“There’s no need to be all macho, toxic masculinity about it,” Britt says, in a tone that tells me she’s given this speech a thousand times before. “If you need a break, just say so.”
An amused laugh falls out of me. “You think I won’t tell you if it hurts too much? This is a walk in the park. I’ve been stabbed, shot, and once I thought it was a good idea to go down a metal slide on a forty-degree day. In shorts.” Still have some burn scarring under my left thigh. Good times.
“I can’t tell if you’re exaggerating, stupid, unlucky, or a mix of all three.”
“I’d err on the side of caution and say all three,” I reply with a grin. The slide wasn’t my fault, to be fair. I was ten, and Maverick had gone down first. If he can do something, I can do it too. Using that logic had gotten us both into a lot of trouble as kids. Hell, it gets us into trouble now.
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Kendrick grunts. “He talks out his ass.”
“Hey!” I protest.
“I know the type,” Britt says dryly.
If she didn’t have a needle against my skin, I might have something less than flattering to say to that comment. I have better self-preservation than that. Most of the time. Sometimes. I just don’t want her to fuck up my tattoo since it’s permanent and all that.
Loren chuckles. He sits back and wipes Kendrick’s chest, studying his work. “Just a few more lines, and I think we’re good. I haven’t done a flower in a while, but now I remember why I enjoy doing them.”
The tattoo looks fantastic on Kendrick’s smooth chest, right above his heart, where I belong. It’s the only ink he has, the only blemish on all that perfection. He doesn’t even have any scars onhis chest, which, considering our line of work, is some kind of miracle. Maybe he’s not human. I’d believe it. Teflon. Except for the lines on his knee. I glance down even though I can’t see them through his jeans. I don’t need to see them to feel the stab in my heart.
Broken pieces that I should have prevented. Not all scars are visible, but these are a constant reminder of my failures.
“You want more flowers in your life, boss?” Britt asks. “Thea can hook you up.”
“Your wife is a smart woman,” Loren says, glancing at us. “Perhaps we can do a sale on floral tattoos until the urge passes, and I get thoroughly sick of them.”
Britt cackles. “Fuck no. I’ll be dreaming about roses, and I have way better things to dream about.”
“Like orchids?” I ask innocently.
“Should I get Thea to pierce your mouth shut?” she asks hopefully, glancing up at my face. “She’ll be gentle, I swear. You’ll barely feel it.”
With piercing my lips together? How’s that even possible? Sounds painful by any standard.
“Yes, please,” Kendrick answers for me.
“You’re losing so many brownie points right now,” I warn him. So much sass today. I said I was sorry for mixing up our drinks and making him take a sip of my decaf. Maybe I need to suck his dick again to put him in a better mood.
“How many did I have to start with? You can’t use a system that’s not transparent.”
My lips twist salaciously. “I can do whatever I want.” Case in point, mynameright there in black cursive on his chest. Damn, it’s gonna look so fucking good once it’s fully healed.
Kendrick can’t argue with that, and he knows it.
It doesn’t take long for them to finish with our tattoos and go through the cleaning and aftercare with us. I’m only halflistening, my focus completely on Kendrick as he tugs his T-shirt up and over his head, wincing a little as the fabric brushes over the bandaging. Every time he feels that, he’s gonna think of me, and I fucking love that.
Is this what it would be like if we had sex? A physical reminder of ownership? Would I feel him with every step that I take? There has to be some kind of lingering feeling after having his dick up my ass, surely? What would it feel like? How long would it last?
“Keep it out of the sun, don’t go swimming, keep it clean, and make sure to rub the cream into it, and you should be good,” Loren says, handing us a pamphlet with all the same information.
“And don’t scratch it, whatever you do,” Britt pipes up from where she’s cleaning her space. “It’s gonna itch like a motherfucker. Seriously, though. Just don’t.”
Yeah, I worked that out on my own.
“Watch for any unusual changes, rashes, or pain, and let us know if there are any issues,” Loren adds. “But yes, no scratching. Very important.”
“You did the test thing, so we should be fine, right?” They’d put ink on our skin and monitored it first before they’d started.
“The patch test is a good indicator, but you can never be too careful.”
