Page 29 of Tempt Me

“That’s cool.” She shifts higher on the seat. “Have they been together since then?”

“More or less.” I arrange my instruments and supplies on the tray and hook my foot on the bottom shelf of my stool, dragging it over to the chair. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She nods as I hover over her.

“This might be cold.” I zip open the end of a sterile pad. The second I touch her, she gasps and shifts her hips away from me. Jesus. She’s so responsive. I groan but luckily manage to do it inside my head and not aloud. “I told you it would be cold.”

How the hell am I going to do this? She eases back into the chair. Rip it off like a Band-Aid. I slide on a pair of gloves, grab my favorite pen, and start outlining. “They were together after a few weeks. He had to convince her to give him a shot because she wouldn’t give him the time of day.”

Her jean shorts are open, exposing her pink underwear and the tiny piece of elastic that leads to her thigh and covered hip. See…. It’s no big deal. You’ve pierced a woman’s vulva six times in one sitting before. This is nothing.

“Really?” The surprise in her voice ruins my concentration, drawing my attention to her enormous green eyes.

What would she do if I told her I’d been in love with her since that day at the park? Laugh? Cry? Scream?

I clear my throat. “She wouldn’t date a client.”

The silence in the room is deafening if you don’t count my heartbeat, which is thudding in my ears.

“Do you?”

“No. I don’t date clients.” I don’t date anyone.

“I see.” She smiles weakly, grabs the edge of her underwear, and tugs them farther down so I can keep working on the drawing. “Let’s do this.”

“Right.” For several minutes, we’re silent as I etch out the design. I’ve used stencils before, but I prefer to work by hand. I ease back into the chair. It’s a good piece. It’ll look beautiful on her, but I don’t want her to do anything she’ll regret. I set the pen down on my table. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Her jaw is tight as she stares up at the ceiling. I should put one of those kitten or puppy pictures above my chair like they do in the doctor’s offices.

I steel my nerves and grab the gun. Stop shaking. One second. Two. Three. By the time I get to ten, I’m no longer shaking like I’m an 80-year-old man.

As I work, I block out her scent and focus solely on the artwork. With each line I draw, the canvas comes to life. First, the black of the outline. The curves of the petals accentuate the solid lines of the stems.

It’s time to add the colors. The blues, purples, yellows, and then the greens of the stems and leaves. The colors are stunning on her skin. The detail of the piece fills in stroke by stroke until my hand cramps, and I wipe away the last remnants of blood.

It’s perfect. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything this intricate before in my life. I lean back in my chair, drop the gun on the table, and drag my hand through my hair as the room returns to focus. What time is it? 8 o’clock. Shit.

She leans up, and her mouth drops open. The gasp catches in her throat. “It’s beautiful.” She curls upright to get a better look. “Dominic….” She stares at me in awe. “That’s amazing.You’re amazing. Wow. I….” She snaps her mouth shut as she fumbles for words. My hands shake as she looks at me with eyes that shine. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Th–”

“You should put your work into a national contest.” She talks over me, not letting me get a word in. “One of those places that showcases your artwork. Or even get a showing somewhere like New York, or Boston, or wherever they do that kind of stuff.” She waves her hands in the air. “I don’t know where they do those types of things, but you’re that good. Better than good.”

With each sentence, my heart grows bigger with pride and longing. I want to draw her to me and hold her. Touch her. Show her that she’s the reason I’m this good. To prove I’m worthy of her. But I’m her tattoo artist, not her lover.

“Thank you. I appreciate the compliment.” I stand and straighten my supplies. “Let me clean up everything and put some antibacterial ointment on your tattoo. You’ll want to keep it covered for a few hours before cleaning the area.”

“Yes, give me the cleaning instructions so I can get out of here.” She leans back. “I didn’t realize it was this late, and I’ve got somewhere I need to be tonight.”

“Where?” Son of a bitch. If Xavier sees this. Or that quarterback, dude. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, now, is it?” Her jaw tightens as she closes her eyes.

No, no, it’s not. I bandage her skin, recite the instructions in a robotic manner that sounds foreign to my ears, and take her money. A business transaction. That’s all this was.

Chapter Fifteen

One Week Later

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