Chapter 5 #2
"Perfect." It comes out as more of a whisper than I was intending. Fuck, that sounded creepy. But she does look so perfect lying there. "I'm going to go print out the stencil, and I'll be right back."
"I'll be here."
I walk around the corner to where our printer is set up. While the piece prints out in various sizes, I lean back against the wall and close my eyes.
"Dude." My eyes shoot open, startled by the sudden voice in the hallway with me. "You're so fucked."
I put my middle fingers up, but Arlo just chuckles, shaking their head, as they walk back into their office. My head is so messed up right now.
I grab the printed stencils and make my way back to where B is still lying there, playing on her phone.
"Actually, you can stand up for a second while we pick a size." She sits up and dangles her feet off the edge of the chair again. "Here are some options; let me know if you want it bigger or smaller."
"Bigger is always better."
I just can't help myself. "Well, you don't want to go too big."
"Right. It might not fit."
I know what she's doing. Why am I playing into it? Maybe because she seems very amused with herself, and I like it.
"Exactly."
She takes the stencils from me and stands in front of my mirror, holding each one to the upper portion of her stomach.
When she finally decides on one, I place it dead center, just under her chest. When she's satisfied with the placement, she lies back down on the chair, and I get my supplies ready.
She chokes on a laugh when I approach her.
“What’s so funny now?”
“You’ve got a little…”
She starts to sit up, reaching for my face, but I push her back down with a hand on her shoulder. “Careful, the stencil ink hasn’t dried yet.”
“Great, then we might have time to wipe it off.”
“You want to change it?” I have flashbacks to my nightmare client, but I remind myself that this is her body and she can change whatever she wants.
“No. On you, dumbass.” She points to my face. “You’ve got some of the purple ink on your cheek. I was going to wipe it off for you before you slammed me back down on this chair.”
I look in the mirror behind me and confirm that I do indeed have ink on my face. “I didn’t slam you,” I defend myself as I wipe the ink off my face.
“Wasn’t hard enough if you ask me.”
I ignore her comment and slip back into professional mode. “You ready?”
"Yes. But damn, it's going to be hard not to laugh."
"What?"
"I've always thought getting tattoos kind of tickles. It's always difficult for me not to laugh. Now with this one being on my stomach...I wouldn't want to fuck up your work."
I'm trying to move past the part where she said it tickles. "We'll work through it together. Once I get a better feel for the rhythm of your breathing, it'll get easier. I'll start with the parts that are harder to fuck up so we both have some time to get into it."
Why does everything we talk about sound so damn sexual?
"Sounds good to me."
I hover over her, trying to get into a comfortable position. "I'm going to be getting pretty up close and personal here. Let me know if you get uncomfortable, and I can try to find different positions to work in."
"You do whatever you need to do. I'm not shy."
"I've gathered that."
I lean over her torso and find a good place to rest my right elbow on the other side of her for balance. My other hand rests on her stomach to hold her skin taut.
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
I start with a few strokes of my machine across her skin, and she doesn't even flinch. I do a few more, and my hand moves with her stomach as she giggles.
"Sorry. I told you it tickles."
"Just try to breathe and focus on something else. Nice slow breaths so you don't move a lot."
"I know, I know."
I start working again, this time with minimal interruptions.
I’ve never been nervous to touch a client before, but I find myself acutely aware of how soft her skin is, the curve of her hips beneath me, and the way she’s filled out enough for her ribcage not to show.
It makes me want to take a bite out of her, and the way I’m leaning in close has my lips within reach of her soft stomach.
Fuck, this is going to be a long session…
An hour goes by without me even noticing. The only reason I stop to check the time is because Arlo's client has shown up for her appointment.
B and I haven't been talking. I usually try to keep a conversation flowing with my clients to keep them distracted, but with the location of this piece, talking would only make things harder. Plus, B doesn't seem one bit fazed by the work.
"Do you need a break?"
She moves her phone to the side to look at me. "No, I'm good. But if you do, feel free to take one."
"I'm good to keep going."
Without responding, she goes back to her phone. I start up again and try to drown out the high-pitched whining of the girl in Arlo's chair. She's not in pain. They actually haven't even started. No, she's just psyching herself out. Arlo's trying their best to calm her, but she's really nervous.
Another hour passes. Arlo's client is long gone, having only spent ten minutes in Arlo's chair to get a small heart tattooed on her wrist. I glance up to check on B and notice that her phone is now lying on her chest, her hands placed gently over top of it, and her eyes shut.
Is she sleeping?
I know she wants this, but something feels wrong about tattooing a girl who's passed out in my chair. I take this opportunity to get up, stretch my legs, and grab a drink of water.
By the time I get back, she's back on her phone, her nap clearly over.
"You know they say that if a person can fall asleep during a tattoo session, they're a little bit crazy, right?"
"Traumatized."
"Sorry?"
She looks up at me, that permanent smirk still on her face. "The thing they say is that you're traumatized if you can fall asleep while getting stabbed with needles repeatedly."
"Same thing."
She sticks her tongue out at me. Like, actually just stuck her tongue out at me.
This little brat is just begging to be spanked.
No, stop that! Knock it off, Kass. She's a fucking client, not your plaything.
But I'd like her to be.
An hour later, I'm doing the final touches on her piece.
I lean back to get a good look at it, trying to see if there's anything I missed.
I have to say that it's one of my best pieces in this style.
The eyes look so life-like, you can feel them staring at you as the flames dance around them. Which is exactly what she asked for.
"Alright, you ready to take a look?"
"Hells yeah!" She sits up and walks over to the mirror. "Holy shit. This is so fucking cool."
"Anything missing?"
"No. It's perfect." Her smile spans from ear to ear, and I can't help but notice how beautiful she looks when she's this happy.
"I'm glad you like it."
I start wrapping her freshly inked skin.
"Thank you. For real. This is exactly what I was envisioning. It's like you took the image right out of my brain and slapped it on my skin. Actually, it's better than that. I was considering drawing it myself, but I'm so glad I didn't."
"You draw?"
"Paint mostly. I'm decently artistic, but this is way better than anything I could have drawn up. I can't wait to show Daniel."
My stomach sinks a bit. Does she have a boyfriend? Her social media didn't give any hints of one. And she was definitely flirting with me today, right? Or am I just that delusional?
The wrap is placed, so I roll my chair back, away from her nearly naked torso. "I'm sure your boyfriend will love it. Just tell him to take it easy on you until it heals."
She bursts out laughing. "He's going to die when I tell him you said that. He's my boss, not my boyfriend."
"Oh." I can feel my cheeks start to heat up. I should have just kept my mouth shut. It's seriously none of my business anyway.
"Don't worry, I'm available."
"Right...." I'm somehow more uncomfortable now.
I want to ask her how, but that's so inappropriate. Raina and Arlo would eat me alive if they found out I was hitting on a client. They’re already going to give me so much shit for my earlier comments that I guarantee Arlo overheard.
They've taught me a lot about the female perspective, and it's really shaped me into the man I am today.
I know that just because I perceive a woman to be flirting with me, it doesn't necessarily mean she wants me.
"This is the part where you ask me out," B says.
I guess in this case she does.
"Is that right?"
"Mhm. But then I'd tell you that I'm emotionally unavailable and that I don't date."
"So then, where would that leave us?"
"Then you'd say that it doesn't matter to you."
This girl gets more and more interesting every second. "It doesn't?"
"Nope. Then I'd have to crush your dreams by telling you that my tattoo artist told me to take it easy, so we can't fuck rough."
"I did hear that come out of his stupid mouth."
"And unfortunately, I only fuck rough. So..."
"Seems like I'm out of luck then."
"Afraid so."
She slips her shirt on and carefully slides the wrap that was around her chest out from under it.
She collects her things from the bench and starts walking toward the door.
I watch her walk away, and my dick twitches in my pants at the thought of grabbing that ass and making her mine.
I usually don't objectify women like that, but right now she wants me to. I know she does.
As if she can feel my stare heating up her backside, she turns around, just before she reaches the front door. "Maybe I'll see you around some time."
"Maybe you will."
"Already starting to brainstorm my next tattoo idea."
And just like that, she's gone. As if she didn't just show me a glimpse of her cards. As if she didn't just crawl under my skin with the threat of seeing her again, but in a professional setting where I'm not allowed to touch her.