Page 15 of Spring Break Fling

“Because my work, I mean, it’s, uh—” I didn’t want to offend him. Any of them. I saw a few of the other tattoo artists looking at me. Waiting for me to say it.

“I have to look professional in my job,” I said.

He nodded, doing his best not to laugh. “You’re not going to offend me. Tats aren’t for everyone. Sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” Tara said. “She does.”

Nikko looked at me with those piercing eyes. “I need to hear it from you,” he said. His voice had dropped to that same husky tone he used last night.

I swallowed. “Yes. I want it.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I realized what it sounded like. My face was burning. He was looking at me like he did last night after he took my dress off.

“Okay then,” he said. “Jessie will get you guys the forms.”

“Forms?” Rachel asked, her lawyerly instincts kicking in.

“Yeah, to make sure none of you come back here and sue us because you changed your mind,” he said.

If only he knew how on target he was.

Rachel snorted. “A good lawyer would get around it if she wanted to.”

Nikko looked her up and down. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Guilty.” She grinned.

“Jessie, you got that one. Hannah, you’re with me. Your body is my canvas.”

He absolutely meant there to be innuendo in that comment. He walked to his station, waiting for me to follow.

“I hate all of you,” I muttered.

They all waved me on and settled onto the shop’s couch to wait for their turns.

I sat down in Nikko’s chair, my heart pounding as he prepped his equipment. I couldn’t help but watch the way his hands worked.

“You nervous?” he asked, glancing up at me.

“A little,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll take good care of you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I had to look away. The man was too much. I was pretty sure he said something similar last night. Did he say that to all the women?

“So, does it hurt?” I asked.

“You said you wanted it on your inner forearm?”

“Yes.”

“That place is a little more tender, but it’s not bad. If it’s too much, you tell me to stop.”

“With a half-finished tattoo?” I asked. “I think that would be worse than the pain.”

He grinned. “Which is why most people just tough it out.”

The first touch of the needle was sharp but not unbearable. I hissed through my teeth, telling myself it wasn’t that bad. Nikko’s hand came to rest on my thigh, grounding me.