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“The tattoo. Blaze.” With a gloved hand, he runs his fingers over the spot. “A long, lean stem should take care of this. Got any particular one in mind?” When I don’t answer, his eyes flicker up at mine. “On the iPad.”
“The iPad.” My voice echoes in my ears. “Oh, yeah. Let me look.” My shaking fingers scroll through the images Holt’s pulled up for our session. There are so many beautiful ones. Any of them would be an upgrade from what I have now.
I gasp when my eyes land on a violet-hued honeysuckle stem. “Oh, this one’s gorgeous.” I turn the iPad around and catch Holt once again staring at me. His gaze passes to the screen, and a smile spreads across his full lips. “Honeysuckles are one of my favorite flowers to tattoo.”
“No shit?” It comes out so fast I can’t stop it.
“No shit.” He echoes, and I laugh. Holt rolls his chair back and pulls a pink Sharpie from his desk and uncaps it. “I have a pretty good idea which direction to go with this.” His hand moves toward my inner thigh, and I instinctively pull back.
“Don’t you have to sketch something out first?” As drunk as I was that night, I still remember that’s how they did the one already living on my thigh.
His eyes narrow. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“Right on my skin?” My voice raises, causing Holt to smile once again.
“That’s how I do it, Sienna.”Growl.“Is that okay with you?”
“Sure.” I wiggle in my seat. This is it. “Who am I to keep an artist from his process?” I sit back and will myself to relax, spreading my thighs wide so Holt can access his canvas.
ChapterThree
Holt
Once I start a tattoo,I’m completely in the zone. With Sienna’s smooth, fair skin, she’s an ideal canvas for this type of ink. She barely moves at all, though every once in a while her leg twitches when I hit a tender spot. I’m always a perfectionist when it comes to my work, but with Sienna, this piece has to be damn near perfect.
“Ah.” She sucks in air through gritted teeth.
I sit upright, taking the opportunity to appreciate her gorgeous features. “Need to take a break?”
“No.” Her fingers grip the vinyl chair tight enough that there may be claw marks left in her absence. “I just want to power through.” I nod and fire up my machine again. “Wait…” Her hand flies out, stopping me before I can make contact with her skin. “How much longer?”
“An hour? Maybe two.” Two lines form between her eyebrows. I usually don’t mind when people are having a rough time. Pain is part of the process, but with Sienna, I just want her to feel good. “You're going to be okay.”
“Yeah.” Her fiery curls bounce when she nods. “I think.”
“It’s okay to tap out if it gets to be too much.”
Sienna leans forward, providing me with a stellar view of her soft, billowing cleavage. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Dear Lord, The words turn me on more than I could’ve imagined. “All right then. Here we go.”
The machine buzzes, vibrating between my fingers as I press the thin needle to the soft flesh of her inner thigh. It’s not lost on me that her legs are spread wide, but with my head in the game, the thoughts of what I’d like to do to her ebb and flow with my desire to get this tattoo perfect. Later, I’ll think about what I’d do to her if I didn’t have this tattoo machine between my fingers.
I don’t know how long we go, but a kink in my back shouts at me by the time I’ve finished the last bits of color shading. I let out a sigh and sit up, a smile spreading across my lips. “Take a look before I bandage you up.” I help Sienna off the chair. She winces, then waddles over to the full-length mirror.
“Wow.” She twists her knee to the side, craning for a better view. “I can’t even believe…” A long exhale escapes her full lips.
“It was a little tricky up top, but I think the petals really mask the…” The words die in the air at the sight of Sienna’s damp cheeks. I take a step toward her, hoping to God she doesn’t completely hate it.
“It’s over.” She chokes out a little sob, then laughs through her tears.
“So you like it?” My ego hangs in the balance. After tattooing professionally for the last twelve years, I’ve never needed more validation than I do right now. Disappointing Sienna would be the death of me.
She turns away from the mirror and clasps her hands in front of her chest. “I love it.” She sniffles, and my heart melts. “I fucking love it, Holt.”
I let out an internal sigh of relief. Of course, she loves it. I’m good at what I do, and there’s no way I would fuck up on skin that soft and delicate. My tension eases as she studies her new ink like a little kid with a new Christmas gift.
Sienna goes to the bathroom to change as I clean my station. She’s my last tattoo of the day, and dammit, if I don’t want to ask her out for a drink or something, but that might be weird. I just caressed her inner thigh for the last two and a half hours. We barely spoke. She’s an enigma to me. I’m so curious about her, desperate to know more. I can’t let her just walk out of here, not knowing whether or not I’ll see her again.
