What in the hell had ever made her think she could do this?
“Have you ever had anyone start to get the tattoo, freak out and not be able to finish?”
“Don’t worry about that. Everyone’s experience is unique, and yours is the only one that matters.”
Great. A whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it even though he had yet to lay the first hand on her.
She must have caught his attention. “Breathe,” he said calmly, and only then did she realize she wasn’t doing so. “Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” She filled her lungs to capacity and exhaled as he instructed, but she was still too frightened to open her eyes and see how close she was to feeling that needle in her skin. “Keep it up. You’re gonna be fine.”
“I’m glad you’re so sure of that.”
“How old are you today, sunshine?”
She smiled, and suddenly wanted to cry. Yeah, that would be utterly cool of her. But he was trying to put her at ease, and maybe she was a fool of the worst sort, but it made her feel cherished somehow. “Twenty-three.”
Daring a glance at his profile through her lashes, she saw one corner of his mouth tug up. “Twenty-three,” he echoed wistfully. “That was a good year.”
“Oh, yeah? What was so good about it?”
He paused before answering. “Hell, I couldn’t really tell you. Just the mere fact that I was younger than I am now, I guess.”
“You talk like twenty-seven is old.”
“Twenty-eight. My birthday was in January.”
“Oh, right. I haven’t seen you in so long. Happy belated birthday, since I didn’t get to tell you then.” She studied him while she had the opportunity. He’d slapped a black baseball cap on his head and twisted it around backwards to keep his hair out of his eyes. Dressed all in black from head to toe now, down to the gloves he wore, he looked ready to pull off a burglary later tonight.
His olive skin was maddeningly without blemish. Exquisite lips, full and defined, were framed by a goatee that looked so sleek and soft… How would it feel against her skin if he ever kissed her? Rough or silken? Would it tickle or scratch? She would never find out, but a girl could dream.
Yeah, a dream some other lucky wench would probably experience for real tonight. What the hell was an apadra-whatever, anyway? She’d have to hit Google as soon as she got home just to figure out what he might have going on down there. She had a feeling he’d only been teasing about the picture, but with the piercing? She would bet good money he had it.
“Thanks.” He smiled at her. There was a hint of wickedness behind it, a wickedness she’d love to see fully unleashed. On her.
Maybe it had been a mistake coming here. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her birthday depressed and pining over something she didn’t need and would never have. For so long, Brian had been labeled Michelle’s Boyfriend, pretty to look at, but nothing else. She’d been unprepared for the intensified effect he would have on her now that he’d shaken off that relationship.
“Are you ready to do this?” he asked.
One more deep breath… “Yes.” She closed her eyes again, unwilling to give him any more reason to think she was a total wimp.
“Get through the first few minutes, then your endorphins will kick in and give you a thrill ride.”
“Riiight.”
His chuckle turned into an outright laugh when the first touch of his gloved fingers on her lower tummy nearly jolted her off the table. So much for not appearing wimpy. “Candace, you can’t do that when the needle hits,” he scolded.
“Darn it,” she grumbled, opening her eyes and drawing another breath. “Okay. Just do it. I’m ready. Oh, God.”
“Here we go.”
She forced her gaze downward, when it suddenly seemed far more ominous to not see what was going on down there. Even more striking than the sight of the needle hovering over her skin was Brian’s presence there, leaning so close to that part of her. She could smell the mint of his gum. Her heart was racing like a frightened rabbit fleeing a predator.
With a firm touch he pulled her skin gently taut, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip as the very tip of the needle nudged her. She could imagine those fingers, so close to the lacy edge of her panties, slipping lower to do far more pleasurable things… his touch would be at once gentle and confident in his abilities, as it was now.
Her eyes closed again. She bet he would know just how to stroke her, just how much pressure to exert to leave her moaning and gasping for more…
“How does that feel?”
“Hmmm?” she asked dreamily. Did he even have to ask? It would feel magnificent.
“Not so bad, is it?”
Oh, but she wanted it to be bad, bad in the very best way. Just as the outrageous thought flashed through her mind, she realized that the needle tip had been dragging through her skin for the past few seconds and she’d hardly noticed. “Um…that’s it?”
“That’s it. All that freaking out for nothing.”
The buzzing went on, the needle leaving a sting in its wake. He paused often to wipe excess ink off her skin with a towel, and she found that the hardest part was lying still under his hands. She wanted to writhe and arch against them. Force them lower. Being trapped and helpless under his control was turning something on inside her, a burning need that had her stomach flipping slow somersaults. An aching throb built between her thighs, inches away from where his left hand rested on her skin.
She licked her lips, watching his intense expression, his unrelenting focus, and wondered what he would think if he knew what was going on in her head, her body. What he was making her feel.
When the pleasure-tempered pain of the needle caused her to break out in a fine sheen of sweat, she was wholly grateful they kept it rather cool in here. She began to watch the slow, easy rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. Her own rhythm was growing far too ragged and needy, threatening to dissolve into full-on panting.
Think about that Probability and Statistics final you have coming up. That should do it.
“Still with me?” he asked.
Oh, didn’t he see what he was doing to her? She glanced down before answering. Roughly half the outline was done. Still a while to go. Thank goodness. She wasn’t ready for this to be over yet, because she couldn’t imagine ever finding this agonized bliss again. Unless she came back to him for more. If she did that, she’d end up covered in ink from head to toe.
“Um, I think so.” And please don’t notice how my voice is quivering.
No such luck. For the first time since he started, he drew away and faced her fully. She was certain her cheeks were flushed and her forehead was glistening. “Do you need anything? A drink?” he asked.
That sounded heavenly, but she was probably already making him late for whatever he was doing later. On the other hand, if she was keeping him from some female undeserving of his attentions, that was okay by her. “I’m fine.”
“We’ll keep going, then. It’s gonna look tight, girl.”
“Okay.” She supposed that was a good thing.
He gave a single nod and got back to work. “So what else have you done for your birthday?”
Now she was actually going to have to carry on a normal conversation with him when she was on the verge of orgasm. Never in her life had she imagined she would ever pray not to have one. But how embarrassing would that be?
Her earlier question rephrased in her mind. She shouldn’t have asked him whether anyone had ever freaked out and been unable to finish. She should’ve inquired about how many of them lost control and begged him to take them right here. “N-not much. Macy and I have been hanging out for most of the day.”
“That’s it?”
She flinched as he passed over a particularly sensitive spot, clenching her teeth when he wiped it with the towel. It was growing more and more difficult to resist rubbing her thighs together. “Pretty much.”
“I figured some lucky guy would be in the picture by now.”
Her short bark of laughter was immediately regrettable, and this time, her wince had nothing to do with the burning scrape of the needle tip. “No, no guys, lucky or otherwise. Oh, God, that’s starting to get to me.”
“The needle, or the lack of guys?”
Both. “I meant the needle.”
“You’re doing great.”
“Where are you going later?” she blurted, and was momentarily aghast at her impulsiveness. Chalk it up to desperately needing a distraction from the towering need pulsing at her core.
“Family function. My brother’s birthday is next weekend, but we’re all getting together tonight. I don’t know why now and not next weekend.” He shrugged. “I was just informed my presence was required. Hey, did you hear I’m an uncle now?”
Ah, no date. So much sweet relief swooped through her that she momentarily forgot everything else…until she realized that didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing someone already. What if he had a girlfriend? “Yes, I’d heard. Congratulations. I bet he’s so cute. You must be excited.”
“It’s pretty cool.”
“No wonder you’re…um, dressed up a bit. Or down. Or whatever.” It was hard to resist the urge to touch his eyebrow, where the two rings usually resided. Heck, who was she kidding. It was hard to resist grabbing him and pulling him on top of her.
Especially when he grinned like he did then. “My mom will be there, and my body art drives her nuts.”
Candace could sympathize, but it drove her nuts in an entirely different way.
“I try to accommodate her,” he went on. “Sometimes. Most days I just don’t give a damn.”
“How long has it taken you to get all your tattoos?”
“I started when I was eighteen. It’s been a couple of years since I got a new one, and to tell you the truth, I think I’m done. And I never was about the really extreme shit. I’m actually pretty f**king tame, by some standards.” He shook his head, his gaze still intent upon his work.
She repressed a sigh. Nothing about him was tame, at least, not to her. She’d been brought up in such strict surroundings and her friends monitored so carefully, she hadn’t been around people like him growing up. Homeschooling had kept her sheltered from the world most of her life. It wasn’t that her parents were religious freaks or anything like that, they just thought most things were…beneath them.
College, needless to say, had been an utter, almost incapacitating shock. It had taken some begging, fast talking, and several tears to get her parents to allow her to attend the neighboring university. They had only given in on the condition that she live here in town under their watchful eye, and commute forty-five minutes every day, which was the only plus they could see in not sending her off somewhere smaller and way more prestigious. She’d accepted those terms grudgingly.
As much as the thought of having her own life away from here had appealed, in the end she’d balked, so she really had no one to blame but herself that she was twenty-three and still living a life dictated by her mom and dad.