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“Grim,” I say, using her dad’s nickname to introduce her rather than Kate or Princess.
“Have you come for a tattoo?” Trent asks her.
“No, I have,” I reply.
“You have?” Kate asks, staring at me.
“Yeah. Thought I could do with another.”
“I’m not being funny, but have you seen you? Aside from your face there’s no free space left,” she points out.
I grin, thinking about my dick that I’m saving just for her pussy to tattoo its first orgasm all over its length. “Believe me, there’s room for another tattoo.”
Casper laughs, his eyes flicking to my crotch, the fucking flirtatious bastard.
“Who do you want to do the honours?” Trent asks, grinning.
“I’m going to do it myself. You two get off home to your woman, yeah?”
“So now you’re a tattoo artist?” Kate asks, pulling a face.
“He happens to be one of the best. Did a few of my pieces,” Casper explains, pointing to a beautiful depiction of a wolf howling against a mountainous backdrop that’s wrapped around his forearm.
Kate’s mouth drops open in shock. “Wait.Youdid that?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” I reply, shrugging off my coat and hanging it over the back of a chair. “I’m full of hidden talents.”
“Yeah, I’m just realising that,” she mumbles, causing my lips to quirk up in a smile as I remember how she melted against me whilst I massaged her head and shoulders back at Tales.
“Well, we’ll head off then,” Trent says, interrupting my thoughts.
“I’ll shut up shop,” I say, fist-bumping them both before they give Kate a warm smile and head out. Striding over to the door, I lock it and turn the sign to closed. “Shall we?” I say, pointing to a door on the left side of the shop where our clients are tattooed in the privacy of a windowless room.
“Sure, why not?”
“Make yourself comfortable,” I say, shutting the door behind me.
Kate sits down on a chair in the corner of the room as I pick up a tattoo gun, some ink, and a fresh needle, laying them out on a metal table beside the recliner.
“You’re not fucking about, are you?” she asks, watching me as I move about the room, setting everything up.
“Nope. In my former life I was trained as a tattoo artist. My mum always said to have a backup profession just in case what I really wanted to do didn’t work out. I followed her advice.”
“So your backup profession to being an enforcer was this?”
“No, my backup profession to being aprofessional boxerwas this,” I reply, fixing the needle into the tattoo gun. “I kinda fell into enforcement.”
“You wanted to be a professional boxer?”
“Yeah. Things didn’t work out as planned.” I give her a sheepish smile that I shut down when she frowns. “Come here, Princess.”
“Why?”
“Because I need your hand.”
“My hand? You aren’t suggesting that I tattoo you, right?”
I laugh “No, I don’t have a death wish.”
