Eli Gastright: WHICH WILL FREAK HER OUT
Sadie Stewart: Leo, stop being such a doughnut [doughnut emoji]
Leo Mills: Aren’t you dying of curiosity too???????
Emily Cole: From what I’ve seen, she seems really nice. A bit...kooky, maybe? Quite polished, confident, smart. Chatterbox.
Leo Mills:She’s a chatterbox???
Leo Mills:SERIOUSLY
Leo Mills: My mind is blown
Leo Mills: Dean is into a chatty Cathy
Leo Mills: OK now I HAVE to meet her
Sadie Stewart: …
Emily Cole: [GIF of Naked Gun forehead slapping scene]
Liaden
It’ssurprising how relaxed I am for someone who’s been jabbed with needles almost solidly for three hours. But here I am, blissed out and sorry it’s nearly time to stop for the night. When I did my research, I saw some tattoo lovers described the feeling as ‘a nice hurt’ and ‘addictive pain’, and I couldn’t relate to that initially, but I can definitely see what they mean now I’ve experienced it for myself. I’ve read the aftercare sheet he gave me to look over while he worked, and it seems nice andstraightforward. No sunlight or submerging it in water for three weeks. Rub ointment into it for three days, and then switch to regular moisturiser. No scratching, no matter how much it itches, that kind of thing. And I made the bank transfer for my first instalment on my phone.
And I’ve also been watching Dean all evening, either in the mirror in front of me or out of the corner of my eye. Watching him concentrate, squint, and bite his lip as he worked has been arousing as all hell, to the extent that I know I’m wet between my legs. Competency porn is a definite kink of mine, always has been, and there’s nothing more likely to set me on fire for someone than to watch them excel in their creative metier. It’s been hard not to writhe a little under his touch, not because of the needle, but because his gloved fingers feel so good on my skin that I want to purr.
Should I let him know it?
Hmm. Why not? Let’s see ifIcan makehimsquirm…
He carefully wipes over my new tattoo, and I can’t help letting out a soft moan. Also, I have nowishto help it. If I don’t let him know how my body is responding to him, I can’t reasonably expect him to act on it, after all. And I would very much like him to, although I think I’m going to be doing most of the running here, and possibly even making the first move.
I’m OK with that, as long as it’s what he wants. If not, I’ll back off immediately.
“That feelsgood,” I say sleepily. I turn and rest my head on my hands as I look at him. His eyes are looking straight into mine, and they’re a lovely, crystal clear blue, like a lake in the sunshine. There’s a question in them. “Your touch,” I explain, “even through gloves. Even over sore skin. It feels nice.” I grin. “You’re very gentle for someone who’s run needles all over me all night.”
His mouth quirks, making me notice how beautifully shaped his lips are, and gives me an easy shrug. I’m sure he’s received this compliment many times before, but I also noticed he swallowed pretty hard just then. I don’t think that has anything to do with his throat injury, as that’s the first time I’ve noticed him doing that, so maybe heisaffected by me, after all.
I sincerely hope so. It would be such a pity for this to be one-sided.
He’s quiet behind me for a few seconds, and then he hands me his phone. He’s taken a photo of my back to show me progress. Underneath, he’s added some text:Feel free to delete this photo after you’re done, but I wanted you to see what it looks like so far.
I stare. It’s beautiful. My skin is pink and angry looking, but I don’t care. I’m mesmerised by the detailed hieroglyphs, and how he’s reproduced the roughness of the stone’s surface with the beginnings of some shading. I feel like if I could reach that part of me to touch it, I’d feel cold, rough stone instead of flesh. I don’t look at all like myself, and yet it’s unmistakably me. I love it. It’s intriguing.
It’s so sweet that he invited me to delete the photo. His professional ethics are clearly unimpeachable. But I rather like the thought of him having it on his phone, maybe looking at it.
Maybeenjoyingit.
I smile to myself and tap some different buttons on his phone instead.Add contact. I type my number in and press save before I hand it back. When I look up, he looks stunned. He was watching what I did, and I’ve shocked him.
“It looks fantastic,” I murmur. “Text me the photo later?” A flimsy pretext, but a sufficient one.
His face relaxes a little, and he gives me a thumbs up sign.
I haven’t been this turned on by someone in… I’m actually not sure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more convincedI am that this is the most I’veeverbeen aroused by another person, certainly so early on in our acquaintance. And he managed it without touching me in any traditional erogenous zones; just deft fingertips on my back, my shoulder, the base of my neck… The soft whisper of his breath on my skin as he worked made me shiver a couple of times. Even now, as he’s carefully taping clingfilm over my fresh new ink, am I imagining sensuality in the gentle, careful way he’s smoothing the tape over my skin? Or is this business as usual for him and I’m just falling victim to wishful thinking by imagining he’s treating me with more than the levels of care and courtesy he’d show any client?
I’m so relaxed and languorous right now that I kind of forget that I’m topless as I start to sit up. Pure absent mindedness on my part, nothing calculated.Woops. I realise only because I see him freeze briefly, the corner of his mouthalmostlifting, and then turn sharply around, facing away both from me and from the mirror that could have afforded him an illicit glimpse. He takes his gloves off in something of a hurry, making the rubber snap in a weirdly and comically erotic way.
