret.”

  Could I tell her? Show her?

  I sucked in a breath and held it. “Okay, I do have a secret. And you can’t tell anyone—not even Kitty, because now that I’m telling you, I’ll have to tell her and I want to do it in my own time.”

  Izzy frowned. “Wow—it must be pretty big, then.”

  I glanced around, and realized there was no way I could do this in the middle of the store. “Come on—let’s go in the back.”

  She eyed me skeptically. “What could be so secret that you can’t just tell me out here?”

  “It’s more of a show you than tell you kind of secret.”

  Izzy let out a breath, and then led me into the back room, where there were dozens of racks of clothes all jammed in side by side, surrounding a tiny little desk with an aging desktop computer and a pile of papers and receipts and invoices. There was barely room to stand back here, but it was private and windowless.

  Izzy stood with her back to the doorway, blocking me in. “Okay. What’s the big secret, Juneau?”

  I hesitated—this was terrifying. “I…you might be mad that I’m just now showing you this.”

  “Now I’m scared,” Izzy said, laughing nervously. “You’re not gonna whip out a dick, are you?”

  “Oh my god, no!” I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and then grasped the bottom of my sweater. “Ready?”

  Izzy just blinked at me. “This is weird.”

  “Don’t freak, okay?”

  “Well, you’re freaking me out right now, so no promises.”

  I let out another breath, and then peeled off my sweater in one quick movement. I stood in front of Izzy in just my skirt and a bra, with all my tattoos exposed…well, those from the waist up at least—I had a few more a little lower down on my hips, but I wasn’t ready to strip down to underwear just yet.

  Izzy’s breath caught. She took a tentative step toward me, stretching out a hand as if to touch the colorful designs on my skin. “Oh…my…god.” Her eyes met mine. “Tattoos?”

  I turned around to show her my back, which is where Ink’s masterpieces live. “This is my secret.”

  “Holy mother of god!” Izzy whispered. “This is…” Her fingers touched my back, making me shiver as she traced the various images. “Wow…just…wow.”

  I turned back around, biting my lip. “My cousin did most of them.” I traced the bands of the traditional tattoo on my chest and belly. “I did these myself, though.”

  “Your cousin?”

  I nodded. “His name is Ink.”

  She frowned in disbelief. “You have a cousin named…Ink…who’s a tattoo artist?”

  “Yep.” I bit my lip. “And I did a bunch of tattoos on him.”

  Izzy shook her head as if dizzy. “Wait…what?”

  “Surprise!” I lifted my hands in a cutesy little gesture. “I have a bunch of tattoos!”

  She traced the V running from shoulder down to cleavage and back up. “You did this yourself?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  She breathed out an amazed sigh. “That’s incredible. Did it hurt?”

  I barked a laugh. “Oh yeah. I used the stick-and-poke metho
d my ancestors used, so yeah, it hurt like a bitch, to be honest.”

  Izzy shook her head as if to shake away the confusion. “So this is why you always change in the hot, steamy bathroom after a shower?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “And why you never wear anything that exposes your torso?”

  “Yeah.”

  Izzy spun the office chair around and plopped down in it, putting her chin in her hand and staring up at me thoughtfully. “So…I guess my one real question is…why was it a secret? It’s just tattoos. Did you think we’d judge you for them or something?”

  I shook my head. “No, I just…I don’t know. I’m really weird about them.”

  Izzy frowned, head tipped to one side. “You’re gonna have to explain this one for me, honey.”

  I turned my sweater back inside right and shrugged into it. “Okay, so…you know that lady who sells handmade native jewelry and stuff over on the wharf?”

  Izzy nodded, spinning the chair around to look for something on the desk—she whirled back around with a carving of an eagle wheeling on a wing, intricately detailed and painted, with slivers of white quartz for the feathers, and a little fish crafted from tin clutched in the talons. “I got this from her a couple years ago.”

  I laughed, toying with the carving. “That’s my mom’s.” I lifted the figurine. “I actually helped her make this. I did all the painting on it.”

  “No way! That’s your mom?” She took the figurine from me. “You painted this?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Mom did the carving and inlaid the quartz, and I did the detail painting.”

  Izzy blew out a breath. “Okay, so you’re an artist, and your mom is an artist…How does this tie into you hiding all those gorgeous tattoos?”

  “Because my mom and my grandmother both have made their living as artists—and it’s a subsistence living at best. My dad guides hunts and hikes in the deep bush, my sisters are all stay-at-home mothers, my brothers-in-law work in factories and fishing boats…” I sighed. “I’m the only person in my entire family—and I mean my whole lineage going back as many generations as you can count—who’s ever been to college. I’m the only one to work a white-collar job. I’m the only one to leave this area for anything more than occasional trips.”

  Izzy just nodded. “Okay. So?”

  “So…Mom, Dad, my sisters, my grandparents—everyone contributed money to send me to college in Anchorage, to get my law degree. They expect me to go back and study for the bar and become an actual lawyer.”

  Izzy frowned. “And? Isn’t that the plan? I’ve heard you talking about that, as a matter of fact.”

  I tugged down the neck of my sweater and indicated a band of tattoo. “This is my dream. Not the law. I don’t want to become a lawyer. I don’t even like working in a law office. I love helping people, and I like working for Daniel, but I’ve always wanted to be an artist—a tattoo artist. Ink and I did our first tattoos on each when we were eleven.” I tugged up the hem of my sweater and pushed down the waist of my skirt, baring my right hip bone, exposing a tiny orca in faded black ink. It’s splotchy, ugly, and messy—you can barely tell what it is.

  “Ink’s looks about the same. We did them with pen ink and a needle. We’re lucky we didn’t get infections and die, quite honestly. We’ve talked about covering them, but we never do because it’s a reminder of where we started and how far we’ve come.” I restore my clothing. “I hide my tattoos because Mom and Dad would be super upset if they knew I have them, and if they knew Ink had done them. They’d know I don’t want to do what I’ve been doing—that I dream of quitting and going to work for Ink.”

  “And? Why don’t you?”

  I sighed. “I can’t let my family down. I can’t disappoint them. They all have these huge expectations for me, and my tattoos would be…the first step in letting them all down.”

  “So you’re ashamed of them?”

  “My feelings about my tattoos are…complicated. I love them, and I’m proud of them, but I don’t know how to even start the conversation about them. It was hard enough to show you—showing my parents would be…impossible.”

  “You know you’re going to have to eventually, right?” Izzy sighed, standing up. “You’re living a false life. It’ll all come crashing down at some point—I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but I’m gonna give it to you anyway—make the break now, in your own timing and on your own terms, rather than waiting for circumstances to decide for you.”

  I toyed with the end of my braid. “I’m scared that now that I’ve shown you, I’ve started something unstoppable.” I laughed. “Actually, it all started with Remington showing up at the tattoo parlor Ink owns.”

  Izzy’s eyes widened. “Wait. Remington Badd knew about your tattoos before I did?”

  “By accident. I would never have shown him on purpose.”

  Izzy’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Now, I’m mad. We’re fighting.”

  “It was an accident! Ink had finished one of the bears on my back, and I had my shirt on backward so it could dry, and Remington came in. Ink works by appointment only, so there wasn’t supposed to be any walk-ins. Much less Remington.”

  “We’re still fighting. I’m your best friend—you should have trusted me before now.” She pointed a finger at me. “You know Kitty is going to be pissed.” Izzy shrugged. “Well, more hurt than pissed, but still.”

  “I’ve always been pretty conservative, but I started covering them up when I first got a tattoo, and it’s been habit ever since.” I met her gaze, hoping to see forgiveness there. “It wasn’t about not trusting you, it was more…not knowing where to start the conversation. It became a habit to just hide them from everyone.”

  “I can’t say I really get it, but I love you and definitely get the family expectations thing.” Izzy hugged me. “But now that you’re starting to come out of the tattoo closet, you can start dressing to show off that sexy ink! You can wear that outfit you bought!”

  I laughed. “Yeah…no. That’s as much about modesty as it is the tattoos. I’ve never really been into showing a lot of skin.”

  “I bet you look sexy as hell in it though.”

  I blushed, ducking my head. “I kind of do, yeah.”

  “Wear it for Remington, then!” Izzy said. “Show him what you look like showing off those foxy knockers of yours.”

  I snickered. “Foxy knockers? Really?”

  “He’ll spooge in his Levi’s if he sees them all nakey. Guaranteed.”

  I bit my lower lip. “Um, well…”

  Izzy’s eyes widened. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “He…he kind of already saw them,” I admitted.

  “Saw how much of them?”

  I hesitated. “Um. All of them?”

  “Like…bare?”

  I nodded. “Only for a split second though. He…he sort of manipulated me into it. He snatched something I didn’t want him to have, and then my bra, and told me to choose—and the only way to not play his game was to just put my shirt on. Which meant he got a quick look at my boobs, sans bra. But then he covered them with my bra anyway, which was kind of sweet, even though he created the situation in the first place.”

  Izzy’s eyes narrowed again. “I’m not exactly following, but that’s fine. The upshot of it is, he saw your tits?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he walked out on his own power? Without limping?”

  “Why would he limp?”

  “Because the hard-on he had to have been rocking must’ve been out of control. Makes it hard to walk, from what I understand.”

  “He did bolt the first chance he got.”

  “You’re telling me you didn’t look?”

  I bit my lip again. “Um. I may have.”

  She grabbed my arms and shook them. “And?”

  I rolled my eyes. “And it looked like an erection behind the zipper of his jeans.” I frowned at her. “And didn’t you mess around with Ramsey in the hospital or some
thing?”

  “Or something,” she muttered.

  “So, they’re triplets. I’m guessing they’re probably very similarly endowed.”

  “Not the point. The point is, I want details about what happened to you.”

  “I saw enough.”

  “Enough to know you want to jump on that monster cock and get some O’s out of him?” She rocked her hips suggestively. “Yeah, baby—you know you want to.”

  “Izzy!” I scolded. “You are so wrong!”

  “In all the right ways, Juneau.” She wiggled her eyebrows at me, which was more comical than suggestive. “So? You gonna ride that D?”

  I sighed. “I’m worried it’ll become something I’m not ready for if I do. Either not enough, or too much, and I’m not in a place where I want either one right now.”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “You’re overthinking it.”

  I laughed. “Well, yeah. That’s kind of my thing, I think.”

  “When are you going to see him again?”

  I sighed. “Well, tonight, probably.”

  Izzy lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you sound both reluctant and unsure?”

  I debated on how much to tell her, and decided to go for the whole truth. “Okay, so don’t laugh at me too hard, but…you know how I take dictation for Daniel? Well, I was sort of…um…daydreaming. About Remington. And I kind of started…doodling. And ended up with a pretty…errr…graphic sketch. Of Remington…and me…in a—um—compromising position. And that sketch is what he has.”

  Izzy sputtered in helpless laughter, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Holy shit. No way!”

  I covered my face with both hands. “I had it folded up and stuffed in my bra, and he found it at the tattoo parlor. And now he has it—he kept it as, quote, ‘insurance’ that he’ll see me again. He said if he doesn’t see me after three days, he’s going to open it.”

  “Does he know what it is?”

  “No, but he’s got a pretty good idea it’s about him in some way because I was so crazy about him not seeing it.”

  “And the three days are up…when?”

  “Today. So I have to get it back from him, because I’d die of embarrassment if he sees it.”

  “It’s explicit, I imagine?”

  I bit my lip and nodded. “Um…yeah.”