With one knee bent, he slips a hand between his legs.
He loves to get a rise.
I send him a silent warning, jaw tense and brow raised.
I try and fail not to think about that video.
The way Marco's back curved.
The rough edge of his voice, breaking as he surrendered to desire.
Adjusting a small desk fan, I hope the chill might distract me.
My pants grow tighter anyway.
Dark hair falls across my brow.
I hold my hand steady to form a delicate swish.
The curve of the letter E.
My client’s arm relaxes, cool air from the fan calming her nerves.
“You're the bravest customer I've had all day,” I tell her. “I really love the quote you chose.”
“I saw it on a fridge magnet,” she smiles. “I can't remember the name. Henry, maybe?” “Henry David Thoreau,” I confirm. I know it by heart. “The second half of your quote says: There is no remedy for love… but to love more.”
I hear an audible sigh from the couch. Marco has melted into the cushions.
Neither of us have dared to say the L word yet.
But sometimes we trace the outline of a heart in mid air or on bare skin.
It’s an unspoken thing that only started happening about a week ago.
I turn my head just in time to see the second loop of his declaration.
He holds my gaze until the client clears her throat.
Wiping her wrist one last time, I inspect each fresh line with quiet satisfaction.
“Let's get you wrapped up,” I say, opening the drawer beside me. I apply a gentle aftercare balm. “That should heal nicely in a few days,” I assure her. “Feeling okay?”
She nods, unable to stop staring at her arm. A look of wonder fills her eyes.
It’s the same with most first timers.
That newbie joy has become one of the things I love most about my job.
Removing my gloves one finger at a time, I toss them into the bin.
???
As soon as she's gone, my eyes return to Marco.
A pair of arms curl around my waist before I’ve even locked the door.
“Sometimes I daydream about your first time. If you ever wanted to…”
