Page 53 of Painless
"Of course he did," I muttered. "But no, you don't have to clean for me."
"I'm just excited to get started," she laughed lightly. "I'll do it right, I promise. I know a thing or two about sanitizing."
I stood frozen, unsure how to feel about her cleaning my tattoo area. Mostly, I was floored at the fact that she was offering to help.
"Um, if you really want to—"
"I'm on it."
She went straight to my desk and pulled the spray bottle of bleach solution out from a drawer. With a few quick sprays onto a paper towel, she proceeded to wipe down the chair she would be sitting in. Before she had a chance to catch me staring, I abruptly turned and headed into the kitchen to start the coffee.
On my way back, I made sure to grab a clean towel from the guest bathroom for her armrest.
"What do you think?" She stepped back, and held her hand out to my spotless tattooing station.
"Looks great. Thank you."
As we sat down and I began prepping my tattoo gun and ink, I realized with the exception of Freyja, we were truly alone. While in her medic’s office, I was forced to think of her in a professional capacity. But now it was just the two of us in my house, and I would have to touch her.
We hadn't been truly alone like this sincethatday.
"Where's Gunner today?" I hoped my tone was casual.
"Off on a supply run." I tried not to watch as she piled her hair into a topknot to keep it out of the way. "Is that okay?"
The question caught me off-guard. Her expression was concerned when I glanced up at her.
"That he's off getting supplies? Um, yes. I'm not sure I follow."
She smiled a bit sheepishly, lowering her gaze to her lap. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable by coming here alone."
"You don't," I blurted out before I could think.
Her eyes lifted back to me, lit up with surprise. "Really?"
I nodded, heat filling my face before I turned back to my tattooing supplies. "You never have, to be honest."
"So we're okay, then?" she asked hesitantly. "To be unchaperoned, I guess," she added with a nervous laugh.
Her question bewildered me. No one had ever been so concerned withmycomfort before. What was this feeling? She had a way of bringing up all kinds of sensations I never felt in my body before. I couldn’t name what was swirling in my chest right then, but I found myself trying to hide a smile.
"I'm fine with it, as long as you are."
"Good," she beamed, looking genuinely happy. I couldn't completely understand why, but I liked seeing her happy, regardless.
I took a minute to adjust the voltage through my power supply, averting my eyes when she removed her top layer shirt to give me access to her back.
"How does it look?" She spun around in the chair to face away, wearing the open back top she had on last time. "It itched like hell, but I tried my best not to scratch it."
I glanced up. "Looks good." I swallowed, clenching my fist on my thigh. "Really good, actually. You took good care of it while it healed."
"Thanks." She tossed me a smile over her shoulder. "I think having a good artist helped."
Mariposa's back was smaller and leaner than most clients I'd worked on before, and I had to adjust the design as such. The Demon flowed surprisingly well over the contours of her body, accentuating her feminine curves, while also sending a clear sign to outsiders who she belonged to.
Fuck, I was staring again.
"Ready?" I asked when there was nothing left to stall me.
