I finished off the last of my eggs and turned to rinse my plate in the sink before tucking it into the dishwasher. When I turned back around, I found Laikyn staring at me. She’d been doing that a lot since she walked into the kitchen a short time ago. I certainly didn’t mind the approval I saw in her eyes. It wasn’t new. I got approving glances from women all the time. Sometimes, I indulged. Most of the time, I didn’t. I wasn’t like Rule in the sense I tried to fuck myself into oblivion. Although he didn’t drink or do drugs—not since he gave up smoking when he went to prison—the man certainly had a vice: sex. He used it to numb himself. I knew because I was one of his numbing agents.
Not that I minded. The relationship we had was a give-and-take. He fucked me, I fucked him. Whatever he needed at the time. I didn’t overanalyze what it was or look for something that wasn’t there. I owed that man my life, and as far as I was concerned, I would be here for him until he turned me away. And if that day ever came, I would walk away without a single regret.
“Could you … um … turn around again?” Laikyn asked as she got down from the counter stool she’d been sitting on.
I didn’t have to ask why. I knew she was looking at the tattoo on my back. People found it fascinating, and when someone saw it for the first time, they often had the same reaction.
“It looks soreal,” she said. “Can I touch you?”
I nodded, then steeled myself for her touch. It didn’t help. The instant her cool fingertips grazed over my skin, my cock kicked like someone had held an electric current to the damn thing.
“That is crazy cool,” she whispered, her fingers sweeping over me. “The chiaroscuro technique is incredible. The shadows have depth, enhancing the light source on the…Sorry, I’m an art nerd.” She giggled. “I keep expecting to feel the mechanical components like they’re really there. The hatching is insane.”
The tattoo was designed to look as though my skin was pulled away to reveal the mechanical skeleton beneath.
“The shadows make it come to life,” she mused, caressing along my sides, where the artist had filled in with black ink to imitate the dark cavities that would surround the skeleton.
Her hand fell away, leaving a chill in its wake.
“How long did that take?”
I turned to face her, using the island to conceal the hard-on tenting my shorts. I held up two fingers.
“Two years? Wow.” She returned to her seat at the counter. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The artist is very talented.”
I didn’t tell her that I was the one who’d designed it. I had the original drawing in my bedroom, the one I’d given to the tattoo artist so she could convert it into a design that worked best with my musculature.
I pointed at my arm and then at her.
“Do I have tattoos?” she said, guessing my intention correctly. “I do, actually. A few.” She gestured to her left side. “I’ve got butterflies starting at my hip, and they go around to my back. There’s a paintbrush that touches the tip of one of the butterflies since I designed them myself.”
I hoped one day I would have a chance to see her masterpiece simply because I was sure it was as beautiful as she was.
“So, I have a question.”
I met her stare.
“Actually, I have a thousand, but I’ll start simple.” Her smile was infectious. “If I want more than one-word responses, how do I go about getting them?”
Yeah, I really liked this girl.
I picked up my phone, then held it up before pointing to her.
“My phone?”
I nodded.
She grinned, then reached for her back pocket. “You’d be really good at charades, you know that?”
Funny, I was thinking the same thing about her.
I tapped my phone and pulled up the note I’d created long ago that had my phone number on it. I showed her.
Laikyn typed it into her phone. A few seconds later, a text message came through.
— You might regret doing that. I like to ask questions.
I typed my response.
