Her entire expression changes.
“I love it.”
“This will take hours,” I tell her. “Six at least.”
She laughs softly.
“I think you’re forgetting how little pain bothers me when you tattoo me.”
My mouth lifts slightly.
“You enjoy it too much.”
She looks back over her shoulder.
“I only enjoy it when it’s you.”
I pull on gloves and begin preparing her skin. The antiseptic wipes across her back in slow passes. She inhales sharply when the cold liquid touches her skin, and the muscles along her shoulders tighten before relaxing again.
I measure the center of her spine, spread the stencil gel, and press the design into place, smoothing it down carefully as my fingers brush her skin.
My pulse picks up every time I touch her.
I switch on the tattoo machine. The buzzing vibration fills the room.
The first hour passes without problems. The needle moves steadily along the stencil lines while my hand follows the shape I drew earlier. Her body stays still while the outline slowly begins forming beneath her skin.
Then she starts moving.
At first the movement barely registers. Her shoulders roll once before settling again. Her hips shift slightly against the chair.
I lift the machine.
“You okay?”
“Mmhmm.”
She adjusts her position again.
The opening bass of “Angel” spreads slowly through the room.
She leans forward a little more.
That small movement causes the slip to shift along her hips.
The fabric parts just enough for me to see the curve of her ass.
My eyes follow the line of her spine downward before I force my attention back to the tattoo.
“You’re fidgeting.”
She smiles faintly.
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
I reset my grip on the machine and continue outlining the next section.
