“Still sore,” I admit, forcing myself not to shield them with my arms on instinct. “But in a good way. They’re... sensitive, that’s for sure.”
After lunch, we head to Prepped & Polished. Of the two nail salon’s in Lakeside, it’s our favorite.
Once our nails are dry we treat ourselves to a massage, and an hour later, I’m so relaxed I feel like I’m floating as we walk back to our cars.
“You sure you don’t want me to help you set up?” Noia asks, hugging me gently so she doesn’t squish my boobs.
“I’m sure. This is something I need to do on my own and there’s not much to do anyway,” I say returning her soft squeeze. “But thank you. For everything.”
“Just text me tomorrow with all the dirty details,” she says with a wink. “And don’t forget—you deserve to be happy, Sash. Don’t let fear stop you from going after what you want.”
After she drives away, I head to the liquor store for a bottle of Jax’s favorite whiskey, then head home.
Parking my car in my driveway, I check the time on my phone. He usually gets home around six-thirty, which gives me two hours to prepare.
I take my time in the shower, making sure to shaveeverywhere. The fresh vanilla-scented body wash Noia convinced me to buy fills the steamy air as I lather up.
My piercings have healed enough that I can touch them without wincing. The rose gold color looks amazing in contrast to my skin tone, giving me a little thrill. I wonder how Jax will react when he sees them again?
Once I’m dry, I slather myself with coconut body butter. Then I dry my hair just enough to encourage my natural waves, letting it fall loose around my shoulders.
Makeup comes next, but only enough to enhance my features. A swipe of mascara, a touch of blush, and tinted lip balm. Just a slightly more polished version of myself.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror that’s hanging on the back of the bathroom door, I check my reflection. My piercings catch the light, drawing attention to my breasts and the subtle shimmer from my body lotion makes my skin glow.
Draping the tie around my neck, I let both ends hang loose between my breasts, green silk contrasting warmly against my skin.
My stomach flutters with nervous anticipation. “You can do this,” I whisper to myself.
Naked, except for the tie, I glance at the clock. Heart racing, I tiptoe down the stairs, bare feet silent on the hardwood floors as I head for the kitchen to pour myself a glass of red wine to help calm my nerves.
The living room is dimly lit, with just a single lamp in the far corner casting a soft, warm glow. The special bottle of whiskey I bought sits on the coffee table in front of me next to a tumbler I’ve already filled for Jax.
Taking a deep breath, I settle into the oversized, butter-soft leather La-Z-Boy recliner. No more than ten minutes later, I hear his truck pull into the driveway.
My heart is practically beating out of my chest as I adjust myself in my seat. Spreading my legs, I swing one leg over the arm of the chair, letting the other fall open. I’m already wet. Just the anticipation alone has got my skin tingling and my clit throbbing.
When I look down to make sure the tie is still perfectly positioned, I hear the key turn in the lock.
forty-seven
I walk outof Summit Studio reeling over what I just admitted to Sasha, cringing inside as I look both ways before crossing the street to Skin & Ink.
The air is blessedly cool as I step inside and make my way to the employee bathroom to shower and change.
Mind drifting, I tug on a dark pair of jeans and a clean Skin & Ink T-shirt. I can’t believe I just laid it all out like that, telling Sasha I’d wait for her. But fuck, I meant every word.
I head to my station to set up for my first appointment, but my concentration is shot. Every time I look at my tattoo chair, all I can see is Sasha—legs spread, back arched, my head buried between her thighs as she moaned my name. The way she tasted, and the sounds she made as her hands clutched at my hair.
My cock hardens, and I have to adjust myself in my jeans.
Christ.
“Hey, you good?” Ryder asks as he walks by, heading for the break room.
“Yeah,” I mutter, rearranging my supplies for the third time.
This has been happening all week. Struggling to focus onanything without those memories invading my brain. The night I pierced Sasha’s nipples before dropping to my knees plays on repeat in my head like some kind of erotic movie I can’t for the life of me seem to shut off.
