Ink #3
She smiled wide. “You got it! Don’t work too late. Bye, Ink. Nice koala, chickee! Hope to see you again.” She hooked her arm around her husband’s waist. “We’ll head out the back to the bike.”
I waved with the hand not finishing up the last bit of white around the koala’s furry neck.
“Those two always like that?” Sunny asked.
My hackles rose on instinct. I didn’t take kindly to people judging my brethren or their old ladies. Those two, regardless of their lack of modesty, were two of the best people I’d ever known in my entire life. I’d die for either one of them.
“Gone for one another. I swear it was like cartoon hearts were popping up all around them like an aura,” she teased.
I chuckled and exhaled, relief filling my veins as I realized how cool this woman really was. “Yeah, they are.”
“Good for them,” she hummed, and I finished the last of her tattoo and spread some petroleum jelly along the three-by-four-inch area.
“Go take a look.” I slipped off my gloves and tossed them to the bin.
She scrambled up, now back to her sunny disposition, and took in her tattoo in the long mirror. “It’s incredible. So lifelike! Thank you, Ink. I’ll love it forever.”
“Glad you like it. At first I was thinking tatting a koala bear was a little lame for a Friday night.”
She pursed her lips and cocked her head.
“Or for anytime.”
Her head tipped back, and she laughed heartily, crossing her arms over her abdomen.
“Then you proved me wrong. Don’t suppose I’ll ever forget you or see a koala bear without remembering what happened here tonight.”
“Two memories for the price of one.” She waggled her hips and danced a little in a circle.
The woman was endearing.
I cleaned up my space while she dug through her purse and got out the cash we’d agreed on before I started her ink.
I shook my head. “Can’t take it.”
“Why not?” She frowned.
“Babe, seriously? Fucked you. Tatted you. Want to fuck you again after I buy you a couple beers and a burger at O’Donnell’s.”
She put a hand to her hip. “I don’t even know you and you want to take me out to dinner and drinks? Give me a free tattoo? Do you even know my name?”
“Woman…”
She bugged out her eyes playfully.
I liked this game.
Fuck.
I liked this girl.
“You say woman and what? I answer with man?”
“Get your shit. Taking you for burgers, beers, and another round of boning. This time preferably on a comfy mattress where I get to see and put my mouth all over you.”
She ran her fingers through her hair and twisted her lips around. “Oh, I don’t know…it’s getting kind of late. Besides, how do I know I can trust you?”
I came to stand in front of her, hooked her around the waist and pressed her to my chest. “What’s your name, Sunshine?”
Her lips twitched, and her nose crinkled. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Gonna find out one way or another.”
She shrugged. “Then I vote for another.”
“Jesus. Crazy bitches with koala bear tattoos and hair that shines like the sun who ride cock like a goddess. I must have been hit in the head too many times as a wayward teen to want to move forward with this.”
She snorted. Actually snorted with her laughter until she covered her mouth with her hand.
“I heard that.”
“You didn’t!”
“Babe, you just snorted like a piglet. Maybe instead of Sunshine I’ll call you Piglet?”
Her eyes widened, and I steered her out of my shop to the back alley where my bike sat.
“You wouldn’t dare call me that.”
“I would if you don’t tell me your real name…”
She groaned. “Fine. It’s Clementine.”
“Shut the fuck up?” I practically stumbled swinging my leg over my Harley.
Sunny grinned and bit her bottom lip. “No, it’s not.” She piggy-snort laughed again, and I couldn’t help but lose the plot in response, laughing alongside her.
“Woman, get on the back of my bike.”
She jumped up and down like a little girl and clapped her hands before putting her purse over her form cross-body. “We’re going for three memories tonight, Ink. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle.” She put her arm to my shoulder and swung a long leg over the back.
When I got her settled, I started the bike and revved it so she could feel the power between her thighs in a way I would die trying to match in the bedroom tonight, after burgers and beers.
“What’s your name, baby?”
“Caroline.”
“Sweet Caroline, just like the song?”
Her lips pressed to my ear. “Just like the song.”
We rode to O’Donnell’s, where we met up with Riot, Mags, Holly, Tank, Shadow, and a few other brothers from the Pride. Whip was behind the bar sneaking kisses from his old lady, Anya, the local ballet teacher in town.
I pushed through the crowd and presented Caroline to my family.
“Hey, everyone, this is Caroline, but she goes by Sunny.”
The End.