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“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Rebecca said suddenly. “It’s not that I think Caine is abusing Neely or anything. I understand it’s a consensual thing. I just find it odd. Don’t you?”
Sawyer shrugged his shoulders, even though Rebecca couldn’t see him. “Who am I to judge?”
“It’s not judging. It’s just an opinion,” she said quickly.
He smiled at the way she was quick to defend herself. She was a fiery one, for sure.
“I just believe in an equal partnership,” she added.
“As do I.”
“And I believe that a man should always respect a woman.”
“As do I.”
“I also believe that a man is no better than a woman,” she went on.
“As do I.”
“So you agree that the barbaric belief of Domestic Discipline is insane?”
“No,” he stated simply. “I actually believe in and stand behind it one hundred percent.”
She looked over her shoulder in shock, forcing him to stop the tattoo. “What?” she whispered.
He gently placed his fingers on her cheek, pushing her to turn her face forward once more. When she’d done so, he dipped his gun in the ink and continued. “I actually owe it to Caine,” he said. “He introduced me to it many years ago. I believe in Domestic Discipline, and if I choose to ever be in a relationship again, I would definitely want to incorporate it.”
“Really?” she squeaked. “I should have known that Neely would send me to a tattoo artist that spanks.”
Sawyer laughed out loud. Not something he did often. He was actually enjoying this tattoo session so far. “Well, I hope I’m known for more than just that. I may be a barbarian who spanks, but I give a mean tattoo.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you with everything I just said.”
“You didn’t. You are entitled to your opinion.”
Her face turned almost crimson. “I wish I could climb in a hole right now. Talk about foot in mouth.”
Sawyer smiled again. There was something about this girl that made him do that often. “Don’t worry. As long as you stay still, I won’t spank you,” he teased.
42
Rebecca didn’t respond. What was there to say? Should she tease him back? All she knew was that her face was hot as hell, her back hurt like a bitch, she was sweating above her lip, and she may have insulted the one person who could destroy her looks with one slip of his hand. She wasn’t exactly holding it together. She was going to give Neely hell for this. Really? Her best friend had to set her up with a spanking tattoo artist? Was this a joke? Or maybe it was just that everyone in the world was now into this kink.
She strained, but couldn’t hear any response from behind her. His silence was disturbing, and it made her anxiety do funny things. Suddenly she was worried that he found her back disgusting, and that he just couldn’t bear to open his mouth again. Another thought crashed into her head that he was maliciously giving her a bad tattoo because of how much of a rude and offensive beast she was.
The needle started to really hurt, and her body flexed to get out of the seat. Sawyer sat back for a moment and took his time dabbing away some ink.
“Most artists are freaked out when they start tattooing,” he said, seemingly completely oblivious to the torrential downpour of fear racing through Rebecca at that moment. “They go in all timid and shit, freaked out every time they pick up a machine.”
“But not you, huh?” she asked, trying to get her mind off the fact that he was going to turn her back into a sideshow attraction. She was also grateful for the topic change.
“Neh,” he answered. “I’ve always just known I could do this.”
The needle whirred and began to cut another streak into her back again. He was working right over her ribs this time and the sensation was unreal.
“They say that when you get your first tattoo, you should get it on a spot with a lot of muscle or fat beneath it to help pad the sensation. That’s why every douchebag redneck you see has a tattoo on the outside of his shoulder. It’s because that area doesn’t hurt nearly as badly as a tattoo on the forearm or the ribs.” Sawyer talked away, describing what parts hurt the worst, and which were pretty easy. Rebecca half listened, but the vibrations and pain in her ribs almost made her want to pass out.
As Sawyer’s needle scrawled over the back of her ribcage, Rebecca took a gentle pull of air through her nose and slowly let it out. Holding her breath would be bad, and panting wouldn’t be any better since he was cutting right over her lungs. She worked to allow the pain to wash over her and then fade away into the experience.
