“Yep,” I answer.
“I'm Cole, nice to meet you. Now, do you know what you want, and where you want to put it?”
Nodding, I say, “I do.” He motions to me to follow him back, and the guys try to follow, but I stop them. “Wait out here. I want it to be a surprise.”
Razor devours my face, then growls once again, “Be good, Fiasca.”
I don’t bother to respond, so I just go back to where Cole is waiting.
“Have a seat,” he points to a large chair. “What are you thinking?” I explain my idea, and he smiles. “Sounds perfect. I can do that. Where do you want it?”
“Right over my heart,” I say.
“That will hurt more,” Cole cautions.
I shrug. “That’s fine.”
He walks away for about fifteen minutes and returns with a paper. “This is just a transfer. I'll apply it to your skin, and ink over it.”
He tells me to raise my shirt, and I laugh out loud. The guys would flip over this.
I pull my shirt over my head, removing my bra while Cole discreetly turns his back. I take my discarded shirt and hold it over my nipples the best I can.
Cole carefully applies the transfer, an utmost professional not trying to ogle my chest.
He nods toward a mirror on the wall. “See what you think.”
I get up and go look, and tears spring to my eyes. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper reverently. “You are very talented.”
“Thank you,” he smiles, then turns his back to ready his workstation.
I sit back down, watching in fascination as he gets the needle loaded with ink.
“I’ll do the outline first, then fill it in,” Cole explains.
“Got it.” I lay back, readying myself the best I can.
When the needle finally touches my skin, I yelp, causing a ruckus in the waiting area.
“Chill!” I holler to the guys. “I’m fine!”
Cole chuckles. “A queen on her throne.”
“And they know it,” I quip, giggling.
I lay back once again and close my eyes. After a while, I get used to the feel of the needle. Until he starts filling it in, anyway. I wince, and he apologizes.
“It will be pretty tender. Hang in there, it won’t take me too long,” Cole says kindly.
I take a deep breath, letting him finish.
After about another hour or so, he declares he’s done.
I jump up and rush to the mirror, tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Oh my God, it’s perfect. Thanks, Cole.”
Cole rattles off after-care instructions, and hands me a paper to take with me. He goes to bandage it, but I stop him. He understands why, so I slip out of the room, shirt still off.
