“Jax told me after you two left.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Apparently, your friend made quite an impression.”
“She says she doesn’t do long distance.” I bark out a laugh. “But I think she likes him more than she lets on.”
“According to Jax, it was her idea.” He glances at me with a grin. “Something about wanting to check something off her bucket list?”
Hiding my face in my hands, I groan.
“It’s probably for the best that she doesn’t do long-distance relationships.” Ryder’s tone turns serious. “Jax is... well, let’s just say he’s not exactly boyfriend material.”
I roll my eyes. “Figured as much.”
“Hey. Don’t get me wrong—he’s my best friend and I’d takea bullet for him, but Jax is what most women would call a ‘fuck boy.’” Ryder shrugs. “He’s never been with anyone for more than a few days, always looking for his next sexual conquest.”
“Sounds just like Sasha.” I sigh. “She’s the same way. That’s why she told him up front she wasn’t looking for anything serious.”
“Andthatsounds weirdly like they’d be perfect for each other,” he laughs.
“Speaking of weird...” I grin. “What are some of the strangest things you’ve experienced as a tattoo artist? I bet you’ve seen some bizarre shit.”
Ryder shoots me a glance, eyes crinkling as he grins. “I could write a fucking book with the shit I’ve seen and had to put up with.”
I shift in my seat to face him better. “Tell me.”
He’s quiet for a moment, navigating a particularly rough patch of road. “Well, there was this guy who wanted me to tattoo his ex-girlfriend’s face on his ass with devil horns.”
“Definitely weird,” I snort.
“Then there was the time a dude passed out and pissed himself in my chair,” he says, shaking his head. “That was a fun mess to clean up.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Seriously? Gross!”
“But probably the weirdest...” He pauses, a smirk playing at his lips. “There was this chick named Lisa who came in to get a tattoo on her hip. I think she was maybe in her early thirties.”
“Okay...” I’m intrigued by the expression on his face.
“About halfway through the first session, I notice she’s breathing kind of heavy, which isn’t unusual—some people do that to manage pain. But then she starts making these… little sounds.” His voice drops, like he’s trying not to laugh. “At first I thought she was in too much pain, so I asked if she needed a break.”
He pauses, his grin getting wider by the second.
On the edge of my seat, I wiggle in place as I wait for him to continue.
“She says no, keep going, she’s fine. So I continue, and the sounds get... more intense.” He glances at me and raises an eyebrow. “As a man I’ve been around long enough to recognize when a woman is about to?—”
“No way,” I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth.
“Yep.” He nods, the expression on his face is not only amused, but somewhere along the lines of scandalized. “She had a full-blown orgasm, in the chair, right in the middle of me working on her tattoo.”
“Oh my god!” I burst out laughing. “What did you do?”
“WhatcouldI do? I just kept working and pretended not to notice, even though it was obvious as hell. She was gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles were white.” He shakes his head. “She came back three more times for different tattoos, always requesting me specifically.”
“No!” I’m laughing so hard now my sides hurt. “Did she... every time?”
“Every. Single. Time,” he confirms with a grimace, hitting the steering wheel, punctuating each word. “Jax started calling her ‘The Moaner Lisa’ whenever she’d book an appointment.”
Tears streaming down my face, I start laughing even harder. “That’s hilarious, not to mention horrifying.”
“And do you want to know the worst part? She started bringing her boyfriend with her. He’d sit in the waiting area, watching, knowing exactly what was going to happen.” He runs a hand through his hair and shudders. “The dude was getting off on it too. It was almost like they had some weird fetish thing going on.”
