Page 44 of Playing with Forever
She slid into the car, still grinning at me. “Hey, you. Good day?”
“Boring,” I admitted. “Yours?”
“Boring, as well.” Andrea laughed. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“It is.” At least under these circumstances.
Once she had her seatbelt secured, I pulled away from the curb and brought uppartof my idea to her. “I was actually wondering…I’ve been wanting to touch up the shading on one of my tattoos on my arm. Want to come with me?”
Andrea’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that, actually. I’ve wanted to ask you about them but…I know it can be personal.”
The way she just automatically respected my boundaries and understood how private I was, was part of why I wanted to let her in, in a way I hadn’t allowed anyone else, no matter how attracted I might have been to that person.
“Actually, I’d like to tell you about them sometime,” I said, meaning it. “You want to grab a bite to eat and we’ll head over to his shop?
She nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds good to me.”
We stopped for a quick burger at a fast food joint, then headed to Stained Skin, the tattoo shop that my friend, Mike, owned. He’d inked all of my recent tattoos, and definitely all of my more elaborate ones. I’d met him at The Players Club while we were both getting a drink in between play sessions. I’d been shirtless at the time, and Mike had commented on one of my existing tattoos. We’d chatted, and when I wanted a bigger piece of artwork, something that required a lot of detail, I’d called him up.
It helped that Mike was a club member. He understood me, and what I enjoyed. More precisely, he understood what pain did to me, and there was no judgement for it because he was a bit of a sadist himself.
Andrea looked around the tattoo parlor with interest when we entered, staring at the various examples of art on display.
“You interested in something?” I asked Andrea after I’d checked in with Heather, the young woman who manned the front of the shop.
I knew she had the one tattoo. I’d never asked about the meaning, although she’d explained it to me after she’d gotten the flower delivery. Another reason I suspected her ex-boyfriend. He’d know about her tattoo and the meaning behind it as well.
“Maybe,” Andrea admitted, staring at the old school designs in fascination. “I really love tattoo art, those kinds of vintage styles.”
I remembered the vibrant, traditional art prints hanging up in the home she shared with Violet. “Wait, are those your prints that are up in the house?”
“What? Oh, yeah.” Andrea grinned, realizing what I meant. “Did you think those were Violet’s?”
“They seem her style.”
“I can’t blame you, considering her vintage and Rockabilly fashion choices. But no, actually, those are mine. Violet likes classical art, early 20thcentury stuff. The Monet and Van Gogh prints are hers.”
My mind was blown. “Seems like both of you are full of surprises.”
“Aren’t we just?” Andrea winked at me.
Speaking of surprises, I knew exactly what was going to happen with this tattoo—not just the shading, but Andrea’s part in it, and those wicked thoughts filtering through my mind already had me on edge in the best way possible. My cock twitched seeing her so playful and coy with me, because I was about to push her boundaries again. See what she was really up for.
“Chase!” Mike emerged from the back, a big and burly guy who was actually taller and broader than me. “Good to see you!”
“You, too.” I gave him one of those “bro” handshakes then introduced him to Andrea.
Mike grinned after she greeted him. “Damn, you picked a gorgeous one this time.”
“Oh, am I the latest?” Andrea teased me, but I definitely saw a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.
The last thing I wanted her to think was that anyone else had ever shared somethingthisintimate with me. “I’ve never brought someone with me when I’ve been inked before,” I told her, and saw her visibly relax, and her facial features soften. “Mike’s a member at The Players Club.” Which accounted for his comment because he’d seen me with many women there.
“Oh, I see, well, maybe we’ll run into you there.” Andrea gave him a sassy smile and she looked confident again, much to my relief. She’d need to be confident for what I had in mind.
I exchanged a look with Mike that he clearly understood, because he led us to the furthest room in the back. Small, but private and insulated. Perfect.
“Have a seat,” he said, indicating the black leather chair. “Heather had you down for some added shading on your right bicep, is that right?”
