She sets her book on top of her legs, giving me a full view of her upper body. It’s like a one-two punch to the face, but somehow, I don’t swallow my own tongue or start to drool. “It’s nice to see you again and not when you need to save me,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“I never got to thank you enough for helping me out.”
“There’s no need to thank me, Arlo. How have you been? You seemed—”
“I’m great,” she says, not letting me finish my statement. “I was in a bad place back then, but I’m so much better now.”
“We all have shitty times in our lives, but I’m glad you’re doing better. You deserve to have better.”
“You too, Mello,” she says with a small smile. “That’s why I told Lily I wanted to help when she said you wanted to find your forever.”
“Well, I appreciate your input. I swear I’m not broken.”
“Never thought you were. A guy who’s broken wouldn’t have stopped to help me twice and been nothing but a great guy about it.”
I clear my throat, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation. “You sure you want to do this?” My gaze dips to her exposed ribs and her perfect, blemish-free skin. “We can still fake date without the pain and permanent reminder of me etched on your skin.”
“I want this,” she tells me, never breaking eye contact. “I’ve wanted a dragon for as long as I can remember, and when I saw your drawing, I knew it was the one.”
“I can make it smaller, less intricate, and put it somewhere a little less painful.”
“I want it just like it is,” she says, her eyes dipping to the piece of paper I set next to her when I entered the room. “It’s beautiful.”
“I have something similar. Almost everyone in the family has a dragon somewhere on their skin too.”
“Where’s yours?” she asks, her eyes moving over my skin, searching for the ink.
“On my ribs.”
“Let me see it,” she whispers.
Reaching back, I yank my T-shirt over my head. Her eyes light up, moving over my skin like she’s studying a work of art.
“Turn,” she says, finally letting go of my arm. “Show me all your ink.”
Without hesitation, I stand so my back is at her eye level and turn to face the door. I jump when her warm fingers touch my skin and start tracing the outline of the tattoo on my back I had my brother put there five years ago.
“It’s all stunning,” she whispers, the leather under her body squeaking before her warm breath joins her fingertips as I turn. “The work is exquisite. The dragon is powerful and a slight variation on the one you’re putting on me.”
“I drew them both,” I tell her, my voice strained because I like the way her fingers feel against my flesh. I close my eyes, letting her get her fill and loving every second her skin is on mine.
“I want it,” she says, her fingers moving over my ribs and down the tail of the dragon. “Seeing it in person…the power, the beauty… I know I want it, Mello.”
“Whatever you want, babe. I’ll give it to you,” I say, worrying I mean those words about more than a simple tattoo.
“Good,” she tells me, and a second later, the warmth of her fingers vanishes. “I’m ready.”
I lift my arms, about to put my shirt back on, when she whispers, “Don’t.”
I turn, staring down at her. “You want me shirtless?”
“It’s only fair,” she says with a smile, tipping her head downward to her lace-covered breasts. “Don’t you think?”
“You’re playing dirty, Arlo.”
“Who said I had to play fair?”
I swallow the groan that’s hanging in the back of my throat, trying not to fall for her games. “Stand up for me so we can place it right,” I tell her softly, knowing the next few hours are going to be more painful for me than her.
She stands, her breasts in my face, arms at her sides. “Like this?” she asks, looking down at me so innocently, I almost fall for it.
“Just like that. I’m going to run my hand across your skin to see if we need to shave any hair and then place the tattoo. I swear to God, I’m not touching you for no reason.”
She laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world. “It’s okay. Lily explained it all to me. It’s pretty hard to tattoo me without touching.”
I lift my hand as she stares down at me, and before I can touch her ribs, she places her hands on my shoulders. We’re entering dangerous territory and alarm bells are going off in my head, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
I am a professional after all. I’ve tatted just about every single body part you can imagine. But this is the first time touching a client feels like something else…something more.
Her skin is like silk underneath my palm, smooth and hairless. “Babe,” I say, my voice coming out way deeper and betraying the shit she’s doing to my insides. “I need you to put your hands down to place the tattoo.”
“Sorry,” she says, but she’s slow to move her hands.
“Stand up straight.”
She does, but I can’t resist the urge to touch her hips, making sure she’s fully facing me. “Don’t move.”
Arlo barely breathes as I prep the spot, carefully laying the stencil on her skin and rubbing over it with my palms, transferring it to her body.
This simple act of placing her outline may be the most erotic moment of my life, and there’s not even any sex involved.
How fucked up is that?
Super fucked up and more than I can wrap my brain around.
If I think about it too much, I’m going to mess this all up, and the last thing I want is to give her a shitty tattoo that’ll be the only blemish on her otherwise perfect body.
As soon as the paper is off, she steps up to the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “What do you think?” she asks me, turning from side to side to see it from different angles.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, but I’m talking about her and not just my outline on her skin.
“I love it,” she says, running her fingers around the outside edges.
I can’t stop myself from staring at her in the mirror. Fuck, this is going to be a miserable month.
“You ready?”
“Yeah.” She turns toward me, the real thing more spectacular than the reflection. “Promise you’ll be gentle with me.”
“I promise,” I tell her, meaning every word. “Tell me when it becomes too much, and I’ll do whatever I can to make you more comfortable.”
She climbs up on the table, lying back with her ribs facing me. “You have some music or something? It’s too quiet in here.”
“What do you want to listen to?” I brace myself, waiting for her to say Shawn Mendes or some other fluffy-ass girl shit.
“Drowning Pool or something like that would be great.”
My eyebrows rise, moving on their own and out of complete shock. “Metal?”
“Hell yeah. Something hard and heavy.”
It’s official. I’m fucked. Not a little fucked. But totally and completely fucked. It’s like Lily gave Arlo the playbook to get to me as fast as possible, plucking my dream girl out of thin air.