I watched Beth flinch when the gun first hit her back, but that was it. She remained still, laughing and joking, flipping through her phone.
It can't be that painful then. She's handling it well.
The small tattoo on her lower spine took an hour and half. When Kash laid down the final line, he pulled his gloves off, tossing them into the bin.
“Am I done?” Beth asked, trying to look back over her shoulder.
“You sure are, go check it out.”
Jumping from the chair, she stretched her hips a little then darted over to the mirror. “Oh my God... It's beautiful!”
And she was right, it was amazing.
The Lily looked real, as if she had one taped to her back. My jaw dropped at the intense details of the petals, the way he drew in lighter streaks to make the curves flow off her skin. It was the most gorgeous flower I'd ever seen.
“Wow, Beth, that's incredible.” Stepping in closer, I followed the etched image with my eyes. It really was a piece of art, full of color and dimension, just like he had said. “Kash, that's gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it.”
“Just wait till you see yours. Hers is nothing compared to what I have for you.”
Holding my hands up, my palms floated in the air. “I don't want anything huge, something about the same size would be perfect.”
“It's about the same, a little bigger, but not by much. It'll be perfect, I made it for your body.” Thin lips curved over his jaw, eyes sparkling under hooded lids.
And my heart skipped a million beats, freezing inside my chest. My lungs tried desperately to force down air, but I couldn't breathe.
Every piece of my body had halted all movement, stuck in a motionless suspension. Swallowing the lump that formed in the back of my throat, I said, “Can I see it?”
Kash nodded, walking out of the room and disappearing into the hall.
I had no clue what he drew, or what he based his creation from. But after seeing what he created on Beth, my mind was rolladex of images.
The pictures flashed across my lids, whipping through my brain one after the other.
What could he have penciled for me? What did he read about me from barely a hello?
The patter of his feet echoed back towards the room, his foot breaking my sight as the rest of him came into view.
And for a brief second I forgot Beth was even there. His face was held firm on mine, eyes locked against my figure.
The room seemed to shrink, walls folding in on me as his eyes ate up my body.
Oh shit. Stop, Lo, just stop.
Why is he having this effect on me?
“Hope you like it.” His hand held up the same transparent paper as Beth's, but the image was incredible.
It was a tree, roots sprawled out across the bottom, the trunk twisting and turning up to a full display of blooming flowers.
“That's amazing, what type of tree is it?”
“It's a cherry blossom tree. And it's going to fit perfect on your thigh.”
“My thigh?” Looking down at the thick stump of my body, my brows lifted, forcing lines across my forehead. “Can't I have it on my back?”
“I made this for your thigh, you won't be able to see it everyday if it's on your back. Trust me, your thigh is the perfect place.”
Prickles broke across my neck, riding my spine and coalescing in the heat growing below. My warming center was turning sticky, glazing my inner thighs with need.
Kash had made that for me, made it to fit my body.
He was about to touch my thigh, his fingers would stroke my tender skin.
And every thought I had turned from innocent, into a dark, dirty wet dream.
Yes, touch me please.
Touch me however you'd like.
Chapter Four
Kash
I couldn't remember that last time I was that excited to give a tattoo. And that's probably because it never happened.
My job was my world, this shop was my life blood. Having this place had been a dream I never imagined would manifest into reality.
And I could never thank my grandmother enough. She was amazing, the only woman to ever really support anything and everything I ever did in my life.
She was even there during a time when everyone else had abandoned me. It was that time I regretted the most. I was a disappointment.
When she passed away, I was devastated. A blackened feeling had been cast on my life, pulling me under.
I could've saved her. Had I not been...
It doesn't matter now.
But from that came a great opportunity. She had left me a small fortune, one I was able to turn into a much larger bank roll.
I took my life back, grounded myself, kicked the bottle away and turned the thousands of dollars into millions, then into billions.
Something inside me had been triggered, a need that grew from what it saw, to taking what it wanted.
If I saw it, if I liked it, then I made it mine. It was that simple.
'No,' wasn't in my vocabulary.
And with that mindset, my tattoo parlor, 'INK,' was born. I kept the name simple, and my workload stocked.
But tonight, I watched a woman walk into my shop, and I didn't want to watch her walk out. I didn't know why, I didn't care why.
Comfort coated me with the idea she would forever be stained by my hand, but in the same thought, that also wasn't enough.
I wanted more, I wanted to know her, feel her, breathe her.
There was something about Willow that made my stomach turn into hot soup, head fogged up and drizzled with her image.
And I wanted the chance to figure out why.
The feelings riding my muscles like a freight train were so new and foreign. They were real feelings, true bold, gut-hitting feelings.
It wasn't right, this was what I felt from a new idea, a new creation. Not from a woman, not from the soft and delicate frame that was waiting for my touch.
I cursed the feeling, hating it and letting it consume me all at the same time.
How dare she step through my door and make my head wrap around her. How dare she take my attention and draw it to only her.
Fuck.
“Alright, the throne is yours, Princess.” Picking through the colors of ink, I pulled down over a dozen I was going to work with.
She was a masterpiece all on her own, and my tattoo had to match the beauty that radiated from her naturally.
I was going to give her something that would turn her body into a work of art, and claim her as mine in the same breath.
I'd never wanted one single person so badly in my entire life. I didn't know her, I knew nothing about her. But Willow had drowned my brain, smothered my thoughts in less time than it took to draw her tattoo.
She made me question all the ideals I'd come to revolve my world around. Control had become my muscle, force had been met with words.
And power was what my world ran on.
She was going to leave here carrying my mark, my touch, my permanent place on her body. A spot I carved out for me, one that ran deeper than the surface.
My calling card would forever be embedded into her flesh. Layer after layer of my hand would take its place under her skin.
“What thigh are you thinking?” She asked, letting herself fall into the thick leather seat.
Her warmth brushed my face in a delicate breeze. My cock jumped, head raveling up into naughty thoughts about what I could do to her.
What I would do to her, if she'd let me.