by Anthology
She lifts her eyes, locking them with mine. “My right hip. Should I take off my pants?”
How the hell does she think I’m going get the tattoo on her skin if she doesn’t? Her pants are sexy as hell but not tattoo friendly. She’s either leaving the shop in her underwear or staying here with me, once I get in them.
“Yeah, I need to prep the skin. Any specific colors you want in the design?”
She unbuttons her pants. “No, whatever you think will look best.”
My jeans suddenly tighten as she slides down her pants, exposing electric blue underwear. Normally I’d curse under my breath about women who complain about being viewed as sex objects but use their bodies to bring us to our knees every damn chance they get. Hailey’s the ultimate tease right now with the innocence of a virgin on prom night. Weird, like she doesn’t know she’s smokin’ hot. I’d be tapping that every second of the day, or at least trying to. College boys aren’t as smart as they think if they’re letting that piece of tail get away. She has no clue what she does to guys. Her skin glistens under the bright lights. Perfectly pure skin, not a blemish or mark; a tattoo artist’s dream. I sit on my stool, trying to calm down before my zipper rips open.
Alright Vic, time to shine. I pull on a pair of black rubber gloves even though I want to touch her, to run my hands from her hip to her thigh, slowly making my way down until she’s begging for more. Bet she’s never been with a guy like me, yet.
She breathes heavy, gripping the arms of the tattoo chair like it’s the only thing to save her from the apocalypse. I spray a gauze cloth with alcohol. She closes her eyes and leans back in the chair. Dammit, I’m losing her.
“Just alcohol.” I stare at her face, willing her eyes to open.
She nods and slowly lifts her lids. “I’m just a little nervous.”
“Don’t be. I’m pretty good with my hands.” I wink. That line works wonders in a variety of situations. The first time I walked into a shop trying for an apprenticeship, the first time I scored with a client, hell even the first time a girl let me tattoo her when I had no clue what I was doing. Magic words.
I swipe the cloth against her hot skin, slowly dragging it down toward her thigh. Goosebumps follow the path of my hand. The aroma of her fruity perfume blocks out the pungent alcohol. I lean forward, trying to take it all in.
She turns toward me watching every move like I’m about to operate. Pretty much what’s happening, I’m about to scar her with an image for life. She nibbles her lip, looking up at me with doe eyes.
I toss the cloth and roll my stool closer to her. “Now I draw the image on your skin. I find freehand drawings more natural. You ready?”
Her tongue darts out of her mouth and runs along her lips. “Yeah.”
Her wet lips sparkle under the fluorescent light. My heart speeds like those lips are wrapped around me sending me floating into oblivion. I blink repeatedly and jolt back to reality. Right, the tattoo.
I grab my purple marker with one hand and hold her skin with the other. She flinches and tenses her muscles. I let it go. Sometimes it’s easier to draw on a tensed muscle. I swipe the ink along her hip, forming the lines into the design her friend drew up. It’s not like I’m painting the Sistine Chapel but I want it perfect for Hailey. Something that reminds her of me every time her eyes sweep over the ink.
What the hell is with me tonight? I’ve banged girls way hotter than her. Maybe I’m working too many hours and my brain is fried.
I roll the stool backward and drop the marker on my tray. “How’s it look?”
She flashes a small smile and tilts to the side, checking out the drawing. Her face lights up the room. “Amazing. Guess the rumors are true.”
“Really? Which ones?” God knows what she’s heard about me. Girls talk, and if the ones who attended the one-night-only Vic Steele show after-hours talk around campus I’ve got the reputation of Gene Simmons after a bottle of Viagra.
“You’re the best. Hands down.” She locks eyes with me.
Normally I’d follow that up with a sexual innuendo but the way she looks at me, with those clear green eyes full of innocence and trust...I can’t do it even though I want to bang her into next week.
“You’re about to see how good it gets.” Okay, she can take it how she wants.
I set up some small cups and fill them with different colored ink. She watches my every move, like she’s memorizing the steps. Is she planning on selling my secrets to the competition? Sadly, no artists around here come close to anyone in this shop. Don’t get me wrong, being the best rocks but a little competition is fun sometimes.
I dip my tattoo gun in black ink to get started on the outline. She breaks out into a frenzy of shivers, like someone just blasted her with arctic air. Great. Shaking does wonders for line work.
I place my hand on her hip, trying to steady her. “Nothing worse than a cat scratch.”
“I’ve had cats all my life and when they scratch it hurts like hell.” She places a death grip on the arms of the chair.
“Catching yourself with a sewing needle?” I shrug.
She shakes her head. “Nope, that’s worse… How about getting a paper cut.”
I jerk my head back. “Are you insane, those things hurt worse than getting stabbed.”
She relaxes her muscle and chuckles. “Okay, we’ll just say it feels like getting a tattoo, nothing else like it.”
I nod. “Sounds like a deal. You ready?”
“Can’t wait to get your hands on me?” She blushes. “I mean…”
“Just relax, I’ll do all the work.” If I told her the things I’d like to do to her she’d be out of here and on her way to the police station for a PFA.
She leans back in the chair and takes a deep breath. “I trust you.”
The words burn through me with the fire of a thousand hells. I brush it off and hold the skin on her hip tight. The buzz of the gun sounds through the shop, singing sweet music to my ears. I eye the design and press the needle to her skin.
She gasps and lets out a low moan. A split second later, she goes completely limp. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
I set the gun on my tray. “Hailey… Hey, not that bad, right?”
No answer. Her head rolls forward like you see in the movies after the homicidal killer sticks a knife through the victim’s back. She limps over, falling on top of herself. Shit. I knew I should’ve paid more attention in C.P.R. class. Maybe if the instructor didn’t look like she was ripped off the pages of Playboy magazine I could’ve concentrated on the steps.
I pull off my gloves and fling them on the table. “Hailey.” Not a peep. I tap each side of her chin softly. “Hey, wake up.” The only sound is the buzzing of tattoo guns. God Dammit. My heart pounds against my chest. What if she has some condition she failed to tell me about and she’s going into shock or something? One last try before I call an ambulance.
I spray some alcohol along my index finger and hold it under her nose. She cringes the second she breathes in the pungent odor. Ah ha, we’re getting there. She presses her head against the headrest of the leather chair and slowly opens her eyes.
“You okay?” I hover over her.
“You have a business degree from Northern U?” she mutters, almost whispering.
How the hell does she know that? She shifts her gaze to the wall behind me. I turn to find the object of her interest. Jesus, I forgot that was up there. I focus on the framed bachelor’s degree hanging on the wall in a black frame. It seems like another lifetime. Five years and no one ever noticed it before. She’s probably delirious. Whatever keeps her talking and conscious works for me.
“Yeah. Back from my Wall Street days.” I press the back of my hand against her face. Cool and clammy, not a good sign.
Her face instantly flushes. “Tattoos and suits, perfect combination.” Her lips upturn into a sweet smile.
Is she trying to be funny, or is this her number one pick-up line? “Best of both worlds.” I’ve
only thrown on a suit for weddings and funerals, but the degree comes in handy when you own your own business. Much more to it than slinging ink. I lean back, trying to give her some air. “Do you want me to stop?” Never in the history of the world has any chick told me yes to that question.
She shakes her head. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
She nods. “Yeah, now that I know what to expect, my nerves are in check…unless you plan on surprising me.”
Hmm, I like her when she’s teetering on the edge of consciousness. Sexy, but has no clue of all the innuendos she’s throwing at me tonight. Or maybe this whole sweet and innocent deal is all an act.
“Okay, here we go. Round two.” I take my gun from the tray and dip the needle in some more black ink.
She turns her head toward me, staring at the needle. I hold her skin taut and fire up the tattoo gun. The buzzing starts again. She watches the needle pierce her skin, leaving a small black dot. Her face turns ashen and wobbles forward…again.
I toss the gun back on the tray and lean my arm out. Kind of like my Mom did back in the day when she made a sudden stop while driving and seatbelts weren’t a necessity. I catch her before she swings off the side of the chair.
That’s it, game over. I’ve had enough of this shit. No way am I touching her again…at least not with the tattoo gun. With my luck she’ll crack her head off the floor and end up with a concussion. Just what I want, to knock out a client and have the reputation of skull crusher. Sad part is, it would probably increase my business. If I want my career to take off to the point where I can open a shop down in Miami I need a squeaky-clean, untarnished, professional reputation.
I jump up from my stool, kicking it so it rolls away from us. No need to give her any obstacles on her way out of the shop. I set her back in the chair, propping her head on the headrest. Hair bunched around a face of porcelain skin, eyes closed, plump lips ready for anything. She looks like a goddamn princess. Hate to break it to her but I’m far from Prince Charming.
I nudge her shoulder. “Hailey…you’re done.”
“Hmm.” She moans.
The sound rips through me like a fire storm. The next time I hear those noises coming from her lips better be when her lips are locked around me. I let out a breath. First, this situation needs to be handled…now.
She slowly opens her eyes, locking them with mine. Silver specks shine through the sea of green, stabbing me like daggers. “It’s finished?”
“I am.” I take a step back, giving her some breathing room.
She sits up and curls her neck over a shoulder. “Where is it?”
I run my fingers over her hip. She flinches like I just pressed hot embers against her skin. “Right here.”
She scrunches her eyes. “I don’t see anything.”
“It turned out to be two dots.” I wipe down her skin with an alcohol soaked cloth.
“You can’t be serious.” She jumps up from the chair, almost tripping on the jeans fastened to her ankles. She pulls up her jeans. “When do you plan on finishing this?”
“Uh, when needles aren’t involved in tattooing.” She can’t be serious. “You passed out twice. I’m not chancing it again.”
She fastens her jeans and runs a hand through her dark curls. “I can’t walk around with an unfinished tattoo.”
I laugh. “That tattoo was barely started. Not everyone can handle being tattooed.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Are you saying I can’t handle you?”
I shrug. Sounds like a challenge to me.
“Let me enlighten you. I can do this. I was just nervous…that’s all. Let’s try again.”
I shake my head. “Sorry, I’m booked.”
“I’m sure you can make time for me if you want.” She eyes me from head to toe.
Damn right I can. “Sorry.”
“This isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”
Now that’s more like it. “Hope that’s a promise.”
She huffs and storms toward the door. “I’ll be back,” she mutters right before she rushes out the door.
CHAPTER 2—INVISIBLE
The door rips open, sending a thunderous roar of heavy wind and persistence through the shop. “Be right with you,” I yell over a shoulder. Never fails, whenever I fire up the computer to place an order or browse some porn, someone comes in unexpected.
“No problem, I’ll take a seat.”
I scrunch my eyebrows. Why does that voice make my skin crawl and burst into flames at the same time? I hit Save and turn toward the leather couch also known as the waiting area.
Hailey crosses her legs as soon as my eyes reach her body. She leans to the side, letting the black mini-skirt rise a few inches until the edge of her black panties shows for a split second. Damn. She quickly moves back as if she’s dangling what she’s got in front of me. Guess I was dead wrong, she knows exactly how to tease a guy.
“Ah, the terminator.” I tip my chin in a s’up kind of way.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She stands and pats her skirt.
“I’ll be back,” I say in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice, trying not to crack a smile.
“Funny.” She walks toward me, shaking her hips in that bring-me-to-my-knees kind of way. “I’m here to have my tattoo finished. I don’t mind waiting if you’re busy.” She spins around, scanning the empty shop.
“Not gonna happen, honey.” I fold my arms across my chest and look down at her.
She pulls her skirt to the side exposing the two dots she’s referring to as a tattoo. “I can’t walk around like this.”
My eyes instantly gravitate to her smooth skin, following the curve of her hip bone. Things would be so much better if she pulled down the rest of her skirt, and laid in my chair; that’s how magic really happens.
“I think you look great walking around like that.” I wink.
She lowers her eyebrows and pulls her skirt back up. “I want the tattoo I was promised.” She puts her hands on her hips and taps her black heel against the tile floor in time with the Imperial March.
I hold up my hands. “Whoa, I make no promises. Not to any woman, especially not in here.”
She huffs. “What’s it going to take to get my tattoo finished?”
A hundred different scenarios flash through my mind in seconds, all of them involving that skirt on the floor.
“Sorry, can’t help ya.” I shrug.
Tito walks in from the back room. “I’ll do it.”
Apparently he heard the whole conversation while he was in the can. Amazing, he couldn’t hear shit when I asked him to cover for me when two chicks came in demanding to know if I was seeing anyone else. Of course, I was seeing them both, but the tattoo gun drowned out all sound when I asked Tito to say I left for the night. Now he has friggin’ supersonic ears.
She holds down her skirt, exposing the two dots. He circles around her like a shark in a feeding frenzy.
No way in hell I’m letting him touch her. “Nope. She’s mine.”
“What?” she growls through gritted teeth.
God, she’s sexy as hell when she’s pissed…those flushed cheeks flashing a hit of red, the way her lips pout like she’s posing for a porno selfie. Way too much to handle, especially for Tito.
“You heard me. No one touches her in this shop but me.” Why do I feel like a wolverine that just pissed all over his food?
Tito does a double-take, then holds up his hands. “Got it, hands off.”
“Wait, you can’t forbid other tattoo artists from fixing you’re mistake.” She looks at Tito who shrugs and walks away. “Who the hell do you think you are, Hitler?”
“Whatever turns you on, honey.” I take a few steps backwards, eyeing her smoking hot, pissed-as-hell body, and head over to my little island in the back of the shop.
“You are finishing this tattoo,” she demands.
Her eyes burn through me. A smile breaks through as I rewind the last few minutes
in my brain. A feisty brunette dying for my needle to touch her skin. I adjust my stool, trying to hide the bulge forming in my pants. If she knew how much she was turning me on she’d probably punch me in the face, or slam me in the chair. Either way I’m all for it.
The door opens and closes with a quick swoosh. Finally, she gave up. I turn toward the sound, hoping to get a glimpse of her perfect ass as she walks away. No such luck. A tall guy with shoulder length hair grabs a tattoo album from the table. He plops down next to Hailey.
“Waiting for Hitler?” She looks over his shoulder as he flips the page.
“Huh?” The guy eyes her, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
No fucking way I’m letting him have her. “Hey, you need help, man?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a 4:30 with Tito.”
Tito swings around the corner like he’s a friggin’ fireman sliding down the pole. “I’m all set. Just finished the sketch.”
The guy runs a hand through his hair and stands up. “Maybe I’ll see you when I’m done.” He scans Hailey’s body from head to toe.
Is this guy for fucking real? “She won’t be here.”
“I’ll leave once my tattoo is finished.” She grabs a photo portfolio and leans back on the couch, flipping through the pages like she’s reading some chick magazine.
My tattoo gun won’t touch her skin again. Next time she might smash her head on the floor…or worse. Not worth it, for either one of us. She’ll get sick of this game soon.
I plop on the couch next to her, taking the last guy’s place. “Are you seriously going to sit here until we close?”
She crosses her legs, swinging her black heel around in a circle. “Yep, unless you finish the tattoo, then you’ll be rid of me.” She flips through the pages, not even turning her head to look at me.
I lean over closer. “Maybe I don’t want to get rid of you.” That’ll shake up this ridiculous game she’s playing.
She stops, frozen. Like she just heard something she never thought possible. She turns her head toward me, moving closer so our lips almost touch. “Maybe I don’t want to leave.”