“Right,” Tombstone grunts, causing me to glance at him over my shoulder to find only him smiling at me. “Have fun, Bambina. Trust what Sasha’s got for you.”
“Okay,” I mutter, not sure what he means by that.
“Psst. He’s a pain in the ass.” Sasha snickers, finally releasing my hand. “Here, have a seat and we’ll get to work.”
“Can I ask what you’re doing before you stick me with a needle?” I demand nervously.
“Well, yeah, I’m not gonna start drawing on that pretty skin with my tattoo gun unless you tell me, but first, it’s your surprise, and I’ll have to blindfold you for it.” Sasha steps over to the farthest part of her station before returning with a bandana.
“What?” I pant, doing my best not to hyperventilate.
“I’m kidding.” Sasha snorts. “I’m not gonna do that to you. But I do need you to remove your hoodie and let me see your wrists.”
My wrists?
“Of course, he didn’t tell you.” She sighs, rolling her eyes at the same time. “Right, I’m a tattoo artist, but I also specialize in covering scars. I know about yours. Tombstone told me.”
Um, what? Anger starts to build inside me at the thought of him talking about my shameful ‘accident’ with a complete stranger.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Sasha whispers and holds up her own wrists. “I specialize in this particular set of scars, because I have my own. With yours still being freshly healed, what we’re doing for them now is a customized henna piece that we’ll keep replacing until you’re able to have a permanent tattoo.”
My heart stutters to a stop at Sasha’s words. Unable to speak, thanks to the tightness in my throat, I nod and take my hoodie off.
As Sasha works, she tells me her story and why she’d started working with those who need certain types of tats to cover scars they want to forget about. She changes them from something hideous to something beautiful.
When she’s done with my wrists, I’m stunned at how right she is. They are a work of art.
“Now, can I show you the tattoo I’ve designed for you?” she asks, holding up a sketchbook.
“I would love to see it.” I smile, genuinely happy with the henna tattoos that now cover my scars. Flipping the sketchpad over, I gasp at the beauty she’s showing me. It’s gorgeous and something I would love to have on my body.
“Tombstone told me about your fighting spirit, and I thought this would be perfect for you. If you like, I say we put it between your shoulder blades. It’ll show you’re not spineless, but a warrior with a wolf’s soul,” she murmurs, bringing tears to my eyes.
“Please.” I nod, wanting exactly what Sasha said.
The tattoo she’s going to draw along my skin is a perfectly shaded wolf with jade green eyes. Behind the main wolf are shadows of other wolves with their heads tilted back as they howl at the moon. It’s perfect, and I can’t wait to have it finished.
By Tombstone doing this for me, he's proving just how special I am to him. And the walls I’d been doing my best to keep up between the two of us shatter to the floor, crumbling away as my feelings for him soar to life. I only hope I don’t get burned in the fires that are still burning around me.
Chapter Eleven
Tombstone
Pulling up to the house, I nod to the prospect sitting in my driveway. Before leaving the tattoo parlor, I had texted him with an order and roundabout time we’d be home. I wanted to end the day by giving Sutton one of her favorite foods—Thai chicken and noodles.
Today is all about Sutton and me connecting. I’m not trying to be pussified about the whole thing. I’m just trying to show my woman what she means to me before I need to get down to business, telling her about the shit from my past.
From the smile Sutton gave me when we finished up with Devin and Sasha, I knew she'd liked my surprise. The henna on her wrist is absolutely perfect, and Sasha had incorporated my name in the design just as I asked. I figured it was a good way to prove to Sutton that she’s mine. Plus, it shows what it would be like once her scars are healed enough for those markings to be permanent.
I also can’t wait to see the tattoo she got on her back. Sasha and Sutton had refused to let me see it before they bandaged it. That’s all right. I’ll see it later tonight after everything is said and done. Especially when I’ve got her underneath me, or above me—I don’t want to fuck up her artwork. Shit, I wonder what she’ll think of my own piece I got Devin to tattoo on my forearm.
Shutting off the bike, I kick the stand down as Sutton hops off. I swing my leg over and straighten as I take her hand in mine.
“Here you go, Tombstone,” the prospect says, holding the bags out for me as I step closer to him. “Everything you ordered is in here. It should still be hot. I haven’t been here more than five minutes at most.”
“Appreciate it, Prospect.” I nod, taking the bags from him with my free hand. “I’ll catch ya at the clubhouse tomorrow.”
Giving me a two-finger salute, the prospect darts back over to one of the spare trucks he had drove over here. At least he's sensible enough not to bring our food on a bike. I’d have been pissed if he did. Nothing more irritating than eating cold Thai noodles. I hate my food getting cold. That’s fuckin’ nasty.
I tug Sutton’s hand and guide her into the house. Only when we’re inside do I release her. “Why don’t we eat in the living room?” I suggest. “We can start the movie, and if you want, I’ll see if I can’t rent Venom two as well.”
“That sounds good to me, but you don’t have to rent the second one. I promised the girls we could go see it in two weeks when we’re all free,” she murmurs, moving ahead of me.
“We’ll see how everything goes,” I say, giving her a smile.
The two of us make our way into the living room, and while I pull the food out of the bags and set out the containers, Sutton brings the movie up on the TV for us.
“I’ve been meaning to ask—why do you have such a large TV?” she asks, taking a seat on a cushion as she tosses it on the floor, her mischievous eyes holding mine.
“Don’t even think it’s got something to do with the size of my dick, Bambina.” I chuckle, quirking a brow as she begins to giggle.
“I wasn’t thinking that at all.” She snickers, rolling her eyes. “I simply don’t get why men have to have such large TVs.”
“It’s a guy thing.” I shrug, handing her one of the containers. Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch, I spread it on the floor next to Sutton and toss more cushions down. This is one thing I’ve learned about my woman—she doesn’t like to eat on the couch. She’ll eat in a bed, at a table, or on the floor. I’d love to know her reasons for this.
“Whatever.” Rolling her eyes, she opens it and starts stabbing her chopsticks through the noodles.
Starting the movie, I take my position next to her and dive into my food, only stopping long enough to go into the kitchen to snag both of us a beer.
Throughout the movie, we talk about little, minuscule things, nothing heavy. I’m holding the heavy for after. Then afterward, I’m hoping I’ll be holding something even better as I thrust inside her.