“Oh?”
Mission: Change the Damn Subject accomplished. “I altered the shape of the wing here”—I pointed to the bottom corners—“and here,” and traced the edge where it would rest on her shoulders. I was stalling, still worried about how she would react emotionally after the session. While the tattoo should be well on its way to healing after a week, it would be difficult to resist if she pressed for sex sooner. And she would. Because that was the way she worked.
“Like I said before, we’re looking at about twenty hours to complete the design, but that depends on a lot of factors. We won’t know how the ink is going to take for at least a couple of weeks. I’ve planned a four-hour session tonight for the outline. If you’re uncomfortable, or it becomes too painful, you have to tell me to stop.”
“Okay. Should I get undressed now?”
“Did you even hear what I just said?”
“You’ve scheduled four hours tonight for the outline. If I’m uncomfortable, I should tell you,” she paraphrased.
“You’re absolutely certain you want to go through with this?” I asked.
Tenley started slipping buttons through holes. I noted she took my advice and wore something easy to put back on later. And she wasn’t wearing skintight jeans, either. With any other client I would have left the room to give them some privacy. Not with Tenley, though.
She’d changed her bra since this morning. It was dark blue with silvery lace trim and little crystals all over it. I didn’t bother to hide the fact I was staring. She shrugged out of her top, folded it neatly, and set it on the counter where all the supplies were. Her hands went behind her back, a gesture that pushed her chest out as she unhooked the clasp of her bra. The straps slid down her arms and her perky breasts came into view. Her nipples tightened when the air hit them.
I didn’t look away as I reached into the cupboard beside me to retrieve a towel. “Here.”
She took it from me. “What’s this for?”
“To cover yourself.”
“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen me topless before.”
“Yeah, but now you’re just torturing me. How would you like it if I whipped my dick out and made you look at it for the next four hours?”
Tenley glanced at my crotch. “Point taken.” She covered herself up.
“Besides, I’m going to need Lisa’s help to place the transfer.”
“She’s seen them before, too.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” I had the irrational desire to put Band-Aids over her nipples to make sure they stayed covered.
There was a brief tap on the door before Lisa identified herself. When I gave her the all clear, she slipped into the room.
“Perfect timing. Can I get a hand with this?” I motioned to the design.
“Sure.” Lisa locked the door and passed out coffees first.
Mine was black and still too hot to drink, so I set it on the counter.
Tenley watched with curiosity as I took a seat in my chair and wheeled myself around the room, gathering up supplies as I went. I tossed Lisa a pair of latex gloves and grabbed a pair for myself. “Why don’t you have a seat, kitten.” I patted the stool in front of me.
Lisa shot me an incredulous look. I ignored her and focused on Tenley. She sat as directed, her back ramrod straight.
“You can relax for now. I have to use an antiseptic spray before we transfer the design to your skin,” I said and moved her ponytail out of the way, exposing her scars. Tenley shivered and slumped a little.
Lisa coughed and mouthed a shocked expletive at me. No amount of verbal preparation could adequately describe the full extent of Tenley’s scars.
“You’ll take lots of breaks?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah, whenever I think she needs one,” I said, reassuring her.
Lisa was justifiably concerned. It would be painful to ink over those areas, especially around Tenley’s left hip. Tenley was thin, so anywhere close to bone would be sensitive. When we were ready to place the transfer, I had Tenley stand in front of the mirror.
“These need to be lower.” I traced the waistband of her leggings. I preferred them to her jeans. There was no zipper, no button, no back pockets; just stretchy material that conformed to every curve of her lean body.
“You can pull them down,” she said.
It was a damn good thing we had third-party company, because I would have been all over that comment otherwise. Instead I kept my mouth shut and hooked my thumbs under the fabric, lowering it until it sat beneath her hip bones. Lisa took the left side and I took the right, setting the transfer on Tenley’s skin, making sure it was perfectly in line with her spine and her shoulders. Nothing looked shoddier than a full back piece that wasn’t centered properly. Lisa held the corner and I smoothed it out, peeling it back once it was set.
“It’s going to be gorgeous,” Lisa said, her tone almost reverent.