TJ walked over with a smile. “Ready, Brady?”
I took a breath and stretched out my arm on the chair’s surface. “Ready.”
Four
Tj
I fellinto my usual routine as I readied my workstation cart. On it were my ink cups, petroleum jelly, water, needle cartridges of various sizes, and of course, my beloved machine.
Brady eyed the cart’s surface curiously as I prepared. The last step was washing my hands and snapping on a pair of sterile gloves. Sanitation was of utmost importance. I shuddered to think about the haphazard job Brady’s first “artist” did...
With preparation completed, I dipped into the ink.
“Should I do anything to help?” Brady asked.
I smiled. That was sweet of him to offer.
“Nope,” I said. “You sit there and relax. Try not to move too much, of course. If you ever need a break, just tell me. This is going to be a long process, so I want you to be comfortable.”
“Okay.”
I took Brady’s forearm, manipulating it into position. Once again, I couldn’t help noticing the softness of his skin, and how good he smelled up close. But I had a job to do. My alpha hormones wouldn’t get the best of me.
“Deep breath,” I murmured. “Here we go.”
Brady tensed as I lowered the machine to his skin, but I didn’t start yet.
“Relax,” I said gently.
Without thinking, I brushed my thumb across his skin to calm him. It sort of had the intended effect, but it also made Brady blush. As adorable as he looked, I knew I shouldn’t fluster my client.
“Sorry,” I said.
“N-no, not at all.” Brady almost sounded disappointed.
I lowered the machine again. The familiar hum vibrated in my hand, putting me in the zone. The lines were first, so I focused on the purple stencil petals. I pulled the first line in one smooth stroke.
Under my touch, Brady relaxed. He peeked an eye open. “That’s it?”
“What’s that?”
“It doesn’t hurt as much as I remember,” Brady commented, surprised.
“Good,” I said, glad to hear that.
“Seemed like it was worse at the first place,” Brady went on, sinking comfortably into the leather chair. “But they didn’t offer me food and water like you did. And I was half-drunk, which probably didn’t help...”
I let out a disapproving grunt. “They were irresponsible. They shouldn’t have tattooed you at all if you were anything less than sober.”
Brady sighed. “Yeah. I know that now, but I made alotof dumb decisions at the time.”
“We’re all young once,” I said wryly.
That earned me a laugh from Brady. I loved that sound. I wanted to push all the right buttons with him, get more out of him. Deep down, I was pleased to have him captive in my chair for at least a few hours, touching him all the while.
Even though Iwastechnically stabbing him over and over again.
Not that he seemed to mind.
