"I love this idea. I was going to ask you to take me anyway, since I don't know anything about tattoos. And I'm ready to get it today." She slides her drawing pad back into her bag after gifting me with the brightest smile.
God damn, she's gorgeous.
15
Zella
"To be clear, Blondie, not all tattoo parlors are created equal. You want to make sure you do your research before you get a tat. James's place is top-notch, up to code, and clean. Some places are not."
The space we are in is part of a strip of small retail shops in the middle of a tiny college town. The shops range from clothing boutiques and a dog treat bakery, to what you could refer to as hippie-type stores. There are tons of restaurants and bars and even a late-night cookie delivery shop. At eight at night, the streets are full of college-aged students. The music from the bars and street chatter carries in through the tattoo parlor windows as Ryker and I sit in the empty lobby at the front of the store.
The parlor closed to the public an hour ago, but the owner, James, was thrilled when Ryker called, and he offered to open it up for us to both get tattoos. I'm a mix of excitement and nerves as we wait for James to transfer my tattoo to his guide. I hadn't done a lot of research on the art of tattooing, but Ryker said they could use my drawing to create a guide, and then I would have my own artwork as my tattoo.
I clutch the notebook, that holds the recently ripped out page, and look around at all the artwork on the walls. I take it all in.
"Nervous, Blondie?" Ryker asks as he grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth and places a soft kiss on my knuckles. Since last night under the stars, he hasn't been able to keep his hands to himself.
I can say with absolute certainty that I love every minute of it.
"Yes, but in a good way," I tell him, leaning into him so I can place my head on his shoulder. "Are you getting a tattoo tonight?"
"I wasn't planning on it. The one I want to get is going to take a while, and I don't want to be here all night." He kisses the top of my head.
"How long do you think mine will take?"
"Probably about thirty minutes or so," James answers as he walks out from the hall that leads to the back. "I'm all ready for you, Zella, if you guys want to just follow me back."
We stand and do just that. The area is an open space with three work stations. There are two small rooms, and then the hallway continues further back. I look around, eying the tiny rooms before sitting down in a dentist-like chair.
"Those rooms are for piercings and tattoos that you wouldn't want other customers to see," James says as he sits on a stool next to the chair.
"Why get a tattoo if you don't want anyone to see it?" I frown.
Besides me, Ryker snickers, and James nods.
"Oh, no. I mean in places on the body, like in the genital area or on the ass." He waves a hand over his crotch, and my face flushes instantly. I must be as red as a tomato because Ryker laughs harder.
"Blondie, people get a lot of things done here that others might not want to see, let alone think about." He takes his own seat on a stool from a nearby station. Using his feet, he rolls himself next to me.
"All right, you said you wanted to do this on your shoulder, so you're gonna have to take your shirt off." James gathers some supplies. Thank goodness I'm wearing a thin camisole under my shirt. I'm not totally down with Ryker seeing me in my bra for the first time with another guy in the room.
I hand my discarded top to Ryker, and he surprises me when he folds it carefully and sets it in his lap.
While he didn't grow up with an easy life, he's never known hard labor, but he's got a little bit of a gruff look. He's a mix between clean-cut and bad boy, and I can't get enough. While I haven't had a chance to see them all, I know he has several tattoos. The boots on his feet make him look like he fits in at the Cuddle Duck more than he does at Camelot University.
So the gentleness he uses with my shirt, the delicate way he reaches for my hand, and the sweet smile he gives me, heats me from my core. I cross my legs and squeeze my thighs shut at the thought of him finding out just how gone I am for him right now.
His sweet smile fades into a knowing smirk and wink just as James asks me if I'm ready. He instructs me on how to sit, which brings me face to face with Ryker.
James informs me, "It's going to pinch, a fuck ton. Since there is less meat back here on your shoulder blade, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch. You sure you want it in this spot?." I bite my bottom lip and nod. I’ve always wanted a tattoo here, I don’t want to back down from a little pain.
"All right, here we go," he says from behind.
I slam my eyes shut, and Ryker places a kiss on my forehead right as the first pinch of the ink stains my skin. I don't know if the pain was offset by his kiss, but the feel of the tattoo machine on my skin barely registers on my pain scale.
Ryker chats with me and catches up with James over the next half-hour, and before I know it, the sound of the gun stops, and James tells me he's done. He grabs a hand mirror, and we walk over to the floor-length mirror.
I lay eyes on my new tattoo.
A feeling of breathlessness washes over me at the meaningful image on my shoulder. "It's perfect," I whisper.
James smiles and walks back to his station. I meet Ryker's eyes in the mirror, and I'm struck by the lust I see in them. Breaking the connection, I turn back to James, and he tells me about how he's going to bandage it up and how to care for it.
As we head back up to the front, I ask James about the bill, and he tells me that it's been taken care of. I start to object, but he interrupts me. "I owed Ryker a tattoo, so don't worry about it." His smile is warm; I can tell an argument would get me nowhere.
We say our goodbyes, and Ryker promises to visit James over the summer break.
It's a little past nine when we decide to grab a bite to eat before finding a place to stay for the night. Even though Ryker was willing to drive some more, it's late. I really don't care if we get home later than we planned tomorrow.
After burgers, fries, and milkshakes, we stop by the cookie shop and buy some for the road tomorrow. That's my excuse at least, Ryker jokes that all the cookies will be eaten before we fall asleep.
We are able to find a tiny motel, ten minutes outside of town, with only one room left.
Ryker carries both of our bags, and I grip the key in my hand as we climb the rickety stairs to the second floor.
"I don't have high hopes. This place isn’t as nice as the last one we stayed at," he mumbles.
When I unlock the door, we are greeted with a sparse room. A slight musty smell hits my nose, but it's not completely unpleasant. It isn't the smell or the lack of decor in the room that garners my attention, it's the full size, singular bed in the middle of the room that makes me gulp.
A strange feeling runs through my veins. I'm excited for what's to come with Ryker; I'm ready to lose a piece of me that I've held so close for so long. Ryker feels right—he's the right person to do this with. I hope, not just once or twice. At the same time, I'm nervous. What if I'm not good at the whole sex thing? I'm not a sexy person, I'm inexperienced and innocent. I need to find my inner confidence, so I overcome the unsureness of it all.