Page 82 of Set the Moment
“Do you know what you want to g—”
“Tramp stamp,” she says immediately, cutting me off as she turns to look up at me. Her hazel eyes are big and bright with amusement as I smile down at her.
The thought of Sienna having a tattoo above the swell of her ass does something to me. I shift in my spot in front of her as she keeps our eyes locked together before hers slowly roam down my body.
“Does that idea excite you, Jace?” she coos seductively, a hand on my chest. I cough, trying to reel myself in, but fucking hell this girl is mesmerizing.
“Yeah—”
“Can I help y'all with anything?” A deep, gruff voice pulls my attention from Sienna. A tall woman with tattoos for days, pink and purple split-dyed hair, and black lipstick stands before us, an amused smirk dazzling her face.
Sienna looks up at me as if I have all the answers to our problems, and I gulp, still thinking about our interaction as she grins at the woman.
“Jacey here is getting a tattoo.”
twenty-eight
Sienna
ThelookthatJaceEros Heart sends my way can be described as three things.
Confused as hell
Mortified as fuck
Acceptance
Somewhere in the mix of his confusion and mortification, Jace agreed to get a tattoo. I know that he has a few on his legs and one on his rib cage, but I didn’t think he’d actually agree to get a tattoo today. Hell,Ididn’t agree to get one. Which brings me to my next issue.
The sound of a buzzing asshole in the shape of a tattoo needle sends blood rushing to my ears as Bertha, the woman whoso graciouslychecked us in for our reservation that I hadno ideaabout, tests out her equipment.
Jace’s only two stipulations for getting a tattoo of his own was that I’d gotten one, too—that’s fine, it's on my list anyways. But the other was that I get something thathedesigned without seeing it beforehand.
“Do you trust me?”
“As far as I can throw you.”
I groan at the memory of his words from earlier, wishing I’d paid attention to the way he’d been so giddy and excited about what we're going to do today.
The first red flag should’ve been the chocolate chip pancakes! He was buttering me up, I just know it.
“Ready, doll? This shouldn’t hurt at all.” Bertha’s thick voice is full of lightness as her cold, gloved fingers prep the area just above my right ankle to be assaulted by a tattoo gun.
“As ready as I’ll ever—Ouch, that hurts, Bertha! Are you trying to chisel into my bone?” I wince, looking down at the smiling woman as she adjusts her seat.
“Hon’, I only pressed down a smidge on your ankle…there’s no ink on you.”
