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So far, it looked like a pink blob, but I knew that as I added details and shadow, the shape of a nipple would emerge, and if I did my job right, it would look three-dimensional.
I’d borrowed one of Jackson’s nude photography books and used a close-up photograph of a nipple to guide me. He was the one with realistic life drawing experience, not me, but I wanted to see if I could do this myself.
It felt important.
Plus, if all three of us could create nipple tattoos, we would be able to get through three times as many clients as Jackson could alone.
“What are you doing?” Adrian asked from the door to the kitchen. He’d been in the gym, by the look of him: he was wearing shorts and a singlet and his skin shone with sweat.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just working on an idea.”
I wanted him to go upstairs, but he walked further into the room so he could see what I was working on and draped his towel around his shoulders.
“A nipple?” he asked.
“Maybe you should shower,” I said as he came close enough for me to smell his sweat.
Adrian wasn’t going to be put off his line of questioning that easily.
“You know what’d be cool?” he asked. “Covering someone’s entire body with nipples.”
His presence was distracting, and I put down the pen.
“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”
“Oh, yeah?” He picked up the book and flicked through it. “That’s what I’d like to do. It’d be a real statement piece, y’know?”
“Where would you put them?” I asked, looking over the tattoos he already had. Between the mosaic of images on his chest and arms, and the dragon on his back, there wasn’t much space left. “You’d have one there,” I pointed to a lightly covered spot on his arm, which was part of a lion’s body, “and nothing else.”
“Maybe not for me, then,” Adrian said. “So, why are you tattooing a nipple?”
I rotated the fake skin, looking at the tattoo from different angles. If I added more white, the light pink spots on the areola would look like real bumps.
“Just to see if I can,” I said, not wanting to ruin the surprise. Adrian looked like he knew I was planning something, but finally accepted this answer.
“Well, don’t work all night,” he said, and left to go upstairs.
I kept working, adding those lighter spots, and it made a big difference. A few extra curves of shadow would make the nipple almost impossible to distinguish from a real one, I decided, and I was right.
It was finished. I sat back and admired my work with a critical eye. It wasn’t perfect, but it also wasn’t bad for a first attempt, and if I practiced a few more times, I knew from experience that my skills would improve.
And when they did, Emma would love it.
I picked up another piece of fake skin and got back to work, while trying not to think about her. Despite my best efforts to get her out of my head, I couldn’t. That woman wasAttractivewith a capital A.
I didn’t know whether I was doing the right thing by pushing her away from me, but I knew within my heart that I couldn’t take advantage of her while she was feeling vulnerable. I’d seen the tears in her eyes, I’d heard the cracks in her voice, and I knew she was hurting.
God, I wanted to fuck her. Somehow, knowing that I was the only man in the building who hadn’t experienced it yet drove me crazy. I could smell her everywhere, and the time we’d spent together had made me more aware of how intoxicating her presence was.
All I wanted to do was scoop her up in my arms and make love to her, but this wasn’t the time. Right now, she needed to be protected, and I needed to do everything I could to make life easier for her. Even if that meant denying myself what I truly craved.
My second nipple was a better shape than the first one. I’d made it bigger and with a slight teardrop shape instead of an exact circle, so it looked more like a woman’s than a man’s. I wished I could ask Emma to hold it over her own breast so I could see how it looked, but that woulddefinitelybe overstepping the boundaries of our arrangement, so I had to rely on my memory instead.
And Adrian’s, considering he came back into the studio, freshly showered and wearing clean clothes.
“What do you think?” I asked, holding it against my shirt and thrusting my pecs out.
“I think we should do something nice for Emma,” he said. “Take her out for dinner or something. She’s moping around upstairs looking pretty miserable.”
