Chapter 19 #2
“How are you holding up? I’m trying to be as gentle as possible,” I tell him a little nervously. He’s probably had much more adept artists than me and is used to an easier time of it.
“You’re doing so well, mi sueno,” he says with a wink, and goddamn does that lethal combination of words and wink make everything in me clench.
“Alright you, behave yourself so I can concentrate on getting the finishes perfect,” I say a little breathily, and he chuckles.
I put on a fresh pair of gloves after having a few sips of water and fire up the machine again.
He chose red to fill it in, and I love how it pops with the rest of his sleeve as the color starts to bring the flower to life.
I crack my neck and roll my shoulders since they’re beginning to tighten up after sitting bent over for so long.
He uses his free hand to cup the back of my neck and kneads gently as I work, and the spark I always feel when Carlo touches me shoots straight through to my core, waking all of my nerve endings.
My heart begins to pound a frantic rhythm, because him touching me while I’m inking him feels so damn intimate.
His fingers gently work the tense muscles while I’m hunched over him, his thumb sweeping down the column of my neck.
“You’re distracting me,” I murmur, trying to act like I’m admonishing him, but the effect is ruined when I lean into it practically purring.
I’m pathetic and I’m past caring about it.
He gives me a few more caresses before bringing his hand back to his side, leaning toward me so his breath coasts over my ear in a husky whisper.
“You’re so tense, sweetheart. I’m just trying to get you to relax a little before I make you completely boneless from orgasms tonight.
Having my girlfriend tattoo me is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
” I shiver, but luckily my hand remains steady as I finish filling the outline with red.
I switch back to black to do some shading so that the hibiscus has dimension and movement that echoes the rest of the flowers on his sleeve.
I’m really happy with how it looks like it belongs with the other flowers, while still having the stamp of my personal drawing style and aesthetic.
I do a final wipe down of the fresh ink and breathe a huge sigh of relief that it came out the way I hoped.
“Ta da,” I singsong to Carlo, motioning to his new tattoo like a game show host. “Are you happy with it?” He looks at it with intensity, taking in every detail.
“I fucking love it, mi sueno,” he rasps before taking out his phone and asking me to take a picture of it.
He beams into the camera, flexing his bicep and pointing at the new tattoo with his other hand.
I give him back his phone and I see his thumbs working for a minute.
Then with a cheesy grin, he shows me the post he just made on social media with the picture. The caption reads:
“New ink done by the woman of my dreams. Come see her at Living Arts Tattoo!”
He’s tagged both me and the tattoo shop in it.
I’ve never done a relationship, let alone on social media, but this feels like a soft launch to me.
Is this a soft launch? Or a hard launch?
I have no clue, but it’s giving me a huge swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
I’ve looked at his social media before, we added each other not long after I moved in.
A scan of the page shows mostly pictures of nature, him in exotic locations, him and Taran, his family.
No other women. I should be mature and not care whether there are other women on his social media since they’d be before my time, but my possessive lizard brain loves it.
So much so that I pull out my own phone without a word and hold it up to take a picture of him.
He cheeses for me immediately, pointing at the tattoo and making a kissy face.
I go to my fairly neglected social media, which has essentially become dedicated to Morticia, Gomez, and food, and post the picture with the caption:
“Got to tattoo this absolute hunk today,” complete with a panting emoji. He laughs when I show him.
“An absolute hunk, huh?” He has the biggest, most delighted smirk on his face.
“I said what I said, and I stand by it,” I tell him, popping up on my toes to peck him on the lips.
“Good, because you’re permanently inked on my skin now with the other important women in my life. There’s no getting rid of me now, sweetheart,” he says playfully, nipping at my ear. I shake my head, but I know there’s no hiding the delight on my face.
“Let me finish bandaging you and we’ll go home.” He cups my neck, bringing me into him for another kiss that sears me to my bones.
“I fucking love hearing you call it home.” he whispers against my lips.
I smile up at him because damn do I like saying it.
I love having a home with this man. He’s made it into a giant care package that makes me feel welcome, safe, and loved.
It’s the first time I’ve felt truly at home in 20 years, and it means everything to me.
After bandaging him up, I quickly help Brian and Molly close the shop, and Molly fusses over us a little, saying we must come to dinner sometime.
We head home to our crazy kitties circling us and meowing loudly.
Once we give them some love and a couple of treats, we shut them out of the bedroom.
The minute the door is shut, Carlo is pressing me into it, caging me with his arms, kissing me like the world is burning down around us and these are our last moments.
He hoists me up and I immediately wrap my legs around his waist, giggling as he brings me to the bed and lays me out before hovering above me.
“I have never seen anything hotter in my life than you tattooing your favorite flower on me. Best tattoo I’ve ever gotten,” he groans.
“High praise,” I murmur on his mouth before kissing him again, letting his words surround me like a comforting blanket.
This is what I’ve been missing from my life for so long.
A true partner who lifts me up, supports me, and treats me like I’m important to them.
Who takes care of me when I need it but lets me stand on my own when I need it, too.
Someone who makes me weak at the knees with just a glance and knows exactly how to play my body like a favorite instrument.
Someone who makes me feel strong and brave enough to be vulnerable.
I wish I hadn’t spent more than a year keeping him at a distance, but then again, it might not have played out this way if things went differently.
It took a disaster to bring us together at the right moment.
I cup his face and look him in the eyes.
“I love you,” I tell him in a low voice that I can’t stop from quavering with emotion. I watch his eyes completely soften, his face breaking into the most dazzling smile I’ve ever seen from him. He gathers me to him, burying his face in my neck before raining kisses down all over my neck and face.
“If that didn’t make it obvious enough, I love you too.
So much, mi sueno,” he rasps in my ear. He raises his head to look at me with so much feeling in his eyes that my breath catches.
Cupping my face with one hand while hovering over me with the other, he runs his thumb along my cheekbone, across my bottom lip, and back in a slow motion while he searches my face.
It’s as though he’s trying to memorize every line of my expression in this charged moment, and I do the same.
I take in the warm brown of his eyes that are so filled with happiness, his sharp jaw with the barest hint of stubble, the faint scar above his top lip that he once told me he got from face planting while skateboarding.
A lock of his hair falls in front of his face and I automatically push it back, running my fingers through the soft, thick strands.
He leans into it, closing his eyes and turning to kiss my palm.
Then he looks at me again with so much intensity.
“I’m going to take my time showing you how it feels to have someone truly make love to you, mi sueno,” he breathes.