After
Ansel
“Where did you go this weekend, Ansel?”
“Nowhere special,” I snap on my gloves.
It takes a lot to keep my face neutral, but my brain takes me back to the hotel room. The first time was amazing, the second time was something I’m never going to forget. She was insatiable and dragged me into the shower where she gave me a blow job to remember. The woman was addicting, and I’ve dreamed about it every night since.
When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. We never even asked each other’s names.
“You sicken me you know.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I twist my stool so I can see Aaron as he stands by the mirror, checking himself out. He’s a vain asshole, but he’s also one of my best friends. Doesn’t stop me giving him shit at every opportunity.
“You know exactly what it means,” he rolls his eyes.
I’ve known him long enough to know he’s figured it out. He knows what I got up to this weekend.
“It’s your I got my dick sucked face.”
“Fuck off,” I turn away from Aaron and give my client an apologetic look. My co-worker is laughing his ass off. “Sorry about that,” I tell the client.
“He’s not wrong,” he quirks a grin at me. “That is the face of a very happy man which usually means his football team won or he got laid.”
“Well, I don’t like football…” I look around, first at Aaron, then Juno, our apprentice.
Everyone laughs.
“All I can say is, I’m glad someone is getting some,” Kristina, our piercer says. “I can’t remember the last time I saw a dick that I wasn’t sticking a needle through.”
My client winces and cups his junk. Laughing, I pat his shoulder and ask him to get comfortable. We’re settling in for a serious session this afternoon. I’m finishing the portrait of his daughter that he’s having tattooed on the front of his thigh.
I’ve worked at this parlor, Urban Ink, for eight years now. Apart from the owner, I’m the most senior artist here. The boss often leaves it in my hands.
Working here is a dream come true for me. I left London fifteen years ago, following a girl here and getting a job at the small tattoo shop where she was working. That relationship didn’t last. She left me high and dry in an apartment with two roommates who she crapped all over too.
Fortunately, we all became good friends, and they helped me out while I got myself situated. I never thought I’d end up loving this country, let alone working hard enough to get a visa and stay here.
It’s been amazing. Highs and lows along the way but ending up here, at Urban Ink was one of the best decisions I ever made.
We work for three hours on the tattoo before my client taps out. I could have gone on longer but I’m respectful and fully aware of someone’s threshold when getting a tattoo. I knew before he did, he was about to call it.
Once he’s wrapped up and his payment made for the appointment, I stand at the counter to make him a new one in two months’ time. I want the work we’ve done today to heal up. He doesn’t argue, because he knows the score. We slap palms and I see him out.
It’s getting dark out. The nights draw in early here as we get closer to winter.
“How much longer are you in tonight?” Aaron asks.
I walk back through the shop and head for the counter to check the books for my next client. “Couple more hours. I’ve only got one person coming in tonight.”
“When is the boss due back?” Juno asks.
“Tonight, at some point,” I say, checking my phone. There are no messages.
“Sooner than you think, I got a call before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I look up at Aaron.
“You were in the zone. We all know not to disturb you. Chill out, Ansel.”
I wave him off and go to the break room at the back of the shop to grab a nice cuppa. I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine so late but if I want to get through this shift, I’ll need it. Flying to New York and back in two days took it out of me.
Although I don’t live in Vancouver, I made that up because it was one night.
Boston, where I live, isn’t so far from New York but it’s not like I jumped a train from London to Liverpool.
We don’t close until eleven. It feels like I’ve barely sat down when I’m called back out front.
“Ansel, your nine thirty is here!”
Slapping my palm against my knee, I shove to my feet, downing the tea, which isn’t hot enough to scald my vocal cords, and set the empty mug in the sink. I’ll come back and wash it later. washing my hands, I shove my hair out of my face and head out to the shop floor.
There is a woman at the counter, with long raven colored hair, wearing a skintight black dress and red heels. She turns around to face me as I emerge from the hallway.
My eyes widen and I stare at the familiar tattoo on her shoulder. The one I ran my tongue over two nights ago at the hotel in New York.
Her jacket falls to her side, and she flips her hair as our eyes lock. My heart pounds as I take in her gorgeous face. The light reflects on something on her hand and I stare at it. At the engagement and wedding rings on her finger.
She wasn’t wearing a ring the other night.
And I’m glad it’s back on her finger now.
“Hey babe,” I walk towards her.
“Hi there, handsome,” she steps into my open arms. “Miss me?”
“More than you know,” I smirk, then kiss her. “Your flight back okay?”
“It would have been better if you came ,” she gives me a naughty look.
I grin back and squeeze her ass, then kiss the tattoo on her shoulder. The one I gave her the night we got engaged.
“You two are gross,” Aaron says, mock gagging. “Can you take this reunion elsewhere? You gotta stop going out of town if this is the shit we gotta put up with when you get back, Hol.”
“You’re fired, Aarron,” Hollie says, without looking at him, stroking her fingers through my hair as she keeps her gaze locked with mine.
“Yeah, yeah, heard that before, boss,” he grumbles as he walks away. He goes over to my client and offers her a drink.
I share another kiss with my boss. Who is also my smoking hot wife. Taking her hand, I lift it up and kiss her wedding ring.
Hollie gives me a sultry look, almost identical to the one she gave me across the bar at the hotel in New York.
It was her idea to be strangers in a bar. She texted to make sure I got home ok and told me she enjoyed my Canadian in town for a family wedding back story. Hollie was in New York for a work-related thing.
Every year, on our anniversary, we pretend to be strangers who meet by chance. Coming up with elaborate lives for our alter egos is one of the best parts about what we do. Not that our marriage needs strengthening. This woman is it for me. I’m fucking lucky to have her call herself my wife.
She strokes my cheek, then she slaps it, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make me catch her wrist, grinning at her.
“Do you want me to bend you over my knee, peel down your panties and spank your pussy?”
“Yes please,” she breathes. “Maybe after everyone’s left?”
God, this woman.
“I love you, Ansel Walker.”
“Love you harder, Hollie Walker.”
Leaning in, she pinches my ass and winks. “Same time next year?”