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She jumps, startled.
Coby flicks his gaze to me, relief coloring his expression.
"Sweet baby Jesus!" The pretty little blonde places a hand over her heart, blowing out a disapproving breath. "You scared the daylights out of me."
My gaze flits across her heart-shaped face, my stomach floating and then sinking and then floating again, as if I just jumped from a fucking plane. Thick black lashes frame the biggest blue eyes I've ever seen in my life. And don't even get me started on those plump lips. I want them wrapped around my cock.Now.
"What the fuck are you drawing for her?" I growl at Coby, my eyes still locked on her face.
"Hell if I know," he says. "Some blue grinch that's part of the kangaroo jungle mafia."
She exhales an exasperated sigh. "They aren't grinches. They onlylooklike grinches in the original animated movie, but they're monkeys. They're called the Wickersham Brothers."
"The original animated…?" My brows pull down, a frown overtaking my face. "Are you talking aboutHorton Hears a Who?"
"Yes!" she cries, throwing up her hands.
Coby looks at me, still confused as fuck.
"It's a Dr. Seuss book. They animated it back when they first animatedThe Grinch," I explain. "She's asking you to draw the three monkey brothers who help rope and cage Horton."
"Yeah, I still don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
"It's a classic." She sniffs, clearly unimpressed.
It is a classic.
"I'll take it," I tell Coby, though it isn't really a suggestion. I haven't seen the fucking movie since I was a kid, but I'm drawing this shit for her. Mostly because she has my dick hard as a rock. But also because I'm curious as a motherfucker why she wants the Wickersham Brothers tattooed on her.
I don't usually ask. Tattoos are personal, and clients share what they want to share when they're ready to share it. But I have every intention of finding out why she wants the Jungle Mafia tattooed on her gorgeous body. Unless it's hiding under that tiny dress, she doesn't have any other ink.
"Thanks," Coby says, immediately stepping back. He shoots me a look over her head as if to ask what's up, but I ignore him and the look. Quite frankly, I don't know how to answer it.
There's just something about this girl. I don't want Coby inking her. I don't want his hands on her. I don't want them alone in his booth. I just fucking don't.
He shrugs and steps away from the counter, leaving me alone with her.
"What's your name, beautiful?"
"Skye Matheson," she says sweetly. "Who are you?"
"Slade Stark."
Her eyes grow wide. "You own the shop."
"I do."
"You do tattoos, too?"
"Yep." I grab her info from the counter. "And it looks like I'm doing yours today, Who."
"Who?" Her brows furrow, and then understanding dawns, and she laughs. "Are you calling me short?"
"What does the book say?" I ask, leading her toward my booth.
"About what?"
"Little people."
