I filled out paperwork, and she led me to a chair. Brent promised me he’d be right back and then left me. Jackass.
Ten minutes later, a guy came barreling in, very visibly livid, not at me but at who I now realized was his sister-in-law.
“How dare you—” That’s all I heard as he went on and on with his sister just out of sight. But, midsentence, he stopped yelling and walked straight to me, no longer visibly angry. “So, you picked my flash.”
I nodded, not wanting to ruin what appeared to be a positive shift in his mood.
“Where were you thinking you wanted it?”
So much for small talk. I’d take it. It was better to have this big sexy tattooed man who looked like he could give the world’s best hugs, happy with me being there while he permanently altered my body than it would be to have him still fuming.
“At first, I thought I was going to get it somewhere I could hide it. But it’s so beautiful, I don’t know. I kind of want it where everyone can see.”
And that was when I saw it for the first time. His smile, one that felt like it was only for me.
“You look like you’re in office work.”
“Yeah. I am.” How boring that must seem to someone like him.
“Then you want it where everybody can see only when you want them to. Not like you can have it on the back of your hand or on your face for office work. Not for most companies, anyway.”
I shivered, not having had a single thought that being visible all the time was limited to those few, and what I would guess were very painful places.
“Close your eyes. Think about why you’d want it. Would you want to be able to see it, or do you want others to see it? Do you want it up high, or do you want it down low?”
I had my answer before I realized I did, my hand going to my chest, right above my heart. “Here.” I opened my eyes. “I want it here.”
“Perfect.”
Chapter Five
Sothea
His chest, above his heart. A perfect place for a mark.
And he wanted it where it was as visible as possible. I thought that was the greatest of ideas, and so did my bear. And once I got my stupid head out of the way, my expectations of disappointment and excellent system for causing my own problems, I decided to take things one step at a time. He was my mate. Would he understand that? Would he even want to be?
Step one: tattoo. Something I did multiple times a day and knew how to do well.
“Would you like to take your shirt off?” I wheeled the stool up close to the chair, promising not to let the sight of my mate bare from the waist up distract me from the job at hand. Unfortunately, as he pulled his shirt over his head, he released even more scent. Why had I ever thought I could get past what every cell in my body and my giant bear were insisting on.Mate. Mark. Take home to den.
“I’m going to shave the area so there are no stray hairs to get in the way of the gun.”
“Not like I have a lot of hair,” he chuckled. “But that makes sense.”
“And then I’ll clean it with alcohol.”
He lay back, chest rising and falling with his breaths. “That didn’t hurt at all. What comes next?”
“Now, we apply the stencil so you can get a good look at the design on your body and let me know if you want to make any changes.” As I worked, the familiar rhythms of my art soothed me, and I felt more sure of myself. “Just takes a few moments. Hold still, okay? So it goes on as it should.”
“Okay.” He sucked in a breath and held it.
“You can breathe.” I lifted the stencil and turned the chair to face one of the mirrors. “This is your chance to make changes. About position first. Are you happy with where it’s placed?”
He tipped his head from side to side. “Yes. It’s good.”
“And size. If you would like the art to be bigger or smaller, now’s the time to say. It’s a lot harder to adjust once we start with the inking process.”
