“I thought maybe we could
add some color to the rose and buds. The outlines will be black, but we could
fill with some red or pink. We could even go with the two shades, it depends
what you’d prefer.” There’s something nice about the way he speaks. It’s
unrushed with a smooth texture, calming and sexy at the same time. The type of
voice you feel as well as hear.
Joe’s voice, just like his
eyes, makes me feel deliciously warm.
“I trust your judgment. You
decide.”
He smiles and stands up.
The equipment and the small
thimble-type pots of ink are all in place. I remain on the table with my knees bent
and my feet flat on the surface. Joe transfers the stencil onto my foot, and I
agree it once again. When I hear the buzzing of the machine, my nerves start to
resurface, but I don’t want to create a fuss this time. When the needles first
make contact with my skin, Joe checks with me that I’m okay with it. It’s a
scratchy type of feeling, which I think I can bear. It’s only the start,
though, so I’m prepared for the possibility it’ll get worse. No matter what,
I’m seeing this through.
Okay, it’s hurting. I’m
wincing on occasion, but I’m not freaking out. The outlines are complete, so I
just might make this without embarrassing myself.
Again.
“How the hell did you sit
through having all of yours done?” I say, trying not to sound like I’m
constipated.
“With each of them, I
started off getting as much done as possible and had follow-up sessions until
they were finished. Larger designs are often carried out over several visits,
and sometimes the designs just naturally develop over time without prior planning.
Don’t underestimate yourself, the foot is a sensitive area, and, of course, we
all have different pain thresholds. The most important thing is to relax and
keep breathing.”
As we continue, I split my
time between trying not to grimace and trying not to be too absorbed in Joe’s
facial expression, which is one of deep concentration that he maintains even
when he’s talking. It’s fascinating.
We’re finished, done, it’s
over.
“Oh, wow, it’s amazing.” I
can’t believe how good it is. The detail and the richness of the red with well
incorporated hints of pink are remarkable. “What do you think, Su?” I ask,
pointing my foot in her direction.
“Love it, love it!” she
says, grinning with approval. I so do, too.
Joe wheels his chair back
and stands up. I jump off the table and, over excitedly, hug him, pushing up
onto tiptoes and wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. “Thank you.”
Shit. I pull away as if yanked back by an invisible force. My eyes wide in
horror, my hands over my open mouth, I say the only thing I can. “I am really
sorry.” A stunned giggle escapes me.
“It’s cool. I’m glad you
like it.” His lips curve wide, he seems un-phased, maybe even humored. Yep, I
think he wants to laugh at me. “Let’s get that covered,” he says.
I sit back up on the table,
feeling mortified by my unplanned outburst. I fucking hugged him! Once the
ointment and bandage are on, I take the opportunity to actually observe the
pictures of other people’s body art, while Joe discusses Su’s tattoo with her.
I haven’t even left and I already know I want another one.
As I scan the images, I can
see why this place was recommended to us; the standard is exceptional. When I
reach the corner, at the rear of the room, I notice a photo of Joe and Adam.
It’s tucked away on the counter, but clearly visible – I’m not snooping. Now I
know where that physique of Joe’s comes from, and the black belt tells me he
must be pretty damn good at it.
“Ready when you are,
Callie,” Su calls.
I turn to face them. “You do
martial arts?” I ask Joe, without moving from where I’m standing.
“Yeah,
Jujutsu.”
“Really?”
I say, with an unavoidable raise of my eyebrows. He
nods in response, and I don’t know what the hell else to say. I’m impressed in
more ways than one. “Are you clear on what you’re going to get?” I ask Su,
walking to her.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go book
myself in now.” She grins excitedly.
I’m grabbing my opportunity.
“I’m thinking about another one. Something
like
that.”
I point to a picture of a woman’s tummy, tattooed down one side. “Not the
design, but the location.”
“You know, I could do
something to go with the one on your foot. Lemme show you quickly.” He leads me
to his drawing board and in no time roughly sketches his idea, while talking me
through it. I want it.
I’m definitely coming back.
We’re all heading for the
door, to exit the room, when Su suddenly stops. “Oh, can we see your other
tattoo before we go? I hope you don’t mind,” she says.
Joe shrugs his shoulders,
completely at ease with Su’s request. He probably gets asked this all the time.
“If you want to.”
“Yes, please,” she says,
springing up on to her toes like an excited child.
I do want to see it, but I
don’t. The thought alone made a flash of heat snake through me. I grip the end
of my ponytail, and twirl my hair around my forefinger, saying nothing on the
matter.
Joe grasps his shirt at the
center of his upper back and pulls it up, the hem rising from the low hung
waistband of his loose-fitting, pale blue jeans, and tugs it over his head, taking
it off. Even with his shirt off, I do, but I don’t want to look.
Okay, how much praise can a
man take in one day?
Seriously?
Joe’s body is beyond
amazing, it’s muscular and strong looking. Not bulky, just superbly sculpted
and his smooth, hair-free chest doesn’t take anything away from his manliness.
I didn’t expect the curves and spikes of his tribal tattoo to spread across his
defined left pec. I definitely didn’t expect to see a bar running through his
right nipple. Thankfully, he doesn’t stay facing us for long, and without being
asked, he turns away from us. I wonder if his girlfriend would mind us seeing
him bare from the waist up, observing him to this degree. Does he have one, I
wonder? Not that that’s any of my business.
Oh, my goodness.
His entire back is tattooed
and at the center of it, an embracing, naked man and woman sit gazing at each
other’s lips. It looks as though they’re on the verge of kissing, the seconds
before their lips make contact. Their limbs protect their modesty, keeping it
tasteful, and, though done subtly, it’s deeply intimate and sensual. It’s
intriguing that they’re in a forest, a public place, yet it seems so private,
like no one beyond themselves exists. As with his others, it’s black with
shading, and it’s clear every bit of the design has been considered.
What’s got me the most is
the obvious love, comfort and companionship it shows; the offer of something
more than just physical. I see it in their eyes and their hold. That’s what
I
take from the image, anyway.
I wonder if it represents
the man who bares the design on his skin.
I feel warm, soft skin under
my finger tips. I’m touching it. I drag my hand away, as quickly as if I’d been
burned by him. “It’s incredible, who did it?” The words leave my mouth with
urgency.
Joe turns to face us, and I
have no choice but to meet his gaze. I stop breathing.
“I designed it, and my
brother did it for me.”
“Wow,” is all I can say,
tearing myself away from the too intense eye contact.
“That’s some tattoo, Joe,”
Su adds, thoroughly composed. “They all are. You and your brother are so
talented. This place has got a really good reputation, that’s why my boyfriend
recommended it to us. Did you do Adam’s?”
“Most, yeah, but our uncle
did his earlier ones,” he says, as he puts his shirt back on.
I noticed when we arrived
that Adam has a lot of them, more than Joe, and they’re all in color. They’re
amazing as well.
“Let’s go book you both in,” he says, pulling the door
open.
I arrive home disappointed to find I’ve missed my parents
by ten minutes. They have dinner plans tonight, so I knew they’d be going out,
but I hoped I could show them my tattoo before they left. What I was hoping,
mostly, is that I could finally convince my mom that I did the right thing.
It’s fantastic and surpassed my own expectations, and I know I’ll never regret
getting it done.
The moment I turned eighteen
I told my mom I wanted a tat. All she asked was that I wait a while and see if I
still felt the same. She was concerned about the permanence of it, and my young
head. “What if you change your mind in five years? Or when you’re thirty?” I
understood her reasoning, but I knew I was positive about it, so I went along
with her for her peace of mind. She also said she’d pay for it if I waited. Who
knew I’d be getting a second one? I still have the cash I saved, meaning I can
easily afford it. I love it when things fall into place like that, don’t you?
Anyway, I’ve been patient for the past nine months, but right up until this
morning, she was still doubtful. She was fine about the piercings. “Not so
permanent,” she said.
Su’s mom and mine think
we’re going through some kind of phase, with the funky hair colors and the ink.
That is not the case, we’ve always been quite daring. We’re just now at an age
where we can embrace it and express ourselves fully and we have every intention
of doing that.
As I walk through to the
kitchen, I know Elena is home by the music coming from the bathroom upstairs. I
search the fridge and take out the left-over vegetarian lasagna from last
night’s dinner. Once I re-heat it in the microwave, I sit at the kitchen table
and eat while flipping through today’s newspaper.
Elena walks in dressed in a fluffy
navy robe. Her shoulders hang low and her lips are softly curved up at the
corners. Gosh, I wouldn’t mind a relaxing bath, too, but I can’t with my new
tattoo. The idea of having my leg slung over the side of the tub doesn’t
exactly suggest relaxation to me.
My sister and I look like
our mom, only, my eyes are a lighter brown than theirs and my natural chestnut
colored hair, a match for mom’s, is darker than Elena’s blonde. Otherwise,
we’re the same. Oh, and mom’s taller at five-foot-five, I’m an inch under my
sister at Five-one. I’m not quite sure where our short asses come from. Dad
likes to blame the Irish side.
Elena’s eyelids pop wide the
moment she sees me. “Did you get them done?”
“Yeah,” I say, shifting my
foot out from under the table for her inspection. I peel back the bandage. Even
though the surrounding area is red and it looks kind of sore, I adore my tat.
She gasps. “It’s amazing.”
She lingers with astounded focus. After a few moments, her gaze rises to my
breasts.
“And?”
Grinning, I nod. I love my
pierced nipples, and so will Nick. My mom and my sister cringed at the thought
of pain, when I told them what I intended, but that was their only qualms. My
dad doesn’t know about them, and I plan on keeping it that way.
“Can I see?”
“Sure.” I put the bandage
securely back in place and stand up. After taking off my T-shirt, I lift up my
bra with care.
Elena stares at my new
additions. “I can’t believe you went through with it. Did it hurt much?”
“Less than I thought it
would, I was more scared than I needed to be. The tat hurt like a bitch, but I
kept in mind the things Nick said, like staying calm. Oh, do you remember that
collision I almost had a couple months back?” I cautiously put my underwear
back in place.
“Yes.” She nods, with her captivated
interest still remaining with my, now covered, chest.
“The guy was my piercer and
tattooist.”
“No way, are you serious?”
She meets my eyes now.
I nod. “What are the
chances? I had to strip in front of him, and he’s totally freaking hot. Beyond
hot, in fact.” She muffles her chuckle with her hand over her mouth. “It’s not
funny. I couldn’t decide what would be more embarrassing; chickening out, or
stripping for him.” Now I giggle with her. He knows what my tits look like.
“You make sure you don’t have
that dopey-eyed look when you show Nick.”
“What look?”
“You’re totally crushing on
the guy. There’s no harm in finding him cute, but don’t make it so obvious when
you show your boyfriend.”
“I’m not
crushing
on
him, I’m nuts about my man. I’m just telling you Joe was nice.”
She shrugs her shoulders.
“Whatever.”
I put my T-shirt back on and
sit at the table, while Elena gets a drink. I won’t mention that I hugged him.
Or that I touched his back. Glancing at the finger tips of my right hand, I
swear I can still feel him – the warm softness of his skin against mine. The
same thing happened after the
almost collision
. He grabbed my wrist when
he was on the ground, and that feeling of his hold stayed with me for days. How
weird is that?
Anyway.
“Su’s going back for hers, and
I’m getting another one.”
“I knew you’d get addicted.
Mom won’t be impressed, she said that would happen.” She sits on the chair next
to mine.