He left, closing the door gently behind him. She smiled. He was treating her exactly as he would any client, giving her the privacy she needed to get into position. Mack slipped off her shirt and bra, casually dropping them on the rolling table. Pushing the yoga pants down, she found a comfortable position. Ryan must have been waiting outside, because no sooner had she stopped shifting, then he walked in carrying a selection of brushes and tubes.
He glanced at her and smiled. "Comfy?"
"Not bad," she admitted.
He sat on the stool and leaned back, opening the cabinet for a small pillow. "Lift your head?"
She did, and he set it carefully before her, catching her eyes before turning back. He pulled out more supplies and set them on the table, chuckling when he moved her shirt and bra over.
"Tease."
"Maybe a little," she admitted.
He grabbed the clothes and folded them, pausing to look at her bra, the impish corner of his lip betraying him, before setting them aside. It took him only a moment to organize.
"So, you're going to have no idea what I'm putting on you until it's done," he warned. "You ok with that?"
"You already asked me that, and I said yes."
"K. First part is cold. Sorry, nothing I can do about that." He poured a clear fluid onto a square of gauze and wiped it across her entire back, laughing when she flinched. He paused at her waist, then tugged her pants a bit lower.
It wasn't until he tossed the gauze into the trash, that she realized his hands were bare. "Gloves?" she asked.
"Don't need 'em."
"No bleeding, right."
"Not exactly." He picked up a brush. "More like you've already been tested for everything under the sun, and anything they missed, I'll end up getting, anyway."
She didn't get a chance to respond to that because the cold pigment touched her skin, making her straighten just a bit. He chuckled and moved closer, resting one arm casually against her shoulder.
"Damn that's distracting," she muttered, mostly to herself.
"Hmm?"
"Your arm. I know why the girls are always flirting with you, now."
"Sorry, hun' I'm taken, and my girl's a bit jealous," he said professionally.
"I am not," Mack shot back.
"Shh, it's a good line."
She could feel the brush caress her shoulder blades, moving higher. He used long sweeping strokes, never working in one spot for too long. It was relaxing, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers along her back, slowly working down her spine, then over. His hand brushed her arm, gently, and she shifted, moving her elbows away from her body without even thinking about it.
"You're good," she said.
"You have no idea." The brush began to move down, across her ribs, just caressing the side of her breast. She was glad her chest was pressed against the bed when her nipples hardened.
Mack bit her lip, and he paused, his free hand sliding down her body. He moved his thumb closer to her spine. She could feel his palm flow with the curve of her hip, stopping just above her ass. She closed her eyes, savoring his touch, but they flew open when his lips touched the hollow of her back.
"That's for teasing me. Now stay still, I'm working freehand. You are about to be my best work of art."
"Better than the ribbon dancer?"
He chuckled at that. "Mack, look closer at her, next time."
"When did you paint her?"
"Mm. Just after the new year. You were wearing a thigh length leather jacket, and I caught you staring off into space rubbing the end of your pen across your lip. It was the first time I got a clear look at your face. I finished her that night."
"Ryan?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"You know I'm not going to get better for a long time, right?"
"Chemo the rest of this week. Six to eight weeks of radiation with chemo once a week. Two weeks off, then a hysterectomy. Six to eight months of recovery for that." He traced the brush down her back. "Gina, one of the nurses, was more than happy to answer all of my questions this morning while you were in radiation."
"I'll never have kids."
"Me either," he said. "I have the breast cancer gene. Got tested when it came out."
"Oh."
The brush never stopped. "Keep trying, Mack. I've done my homework."
"Early menopause, vaginal dryness - "
He chuckled. "You know about the dilators?"
"They mentioned something," she admitted.
"Yeah. I know what I'm getting into, Mack. All the inconvenient details. I also know that it has to be a bit terrifying - and a whole lot embarrassing."
She nodded. "I'm trying to think of it clinically."
"Look," he said, finally lifting the brush, wiping it clean. He set it down and grabbed another, loading it with pigment before he continued. "I'm thirty-one, Mack. I'm not looking for a weekend fling. I happen to know a woman who is beautiful, even with a purple flat top. Ok, especially with it. You're smart, talented, kind, and so damned sweet that I can't stop thinking about you." The paint touched her skin again, trailing gently down her back. "You haven't said a thing about me being a high school drop-out. You act like this business is respectable, not some drug dealer's haven." He chuckled. "And you look really good in my bed, wearing my clothes."
She giggled. "Ok. I just kinda feel like I'm taking advantage of your need to take care of the underdog."
"You probably wouldn't believe this, but it's not really a thing for me. Yeah, both you and Colby may have a story, but so does everyone."
"Ok?"
He changed brushes again. "I just saw something in him. He was begging for someone to help, and refused to quit. I figured the worst that happened was I fired him. I gave him the chance, he did the rest, and I got a damned good friend out of the deal. Not quite the same for you, though."
"Go on?"
He leaned over and kissed the side of her hip, then tugged the waistband just a bit lower still. "I figured that if you worked for me, at least I'd still be able to draw you."
"Now you're drawing on me."
"Painting," he corrected. "And yeah. I am. Damn, this is good." She laughed, and he swatted her hip with the back of his hand. "No wiggling."
"What is it?" she asked.
"You can't tell?"
"No, you're all over the place."
"Then you have to wait," he teased. "It's symbolic."
"I need a shirt that's low in the back," she said, "to show this off."
"Yeah," he agreed. "Low in the front too."
"Ryan!"
"What! You've been walking around my apartment for almost a week with a thin little tank and no fucking bra." He drew another line, then paused. "Mack?"
"Yeah?"
"You tell your family, yet?"
"No," she admitted. "I was hoping to get a bit of good news, first."
"Mack, it's December. Christmas is coming. You don't think they're going to want to know where you are and how you're doing?"
She shrugged, and he tapped her hip again out of reflex.
"Dad might. Not real sure where mom is. She's probably high as a kite, though."
"You totally against drugs?" he asked.
"I dunno. Never really had an interest. My mind comes up with enough shit on its own, I don't need chemicals to help."
She could see him nod from the corner of her eyes, his complete attention on her back. "Pot?"
"I've never smoked anything in my life," she admitted.
"Will you try it?"
"You want me to get stoned?" It wasn't every day that your boss suggested something like that.
"Helps with the puking and pain. There's probably going to be some of both."
"You going to get high with me?" she asked.
"If that's what it takes, sure, but only after I'm done for the night. I'm a lazy artist when I'm high."
"Ryan?" she asked, his words making her realize something.
&nbs
p; "Hmm?"
"I kinda feel like, for the first time in my life, that I'm being young and irresponsible. I mean, I'm staying up late, talking about getting high, sleeping with my boss - "
"But not fucking," he reminded her.
"Right. But I mean, I do nothing but screw around all day. Playing. None of this feels like work."
"You want me to show you the books?"
"Books?"
"Finances," he clarified. "We're not screwing around, it's just a different work environment. You can pull down three hundred a night in just designs. If you ever decide to start tattooing? Yeah, it's a lot more than that. Three, four thousand a month usually."
"Are you fucking serious?"
"Yeah, we're not a big place. I mean, we could advertise and bring in more business, but I haven't found a third tattooist I want to hire. I'm not about to let shit work go out this door under my name."
"Sterling is your real name?"
"Yeah," he said. "The only good thing my dad gave me. Never knew him, so can't really bitch, but yeah."
"So, when does all the good run out?" she asked. "Sleeping in late, relaxed work environment, decent money, you know, all that?"
"When you stop respecting the work. Come in fucked up and think you can tattoo, or try to pick a fight with the clients? Yeah, it's game over. It's a job, just like any other. There are rules we play by, but they aren't the same as in an office. This is a luxury market, Mack. People want this, they don't need it, so we need to make them happy about it."
"Kinda like my surprise temporary tattoo?"
"Yeah. This is really fucking good," he told her. "Damn."
"Damn?"
"Never mind," he said. "We're good."
"Can I use the paint for my eyebrows?" she asked.
"God, Mack, I'm a fucking idiot," Ryan said suddenly. "Yeah. You can. You can also do temporary tattoos without all the crap you need to do the permanent kind. Just need a damned artist who can use a brush. It's henna based. All those girlfriends who want something, but don't want to commit? You can do this."
"This mean I get to practice on you?"
He chuckled softly. "You want me to lay quietly while you caress my skin? Sure. I'll try that."
Chapter 16
He finished the art and made her lay there, letting it dry. Mack rested her head on the pillow and let her eyes close, listening to Ryan moving around the shop. Naturally, she dozed off. His fingers on her back woke her, and without thinking, she made to turn toward him.
"Uh uh," he said softly, touching her arm. "The first time I get to see you undressed will not be because you're half asleep and turn wrong."
"I have pants on," she muttered.
"Barely," he reminded her, tracing the swell of her ass. "It's dry, Mack. Look at it, then get dressed."
He turned to walk out of the room, but she stopped him. "Wait?"
"Yeah?"
"If you're going to be a perfect gentleman, then pass me my shirt?"
He nodded, passing her both. Laying on her stomach, she handed him back the bra and unfolded her shirt. This time she was the one with the devious smile. When he turned to set her bra on the rolling table, she sat up, holding the shirt across her breasts, smiling when he immediately looked.
"Damn it," he muttered, aware of what he'd just done.
"So I'm covered." She pulled herself to her feet. "And we both know you want to see my reaction."
It was only a handful of steps to the back of the room. She turned, looking over her shoulder at the full length mirror. When she saw what he'd designed, she was truly speechless. Wispy vines of flowers wove across her hips in deep purples and greens, reaching up to her shoulders to twine around themselves. The knot of vegetation merged itself into a body as the flowers changed to fuchsia and red tones, wild roses dropping petals that began to look like feathers the further up her eye went. The body was the phoenix she'd wanted to draw so badly that first day. Its wings reached for freedom, flames licking her shoulder and the side of her breast, tendrils breaking free to dissolve back into petals. The mythical bird held a single daffodil in its mouth.
"That's amazing," Mack breathed. "God, take a picture!"
He laughed. "Stay there." He was back in a few seconds, a camera in his hand. "Look at the wall," he ordered, reminding her to stop staring at the art.
She did, and he snapped a few pictures, moving in for detail on some areas. Without warning, he leaned closer and kissed the side of her neck. Mack pressed into it, suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing, and how amazingly sexy Ryan was.
"Get dressed," he whispered, walking out of the room. The click of the latch was loud.
"He's going to kill me before this is over," she muttered.
Mack pulled on her clothes, then walked into the shop, noticing that everything had already been done while she lay there napping. Ryan leaned over the computer at the front desk, downloading the pictures from the camera.
"Can I use this in the portfolio?" he asked, tapping the binder on the counter.
"Yeah," she said. "Shit, I might talk you into doing it permanent when I'm done with all of this."
"That's a big piece," he warned. "You're talking hours of time under the needle, and in some pretty sensitive areas."
"I'm tough," she teased. "I mean, c'mon, I'm kicking the shit out of cancer, right? What's a few needles?"
"And Colby is not inking the side of your tits."
Mack laughed. "Nope. It's your design, your ink. We closed?"
"Yeah." He clicked a few things, then straightened, leaving the computer. "Door's are already locked. I just need to run a report in the office."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Keep me company? It'll only take a few seconds."
He grabbed her fingers and pulled her with him. When he sank into the chair behind his desk, he pulled her onto his lap and reached around her, his cheek pressed against her arm. A few taps of the keys, then he clicked a few more and leaned back, pulling her against him.
"Kool-aid," he said. "Or more Coke. Your call."
"The red stuff," she decided. "No caffeine, and I sure as hell don't need to be awake for hours."
"Hungry, yet?"
"I just ate!"
"Fries," he teased, wrapping his arms around her. "I meant real food. You know, I can cook."
"Really?"
"Kinda learn how to do that when you're single."
She laughed. "For three weeks."
"That doesn't count!"
"Why not?" Mack asked.
"We are not talking about Hailey." He guided her up. "No matter how hard you try, it will not happen. Go turn off the lights."
"Yes, dear." She sauntered out of the room.
"Damn that's a nice ass," he muttered.
"What?" she asked, turning in place.
"Lights!"
"How?" She gestured at her ass. "Little beauty queen was jumping on your dick, and you think this is a nice ass?"
"Lights," he said again.
"Ok, but I'm not letting this go," she warned him.
By the time she'd flipped all the switches, Ryan was in the hall, his office dark behind him. He grabbed her hand and fell in beside her, heading to that plain white door at the back of the building. She pulled away to turn off the break room lights, and he got the bathroom, checked the back door, then joined her again just in time to pull open the door to the stairs.
"So," he said as he closed it behind them, "She's all well applied cosmetics and well shaped clothes. She refused to ever eat in front of any one, and I'm pretty sure she puked half of what she did eat when she was alone. Hailey is not pretty. She's built like a teenage boy."
"Ryan, I saw her," she pointed out. "She's like a fucking super model."
He laughed. "Exactly. Not sexy. Not even pretty."
They'd reached the top of the stairs, and Mack was feeling just a bit winded from the climb. She shouldn't have, but that no longer mattered. Ryan just pointed at the c
ouch and made his way into the kitchen, pouring a glass of kool-aid before rummaging in the cabinet where he'd stored her meds. Mack had kicked off her shoes, and all but thrown herself into the couch by the time he got back.
"No curves, no tits. Trust me. Fucking two inches of padding in her damned bra. Miracle, push-up, whatever. If I wanted to date a holocaust victim, I would have."
Mack said nothing, just watched him as she swallowed pill after pill, having finally gotten into the routine.
"You, though," he said, glancing away, waiting for her to empty the glass. "Have curves in all the right places. You look like Aphrodite, Venus de Milo, or what a woman should look like."
"You're fucked in the head."
"Nope." He grabbed the glass and set it on the counter. "And no shower tonight or the pigment won't set. Go change."
"You ever think about how strange this is?" Mack asked as she walked into the other room. "You've already picked my naked body up off the floor. You are feeding and medicating me how ever many times a day. It's kinda like I'm your pet."
"You come on command?" he joked.
She spun, her mouth open in shock, then started laughing. From the look on his face, Ryan didn't realize what he said until he heard her giggles.
"I meant - " he lifted his hands, then started laughing. "Oh shit, that was bad," he managed.
"Oh yeah," Mack agreed. She turned back to the bedroom, then paused. "Ryan?"
"Yours are on the left," he said.
"I thought I was moving upstairs?"
"Eventually, if you want to." He sat on the couch with a heavy sigh. "Your bed is up there."
"Where's the stuff from my closet?"
"Door on the left side of the bed."
She made her way over and opened it, seeing a long, deep closet that was barely half full with all of her clothes. "That's huge."
"Third floor doesn't have one as nice. I happen to have two."
She flipped through the clothes and found the top she was looking for, pulling it off the hanger and folding it. Moving back into the bedroom, she lay it on her dresser, then opened her top drawer, grabbing a short nightgown. Glancing once at the open doors between the bedroom and where Ryan sat, she stripped, then pulled the soft satin over her head. Ryan sure acted like he thought she was sexy, so she had nothing to hide, right?
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