Page 8 of Saint
“Yeah, sure,” she said. “So, this is where you do your thing, huh?”
“It is. I work with celebrities, so I have to be separated from the crowd.” She faced me, and nervous energy rolled off her in waves. I grasped her hands. “There’s no need to be nervous. I’ll take care of you. You ready?”
She took in a deep breath and exhaled, then nodded. “I’m ready.”
I winked, then faced away from her. “Take your shirt off.”
I pulled out a pair of packaged gloves from the drawer where I kept all my supplies, including needles. I’d already set up the ink and stenciled the quote. All I had left to do was prep her skin. I faced her. Her eyes widened, and she still had her shirt on.
“Oya?”
“I’m so...sorry,” she said, fumbling over her words. “What did you say?”
I took a step towards her. "I said, take off your shirt." I tilted my head at the look of horror on her face. I grabbed her shoulders and moved my hands up and down the silk covering her arms. "Babe, I can't do a tattoo on your ribs unless you take your shirt off."
“I know it’s just...”
I stood in her space, but she didn’t seem bothered by the closeness, and neither was I.
“Now tell me what’s the problem.”
She hid behind her hands, covering her face. “It’s so embarrassing,” she groaned.
I pulled her hands from her face and grasped them. “I’ve got time.”
“You remember the celebration Raquel mentioned when we first came into the shop?” she asked, looking into my eyes.
“I remember you avoiding what she said.”
“You remember that, huh?” she asked, laughing. “Anyway, we were celebrating my divorce.”
“So, congratulations are in order?” I asked with a chuckle, but I was interested if she was torn up over it. I wasn’t into capitalizing on her heartbreak. But if there was a chance I could have her under me, I would take it.
“Yes, congratulations are definitely in order. It had been a long time coming. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.”
“You’d be amazed the stories and deep dark secrets I hear from my clients. Some treat me like their therapist or their priest.” I laughed, but I was serious. I’d been told so much shit over the years, especially when I was in prison, tattooing inmates. “But I don’t want to pressure you. I just want you to have the best experience.”
“You’re so sweet.”
“Well, that’s not a word, I’m used to a woman calling me, but from you, I’ll take it.” I winked. “So, what’s got you so shy?”
She took a deep breath and released it. “I froze because no other man has seen me without my clothing since my ex-husband. And as you can see, I’m not young anymore. Things aren’t how they used to be.”
“You’re beyond gorgeous, Oya, regardless of your age. And if I’m being honest, I want to see you. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll shut my eyes and turn my back. Whatever you need me to do.”
“You want to see me?” she asked surprised.
“Who the fuck wouldn’t?” I asked standing in front of her. I turned her towards the mirror hanging on the wall as I stood behind her with my hands resting on her shoulders. “This hair.” I twirled a loc around my finger. “Your skin.” I ran my finger down her jawline. “You are the most attractive woman, I’ve ever seen.”
She stared at me in the mirror like she couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. It was the truth. Oya was a woman who stood out above everyone else. She was indescribable. She was fucking chef’s kiss exquisite.
“Thank you, Saint.”
I shrugged. “I’m only speaking the truth.”
She kept her eyes trained on me as she slowly started to unbutton the silk blouse she wore after taking a deep breath and letting my words sink in. My cock hardened. There was no fucking way she couldn’t feel me against her ass, but she kept her eyes trained on me. Fuck, I was salivating just waiting, watching this woman undress for me.
If not for me, I could pretend it was just for me.
