Across the Music (Across the Ocean Book 2) (25 page)

"I was hoping you would draw me something that revolved around my love of music. Whatever it is that comes to mind when you think of me and music together, doing our thing. I trust you explicitly." He nods thoughtfully at this, grabbing a backless office chair next to the tattoo bench and rolling it over to the drawing table before perching himself upon it and turning the light that hangs above the desk, on.

"
Já
, I think I can do something like that. Have a seat on the bench and hang out with me while I draw something up." He gestures to the bench behind him and I follow his orders, perching myself upon the tattoo bench with my hands gripping the edge as my legs hang off the side and kick back and forth face with my excitement bubbling out of me.

He picks up the pencil, pushes the end a few clicks so the lead comes out further, and bends down in concentration as he begins the first few lines of what will eventually become my tattoo.

"You and Gunnar are performing tonight?" I ask conversationally, even though I already know the answer. I hear a mhmm come from him as he continues drawing. "Gunnar invited me to come and watch you. May I catch a ride with you this evening?"

He looks up and over his shoulder at me, smiling again. "
Já
, I think that's very possible. Perhaps we will grab a bite to eat after we are done with your tattoo, and head to the place shortly after for a drink or two." He bends his head back to his drawing. It sounds like the best kind of date to me, but I don't say that out loud. I'm still internally confused about what I want from these two men. Friendship seems to honestly just be the simplest way for me to stay close to both of them without freaking myself out.

"That sounds wonderful." My voice is low and soft, not wanting to disturb him too much more so he can finish drawing in peace. Instead, I opt for staring at the artwork on the walls and noting how sterile and proper the room is. Not a speck of dirt or dust can be found, and I'm pleased when I see a framed certificate on the wall above Loki's head that declares him "Best Artist of Show" from an event held at the tattoo convention in Reykjavik once a year. Wow, that must be quite an honor. How did I not know before that Loki was a tattoo artist?
Why didn't I ever ask
? Am I so caught up in myself that I haven't really tried to get to really know these guys?

This realization is like a large bucket of ice-cold water dumped over my head. I'm a jerk. I have just been taking and taking from these guys; their hospitality, their generosity, their sex. I haven't given much back to them. They haven't asked for much from me, but simple cleaning and cooking around the house isn't really giving. It's more like payment, and I need to up my game and get to know both of them.

Loki interrupts my thoughts by turning quickly on his stool, paper in hand. I look down at the paper held up in his beautifully inked fingertips, and my heart thuds heavily in my chest. It's beautiful. Simple and classic, and right to the point.

A single treble clef, reminding me of painted Japanese calligraphy is adapted to where the upper loop has been converted into a casual heart shape. My mouth drops open, and I stare stupidly at it for a moment.

"I hope that means you like it." Loki jokes, half of his mouth lifting in a smile.

"Oh, yes. It's perfect. Where shall we put it?" I begin examining my arms; contemplating the skin for a good location. Loki's eyes drape lazily down my body, stopping for a moment over my chest, even giving my neck a long look over.

"My professional opinion is that you get it on your boob." His shit-eating grin that follows this line makes be burst into laughter. Loki extends on finger towards my chest, and pokes my right under my breasts in the center.

"Right here, I mean. It would extremely sexy, but also a bit more personal." He lifts the paper with his drawing, turns it so it's facing out, and puts it against my chest for me to examine in the long mirror on the wall behind me. It
would
be sexy to place there, but also near to my heart as Loki said. Music is what helps keep my heart pumping and thriving, so it's a perfect place. My face splits in a happy smile, and my eyes meet and lock with Loki's; a smile on his face as well.

"Right on, mate. Let's get this shit done." I hand the paper back to him.

"Take your shirt off so we can figure out what size I need to make the stencil." When my hands reach down to the edge of my cream colored long sleeved blouse, his eyes leave mine and lock onto my fingers, watching them pull the hem up and over my head in one smooth motion. No, wait. His eyes stopped traveling up when they reached my breasts, and his gaze turns so hot, I'm surprised I don't catch on fire. I lean over and place my top on the tattoo bench, then slide my hands into the back pockets of my black jeans, waiting for his eyes to remember where mine are.

A breath later, and his eyes come back up to mine, serious and fierce.

"You should sit down on the table before I devour you where you stand. I'm going to make the stencil. I think I know how big to make it." He turns from me, leaving a chill behind as he walks out the door. My insides have turned to pudding, and I quickly take his advice and sit on the tattoo bench while trying to calm my pounding heart.

Loki fills me with so many sensual urges and wants. He makes me want to do wanton things, become hedonistic in my sexual desires. I don't know him as well as I'd like, but he does bring the lust in me to the forefront. It's strange, because I'm not sure if that would even make a great relationship, one built out of mostly lust. Just because a man is a nice guy and very beautiful... and you share excellent sexual chemistry with them, well that doesn't automatically mean you'd be good in a relationship right?

Whenever Gunnar enters my thoughts, my heart softens. All the hard edges in me become curves; happiness bubbles within me with crisp pops as they burst delicately yet with abundance inside my soul. Ah, that sounds so intense. I'm not ready to feel those things yet, and I'm not sure what should come next, even knowing that Gunnar wants to be with me. I want it too, but what about Loki? Don't I want him too?

Loki returns to the room with the thin paper with the stencil printed on it, motioning for me to stand up near the mirror. Pulling two white latex gloves from a box on a set of shelves, he pulls them on with the loud smacking noises that is so common with these types of gloves. Loki also grabs a disposable razor, a spray bottle, and a small tub of vaseline, a small thimble sized plastic container for the black ink he squeezes into it; setting them carefully on a metal tray on wheels that reminds me of something I've seen in a dentist office.

Next, Loki grabs his tattoo gun, choosing his needles he will be using and setting the prepped machine to the side. He sits on the stool with wheels, rolling himself over to sit in front of me near the mirror with a strong push with his feet on the ground. Holding the paper up to the place under my breasts, he looks up at me with a mischevious smirk.

"You're going to have to take your bra off for all of this." I roll my eyes dramatically at him, struggling not to laugh. I then realize he's serious, and I glance down at where he has the paper placed on my sternum. Damn, he's right. It will get in the way, and I don't want to get ink on my royal purple satin bra.

"Ah, what the hell. You've seen it all before anyways." I shrug cooly, even though my nerves are now on edge at the thought of being topless with him. I suppose I could hold my shirt awkwardly over my breasts during the whole ordeal, but there's no point in being shy now. My fingers lift behind my back to the hooks and make quick work of undoing them and letting the bra fall down my arms.

It's obvious that Loki is enjoying the view, and I'm so happy the door to this room is closed. I hope even more that nobody will come in. He moves back enough for me to place the bra on the bench over my shirt, before I return to my position for him to place the stencil.

After several moments of adjusting, Loki is pleased with the location, and sprays it with the bottle to finish transferring the purple stencil. I look over it in the mirror and decide that it's perfect.

"Lay down on the bench and we'll begin." I follow directions and Loki is set up a few minutes later. The excitement and nerves fill me with with conflicting chills as well as being too hot. Goosebumps cover my arms, yet I still feel like I'm sweating.

"
Allt í lagi
, now I'm going to start. I'm counting on you to sit like a champ during this. You're a tough one, and I know you can do it. Will you lift this arm above your head?" He grabs my left arm and pulls it up gently over my head to rest on the top of the bench. My nipples pucker instantly when he touches me, but I try not to pay too much attention to it. He sits on his rolling stool to my left after lifting it up higher until he is comfortably level next to me.

I take a deep breath when I hear the buzzing of the machine begin, letting it out slowly. He brings the contraption near the space under and between my breasts and looks up at me with a large, wolfish smile.

"I'm about to leave my permanent mark on your body. Are you ready for this?" The thrill that runs through my body at these words has nothing to do with the cold, but I nod at him, a brave smile on my face. A breath later, and the needles touch my skin. I'm pleasantly surprised that it doesn't hurt as badly as I anticipated it would. On the contrary, even though there is a strong stinging sensation, but it's most definitely bearable.

I take this time to take a good look at Loki as he works. His white Henley shirt always looks sexy, especially with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows; his tattoos beautiful artwork like always. His face is full of concentration, and I don't dare bother him during this whole process. I decide instead to relax my head back on the bench and close my eyes through the experience.

Forty minutes later, and we are done. The space where the tattoo is burns something fierce, but is still bearable. Loki motions for me to stand up carefully from the bench, grabbing my arm in case I get light headed.

"Oh, Loki." I murmur softly to his reflection beside me in the mirror. It looks exactly as it should, the skin red and swollen around the black lines that compose my new tattoo. "It's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much mate." Loki's hand rubs the back of his neck and his head ducks down in a shy movement I haven't seen from him often.

"You're very welcome." He grabs a white material and tape to cover my new ink, and bandages me up quickly and efficiently. I put my bra and shirt back on, and stand slightly awkwardly as Loki finishes cleaning everything up.

Once he's finished, he stands in front of me and we examine each other quietly.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask, uncertain what else to say at this moment as he stares down at me.

"I'll take a kiss as payment." I'm shocked by his bluntness, but I guess I shouldn't surprised. I raise an eyebrow and lift the side of my mouth in skepticism.

"The great and mighty tattoo artist, Loki who accepts payments of kisses for his work. How many times has that worked out for you, or even more than a kiss?" The moment the words leave my mouth, I instantly feel like a jerk. He blinks at me with a slight frown between his brows. It's none of my business who he sleeps with, or has slept with in the past. I shouldn't even care to begin with, but I do a little for unknown reasons. My mind takes me back to the bathroom at their flat when the woman was sucking his cock. Then my mind travels to when he touched me and I left him hanging, throwing in his face how I had watched him get sucked off and was left needy and wanting. An idea strikes me, one I know he'll enjoy.

"I'll one up that kiss," my hands reach forward and grab the button of his jeans, undoing them quickly. The flash of surprise in his eyes turns to heat and desire in a split second, fueling my determination. I drop to my knees suddenly, pulling his rapidly hardening cock into my hand before sliding my mouth over and down him as far as I can. A long, sexy moan rumbles from above me, and strong fingers rest softly upon the top of my head. He deserves this, with how good he's been to me.

My mouth begins to move in a quick pace, as my tongue slides around the head of his cock over and over with the motions of my head. His fingers grip my hair tightly now, urging me to continue. I increase the suction of my lips, and squeeze the base of his cock with my hand as I continue moving my head.

"
Fokk, fokk, já
!" He hisses between clenched teeth above me, "
Þú ert falleg
." The fact that he's turned to Icelandic in his lust turns me on, even though I'm not sure exactly what he's said.

Loki jerks suddenly, surprising me a little as I hear a "I'm going to come," sounding as though the words were pulled forcibly from him. I double my efforts, sliding my hand in tandem with my mouth while my tongue continues its hidden strokes against the head of his cock. Another deep shudder comes from him and he comes in my mouth. I don't stop my motions, milking all of his orgasm out of him until he's become a quivering mess, twitching with every glide of my lips on his softening cock.

I stand back up again, wiping the corners of my mouth as Loki stands there heaving deep shuddering breaths as he stares at me, buttoning his pants back up.

"That was incredible. I've been dreaming of this since that time in the bathroom. This was every bit as good as I imagined it would be." The tone in his voice is different from what I'm used to, soft and dreamy. Grateful, maybe. My own emotions are mixed; I'm unsure whether or not that was what I should have done since I've labeled us as 'friends' and this is obviously crossing that line.