“Dude, that’s fucking wicked.”
I lean over Remington’s shoulder as he reloads ink, looking at the shoulder piece he’s doing on the bearded man in leather—a skull with some badass shading and huge spiders crawling out of the eye sockets, the front legs and eyes of one peaking over the client’s shoulder from the front.
The skeletal hands are crossed under the head holding a pair of daggers. A black flag flies behind it, only half the club name and logo visible. Every detail is perfect down to the hair on the spider. It looks so real it’s scary.
A chill runs down my spine, imagining something that size crawling on me, and I’m not even afraid of them. “Am I allowed to talk to you now?” he asks, a little bite coming through his words. “Because if blades are going to go flying, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave my station. You’re dangerous, princess.”
A laugh slips out. Fucking princess . . . A princess would take one look at me and turn around, all judgy and shit.
I shove his shoulder at precisely the exact moment ‘moaner’ over there starts in Kross’s chair. It’s like fucking clockwork. If looks could kill she’d have been dead long ago. Every five minutes or so she starts again, sending out her mating call. The sad part is Kross isn’t even paying her a lick of attention. It’s obvious. Desperate whores make my blood boil.
I tousle his much shorter laid down mohawk. “I told you I was sorry like a thousand times, even though technically it wasn’t my fault. Be my friend,” I whine sarcastically. I sigh, playing the defeated girl. “Come on. This is me asking really nicely. I need session hours under my belt. I want to watch the good shit. Wesson is doing a fucking flower and Joey a butterfly. That’s like the fourth one this week. I just can’t. It’s so cliché. Plus, it’s an overload of estrogen over there. Way more than I can handle.”
“You really are a rare breed of female,” he says with a smile. He goes back to working on the skull, adding a little more evil to something that’s already scary as hell. “What about boss man?” He smirks. “He’s doing a pretty sick religious piece over there.”
The disgusted look is all over my face, I know. I can’t help it. That’s what happens when you mark a particular dick as yours. You become possessive over it. “Hell no. The first time I see her try to rub her nasty ass on him I will cut that bitch. Probably not good for business.” I put my hands together and bat my heavily mascara-coated eyelashes. “Please.”
“Let me pierce your nipples and we’ll call it even.”
That came out way too loud, making it obvious that it was intended to be heard. I clear my throat, caught off guard, my mouth running dry. “Uh . . . I mean . . . I’ve thought about it several times, but I always chicken out. I haven’t trusted anyone that much yet. It’s like entrusting someone with a knife and your dick for circumcision when you’re old enough to know that a blade is coming at something you hold dearly. It’s not to be taken lightly. You fuck that shit up, it’s permanent.”
He never looks up as the needle pulses against the skin. It’s a hypnotic thing to watch. “I would never fuck up something I love so much. Your nips would be in the best of care.”
“Keep talking and next time it’ll be a body part,” Kross’s voice booms across the room, causing us both to look up. He’s still hunched over, his glove-covered hands splayed over her hip bone, working on the bottom of the very large cross ending on her pelvis. Her shorts are pulled down so low you can tell she’s freshly shaven.
“See, princess? Dangerous. Boss man has his hooks in that sexy little body.”
The bitch under him pushes her shorts down another centimeter or two, a sound coming out of her mouth that doesn’t reflect pain or the words to form a sentence.
A jealous surge overcomes me, and I can feel my mouth losing control. The underlying motive may play a part in whatever is trying to plot in my head. “What’s the big deal, Kross? You just pierced a set this morning. It’s no different.”
“Part of the job.”
“If it’s part of the job, then I’m just a client.”
“No, you’re not. Drop it.”
“It’s my body.”
“We’ll discuss it later.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. It’s my decision.”
“I said no.”
“Why is this an issue? You look at tits, clits, and asses on the regular and I don’t freak the fuck out. If he’s seen one set he’s seen a hundred. It’s business, like you said. I’ve wanted them done for a while.”
He’s still tattooing like his responses are programmed instead of thought out. “I’m done with this conversation.”
Deep down I know I wouldn’t let anyone but Kross pierce them. It never even crossed my mind. I should shut the hell up, because his voice could pierce steel, but I’ve always been stubborn with a mouth that gets me in trouble. It’s who I am. There is no sense in changing now. Sometimes I just like to push him. It reminds me that he’s not a robot and this thing between us isn’t a dream. “Good. It’s happening.”
He looks at me, his expression scary as hell—eyes black, muscles tense, anger vibrating through every vein. I’m almost positive that’s the look a serial killer wears during a kill. He looks possessed. “Try.”
The finality of that one word slams into me, and my brain took the hint. She moans again, my aggravation spiraling out of control. “Bitch, would you shut the fuck up? He’s not interested in case you can’t tell. A whore usually knows her place, and it isn’t here.”
“Delta,” he snaps. Her mouth is gaping, his neck is straining. “Outside. Now.”
“Fuck this.”
I walk to the empty station and open the drawer, grabbing the pack of cigarettes I hide in there, before walking through the small break room and then shove open the back door, revealing the metal staircase leading to the employee parking lot.
I quickly descend, my back hitting the brick of the building as I light up. My head falls back as the smoke enters my lungs, releasing so much bad energy that my mind is finally working again. With every replay of what just happened, I’m reminded that he is technically my boss, despite the fact that we’re fucking. I’m not sure how that all escalated so quickly, but since the little dart throwing practice with knives occurred, the guys are totally different around me when Kross is in the office. I was one of them before. Now, interaction is too serious unless he’s gone. It sucks.
With each exhale I pull on the filter again, burning down the paper. Kross thinks I quit, but mostly I sneak them when he’s not in the studio. I’ve cut back but quitting completely isn’t possible having to deal with his damn mood swings. I just blew my secret to shit, though, and all that body spray and mouthwash was a wasted effort.
The door flies open. I don’t even look. I know it’s him by the lack of sound. Normal people make noise. Kross is like a ghost. It’s fucking creepy.
I drop the filter when he lines up in front of me, putting it out with my shoe as his eyes bore into mine. His palms go to the brick to each side of my head. I try to turn my head to blow out the smoke, but he grips my cheeks in his hand, holding me to him.
The smoke billows around his face instead. He doesn’t cough, he doesn’t look away, and he doesn’t stop breathing. He’s completely unfazed. “What the fuck was that? I just let a five-hundred-dollar tattoo walk out the door.”
“The bitch was trying her best to show you what she looks like when she comes. I just thought she should know promoting her services wasn’t appropriate in a tattoo shop.”
“You can’t talk to customers like that. I don’t care if she’s trying to shove her tits in my mouth. I know how to adjust. This is a fucking business. My business. And if I didn’t believe in word of mouth I wouldn’t have so much goddamn money. I don’t run a charity. Ink doesn’t leave my shop unpaid for, and I don’t lose money. You lost it, you pay it back. That’s the way this works.”
Anxiety builds inside. “Are you fucking serious? You just tried to tell me what to do with my own body in front of clients like you don’t see racks and pussy all the time. I was proving a point. How is that fair? What’s next, are you going to tell me I can’t pierce below the belt on males?”
“You’re damn right.”
My mouth falls. “That’s bullshit.”
“I think you’re forgetting this is my company. I can do whatever I want.”
My eyes sting with anger, moistening along the rims. “You’re an asshole. You talk about professionalism, but how unprofessional is it to take a walk-in and then pawn it off on someone else upon finding out what they’re in for? And for no better reason than because my boyfriend thinks it’s okay for him to touch all over girls for ‘business,’ yet I have to turn down work instead of learning from it? The male genitalia or for better word cock is a complex muscle. If you can perfect the art of piercing that without getting it hard, in my book you’re a damn pro.”
He grips my jaw in his hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, only one female fazes me. Only one rack gets me hard. Only one clit makes my hand twitch, and only one pussy appeals to me. Not one other motherfucker is touching a body with that kind of power. When I know you can hold another man’s dick and not flinch or blush, look at it with no uncontrollable thoughts, and shove a needle through it with no remorse, then and only then, will I let you look at anyone else’s dick but mine.”
My mouth is watering. Heat begins to rise from my feet. I grip the front of his shirt in my fist, pulling him closer. His lips are so close when his hand runs up the inside of my thigh, his fingertips slipping under my panties until they brush over my lips. “Fuck,” slips out.
My legs reflexively spread, asking for them to enter me. Just as the tip goes in, a horn goes off, scaring the shit out of me. His hand disappears with the sound of her voice. “You dirty bitch. You have a lot of explaining to do. Get your ass in the car. Our friendship is on the line.”
I fight the smile with the sound of her voice. One look at Kross and it becomes easy. I glance at her. Time and love haven’t changed her much. She’s still sitting mighty comfortable in that gorgeous yellow supercar with a hefty value, dressed to the nines, showing off a smile only a villain wears with the window down. “Lux, I’m on the clock. It’ll have to wait ‘til after work.”
“Bullshit. I’m taking your deceitful, lying ass to lunch. Besides, Kross is going to be busy for a while. Lover boy has an appointment. He’s waiting upstairs.”
I glance at Kross. He’s staring at me. “You have two hours before I come hunting.” His hands drop. When they come back in sight one is holding a hundred-dollar bill, handing it to me. “No girl of mine is eating on Kaston’s dime. Here.”
“I’m not taking that.”
“It wasn’t optional.”
By the look on his face I know if I don’t accept it he’ll force it somewhere. I take it and start to walk off. He grabs my neck before I can pass, pulling me to him. “You still owe me five hundred dollars.”
“What? Then why are you handing this to me? Where is it going to come from, my paycheck? I won’t have much left.”
His thumb brushes my lips in a way that alters my balance. “Better be figuring out how to give a five-hundred-dollar blowjob. I’ve thought about these lips wrapped around my cock. When the last person leaves, we’re going to find out if they can pay off your debt.”
A shiver runs from my neck to the base of my spine. Before I can respond, he’s already walking back up the stairs. My feet hesitantly move toward the car as the door slams, the disappointment settling that he didn’t even kiss me.
I get in the car, waiting for her to speak. I know it’s coming. I’ve kept Lux in the dark about everything, and for good reason. I don’t need her pity. I don’t need her to teach me her way of life. I don’t need her worry or handouts. She’s finally living a full life, and I knew if I told her about the apartment or the job she’d try to give me money. It’s what I would do if the roles were reversed.
It’s always been her and I, and when all you have in this world is your best friend, you tend to watch each other’s backs, but I’m the type of person that I’ll make it on my own somehow or another.
I pull on my seatbelt, looking straight ahead. I can see her staring at me from the corner of my eye, her wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel. Her engagement ring is catching just enough light to draw attention to it, my eyes following the sparkle. I never thought it would be her before me, but I will never let that statement leave my lips.
“Just for the record,” she says, “I’ve decided to take the high road instead of being pissed at you for keeping secrets from me since my busy schedule has caused me to be a shitty friend.”
I glance at the entrance to the shop, wishing I were back in there when I should be focused on the fact that I haven’t seen Lux in so long. A girl date is way overdue. “I’m not the only one keeping secrets.”
She picks up a section of my long, black hair, combing her fingers through it in a motherly way, like she always has in a serious conversation that was geared toward me, her bangles clanging together as her wrist moves. “Fair enough. It’s funny how men bring out a loyalty so fierce that we hide from the ones we’ve always been closest to and keep secrets from the ones we’ve always shared everything with. But I think with you and Kross being a thing now, Kaston will understand. Never again?”
I look at her, my green eyes meeting her blue ones. Lux has always been the more beautiful one in my opinion. She has that model look about her, and the older we get the more different we seem. On the exterior she looks so put together, with her large barrel waves and pristine makeup, her outfit screaming hot, high-class trophy wife. But below the surface, she’s always had it hard. She had to grow up a hell of a lot faster than me, so she’s always been like the mother hen of the two of us.
I think back to the conversation between Kross and I about trust. “I’m not sure if I can make that promise, but I’ll certainly try.”
She gives me a knowing smile, before it evens back out into her previous seriousness. “I know that look. You better start talking.”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah. Let’s go to Joe’s. That’s what it’s gonna take for me to explain that man and me, if it can even be explained at all.”
