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But it was the same with her as it was with everyone else: Every person had a different pain threshold. There were men out there who longed for the end after an hour because the pain was unbearable for them. But there were also women who went through an eight-hour session without thinking for a second about doing it in two parts.
"Maybe Pazzo should try harder to make you feel at least a little pain," I replied, one eyebrow raised.
Gia laughed. "I can imagine how much you'd like that."
"It would have a certain appeal," I replied.
"Well, I'm afraid it's too late for that," Pazzo intervened again. He was putting his machine away now. "I'm done. With that size of tattoo, it never takes very long."
Gia seemed pleased with herself, but kept her eyes on me.
"You can cover the tattoo. She can look at it later," I said to Pazzo, looking only at Gia. Promising.
"You're putting me on the spot," she stated, and I shrugged.
"I will not look at it any sooner either."
"All right," she said, lifting her arm once the tattoo was hidden under a plastic sheet and medical adhesive bandage. Nothing was visible.
"It's your turn. Make yourself comfortable while Pazzo and I go discuss your motif," Gia said, hopping down from the couch only to disappear into the next room with the tattoo artist in tow and wearing a devilish grin.
I was pretty sure she would take advantage of that privilege as much as she could. Whether it was the motif or the location, I would end up wearing something under my skin that reminded me of her and that evening.
How good that memory was would only become clear in the future.
For the moment, I concentrated on the pleasant feeling that spread through my limbs. Anticipation, coupled with the knowledge that I was about to suffer a little, made me bob my foot.
The wait already felt like pure torture, I was sure it wouldn't get any better once it started.
Shortly after, Gia returned from the next room and rubbed her hands together in an excited gesture. "This is going to be fantastic."
"As long as it's not a pink piggy in a tutu," I grumbled, putting an arm over my eyes so the glare of the overhead light wouldn't blind me.
I felt a slight puff of air before Gia's lips touched my ear. "If you hate me afterwards, I'll be happy to cut it out for you with a knife," she murmured, a lovely undertone in her voice.
Instantly, a pleasant shiver shot up my spine. Goosebumps formed on my arms and I was tempted to turn around in a lightning-like movement, grab her by the neck and pull her to me on the bench so that she could sit astride me and continue speaking.
But before I could act in such a way, I heard the steps of the tattoo artist and changed my mind. First the compulsory part then the pleasure.
"I'm all ready," he informed me.
"I was ready three hours ago," I returned. "What body part do you need? "
He laughed. "Your girl came up with something special."
I didn't even get to react to this, because Gia had put her hands on my head at the same moment and pulled it back, so that my neck was fully exposed.
She looked down at me from above, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Did she expect me to back down?
I grinned at her, pressed my head against her hip and crossed my arms. "I'm ready. But you owe me for this."
"Whatever you want, mafia prince," she replied, a cheeky undertone in her voice.
While we had been having this exchange of blows, Pazzo had already made sure that everything was ready for the next session.
The hum of the tattoo machine filled the room again and I prepared myself to feel the needle. Because I would, there was no doubt about it.
He did not give me another warning as he started with the previously applied design.
