Friday, August 17, 2012

Ink Lust ~ an excerpt

The continuation right after the formal excerpt:

“Ready, Freddy,” he said, gesturing to the small rolling table at his right.
He’d already set everything up before she’d arrived. All of his supplies stood ready like neatly organized soldiers. Colored inks in little bottles that made her think of grade school art class stood in a line at the back of the sterile covered table. The spray bottle of skin cleanser and the tattoo gun were both already wrapped with plastic to protect both her and the machine. The stencil he’d apply to her side and use as a guide had already been prepped and was taped to the edge of the table.
All she had to do now was take off her shirt.
“All right.” He held his hands palm up and made come-on motions with his fingers. “Let’s see ’em.”
Her eyebrows went up and her mouth went dry.
“Kidding.” He smirked, rotating on the stool to face the opposite wall.
“Does that ever work for you?” she asked, turning her back to him even though she was sure he wasn’t looking.
Cripes, she didn’t know why she was being so modest. How many times had she thought about showing him her tits, and the newish nipple rings she now wore with pride? Between the heavy gauge earrings he had in both ears and the rumored Prince Albert, she knew he’d like them, maybe admire and—please, please, please, oh please—want to touch them. Not like Aaron the Asshole Hypocrite, who was both pierced and fairly heavily tattooed, but hadn’t “allowed” Leni to do either for herself.
The nipple piercings had been a gift from Jo to celebrate her finally leaving Aaron three months earlier. She wanted to show them to someone, damn it.
No, she thought as she pulled her shirt off, she wanted to show them to Jamie.
“Now that you mention it, it rarely works on the women I want it to,” he answered.
She gave him a look over her shoulder but he missed it. His back was still to her.
“I’m sure you don’t have the slightest trouble getting women to take their shirts off for you.”
“Again with the emphasis on the right women.” He looked at her finally and won himself lots of points for looking right at her eyes without detouring to her chest even though she was standing there in nothing but her bra.
She unhooked it when he looked away again and tossed it next to her purse, covered her chest with her shirt and bravely faced him.
“Ready,” she announced. 


© Jayne Kingston 2012

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