Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement
Author's notes:
First and foremost, I would like to thank VENICEIT for accepting the offer to be both my muse and beta reader. In the process of writing 3 or 4 different stories, you definitely fueled me to focus, when the focus was lacking. It's not everyday that a person understands, evaluates and analyzes without losing sight of the overall picture. I write what I feel and I feel what I write. You have been a wonderful listener and supporter during the process. You don't hinder my creative side. For that, I thank you.
As always- thank you to the readers and reviewers.
Ilsa's Ink
She wasn't sure if she was ready for this. Ilsa Pucci, wife to a now deceaed billionaire, Miss Straight Laced and proper, was standing outside of a tattoo shop. In a million yeas, she couldn't see herself doing this. Not even in her rebellions teenage years. But now, here she stood, preparing to take the lunge. She looked over at Ames.
"Well Mrs. Pucci…your ready to do this?"
Ilsa took a deep breath. "I guess there's no turning back now."
Ames shrugged her shoulders. "You can always say no."
Ilsa straightened her spine and walked towards the door. "Let's go Miss Ames."
The two women walked into the shop and were immediately greeted by the owner.
"Ames, what's up?"
Ames ran over and hugged the man. "Hey Steve, how the hell are you?"
Steve hugged her back. He was a tall lanky man with scraggly facial hair. His t-shirt was vintage and his jeans had more holes in them then the finest Swiss cheese.
"Steve, this is the new client I was telling you about. It's her first time."
Steve walked over and shook Ilsa's hand. "Hey what's up, I'm Steve. Nice to meet you."
"Ilsa…nice to meet you as well Steve."
"Okay newbie, let's get you inked!"
Ilsa smiled and followed him into the store. She hadn't picked out a design yet, so she needed to spend time finding just the right one. Steve started showing her books of different designs. She was shocked at how many there were.
He looked up at her. "So, Ilsa where are you putting this puppy?"
She looked over at Ames. "Well, I was thinking somewhere that can be hidden under my clothing. Somewhere not so obvious. My lower back maybe?"
Ames gave her a wry smile. "Yea, um…about that. I don't know if you're aware…but..that location is a bit notorious."
Ilsa looked completely confused.
"It's called a tramp stamp."
Her eyebrows rose at that comment. "Oh….I see."
Steve took that opportunity to interject. "Ames wait. Look, some people have a problem with stepping away from societal norms and having their own independent thought process. But your friend here…well…doesn't seem like the trampy type. Nice taste in clothing, a very nice car…with a driver…so I doubt it very much."
Ilsa nodded in agreement. "Well I guess some people know a good soul when they see one. Your friend is quite intelligent. A tramp stamp it is."
They all had a good laugh. Ilsa needed it. She was still a bit nervous about this whole process. She continued browsing the tattoo books until she stopped and drew in a breath.
"Here is it."
Ames and Steve walked over to see her choice. It was a photo of three peacock feathers strategically entwined with one another. It was absolutely exquisite. It was tastefully drawn in a multitude of colors. Green, red, orange and yellow. But what caught Ilsa's eye were the edges highlighted in gold. She slowly ran her fingertips over the photo.
"That's the one Steve."
He smiled at her. For as long as he was a tattoo artist, he knew what made people happy. This made her happy. "Ok then. Let's get you prepped."
They walked back into the tattooing room. To Ilsa's surprise, it was more welcoming then her dentist or doctor's office. It was complete with a plasma TV and state of the art surround sound system. He had spared no expense.
Steve looked over to Ilsa who was taking in her surroundings. "Okay here's how it works. You basically lay on the table, turn on something you like, drop your drawers and I'll take care of the rest."
She smiled. "Will you be buying me dinner first?" He smiled back at her. She liked Steve. He was down to earth and that made her much more comfortable. She started feeling more relaxed and was confident in the process. Ames was flipping through the channels when Ilsa looked up.
"Miss Ames…BBC news please."
She rolled her eyes. "Fiiiiinnnne."
Ilsa was wearing a pair of yoga pants that she easily slid down. Steve directed her onto the table. She laid down on her stomach and eased her head into her hands. He started prepping his tools, then leaned down and spoke to her.
"Mrs. Pucci, I appreciate you coming in and trusting my talent and precision to complete your artwork. But before I begin are you sure you want to complete this process?"
She drew in a deep breath. "Yes, Steve…I'm ready."
He started working. For Ilsa, it was a mix of sharp pain and euphoric pleasure. She listened to the TV and the hum of the tattoo needle on her back. Before long, she fell asleep.
"…..sex. That should be good for now. Of course we could watch a movie or something and pretend like we spent quality time together."
Ilsa smiled up at Chance. She was wrapped in his arms underneath of a thick, warm blanket. They had spent the night together and done everything but sleep.
"Mr. Chance, you're too much."
He kissed her and smiled. "I wasn't too much last night. At least I didn't hear any complaints."
She rolled over to face him. "Well there's no reason to complain when you experience perfection."
His smile widened. "Well how bout I let you experience perfection before the sun comes up?"
"Mrs. Pucci…Mrs. Pucci."
Steve shook Ilsa slowly to wake her up. She moved herself from the table. Her back was tingling and sore, but not as bad as she thought. He led her to a room with three mirrors. She turned around and admired his work. The tattoo came out perfect. It flowed with her body as if it were a part of her. The feathers complimented her back muscles and wrapped around the edges of her waist.
Ames walked in. "So you like it? I think he did an awesome job."
"Miss Ames, it looks amazing. Steve you did a wonderful job."
Steve nodded to her. "I'm glad you like it." He covered the tattoo and explained to her how to care for it. Ilsa pulled out her checkbook and Steve just shook his head.
"No mam, on the house. Ames brings in some pretty cool company and it's not often I get to do some intricate work."
"Well thank you Steve. In that case a believe at least a tip is in order." She wrote a few things on the check and handed it to him.
"There you go. Thank you again."
When they left, Steve opened the check. It was written for one thousand dollars. In the memo is simply stated, "enjoy".
A few weeks had passed. Ilsa spent little time around the office until her tattoo was fully healed. She wasn't sure why she was hiding it from anyone. She had made the decision on her own. Ames was the only other person who knew. At least her and Steve. It made her feel emboldened. Not that she wasn't already, but this heightened it.
She knew that Chance would eventually learn of her new ink job. They shared a rich sexual appetite for one another and sometimes it was with the lights on. But he wasn't her father, so if he cared to pass judgment, then so be it.
She walked into the office and placed her briefcase on the desk. They had a meeting scheduled with new clients today. Ilsa was getting more and more involved with the team's operations. Chance however, only let her be involved when it didn't greatly endanger her. She didn't argue much with him. It was to her benefit to stay somewhat out of the picture. Simply because she enjoyed the fringe benefits of one particular coworker. From the first time they slept together, Chance made it clear that he would limit her time in the field when danger was higher than normal. The trade off…his bed. If she stayed away from the line of fire, he would share. Simple enough.
The new clients came in and started telling their story. Ilsa and Chance only half heard their issue because they were more interested in each other across the table. It was Winston who did all of the paperwork. After a few minutes passed Ilsa offered to get everyone a drink. When she stood up and turned, Chance noticed her back. He only caught a glimpse of it. He wasn't sure if it was part of the clothing or not, but everything the new clients were saying went through one ear and out the other. She came back with a bottle of scotch and sat down. When she looked back over at Chance, he was looking at her like she grew another head.
When the clients finally left. Winston looked over at Chance. "Well I'm going to head home and take a nap. My head hurts from listening all by myself."
Chance shrugged and gave him a convincing smile. "Sorry man, I was out of the zone."
"Sure you were. Mrs. Pucci, have a good day."
Winston went to the elevator and headed home. Before Ilsa could say anything, Chance stared hard at her. "Turn around."
She was caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
He put his hands on her waist and moved her around slowly. He didn't notice anything on her clothes that could have been what he had seen, so he started to slowly lift her shirt up. He spotted the top of her tattoo but couldn't see it completely. He gently pushed her skirt down until it completely revealed itself.
"What the hell is that?"
She turned her head and looked at him. "It's exactly what you think it is."
He turned her back around but didn't remove his hands. "When did you get it and when were you going to tell me about it?"
"I'm sure you would have noticed it. At some point."
"Well then, I guess I should get a full view of it shouldn't I?"
He stared at her and she didn't move. He started kissing her and she placed her arms around his neck. He ran his hands under her shirt and ran his fingers over the tattoo. He led her back into the conference room and was stopped when her back hit the table. He broke the kiss and stared hard at her again. "Mrs. Pucci, I am going to take advantage of you now. I hope you're okay with that."
She smiled back at him and gave a low purr.
"Take your shirt off Ilsa"
She obeyed him and removed her cream colored blouse.
Not one to back down from giving orders, "Your turn Mr. Chance."
She put her fingers underneath his shirt and slowly raised it up his body. The feeling of her nails on his skin made Chance inhale sharply. She lifted it up over his head and tossed it aside. He was drinking in her skin while she kept running her hands over his abdomen. He reached back and undid her skirt. He took his sweet time to unzip it and let it drop to the floor. This time is was Ilsa who broke the kiss.
"If this is going to be a fair game, then I think you need to lose the pants." Chance smiled at her and moved his hands to unbutton his jeans. She placed her hands over his to stop him. "Oh please sir….let me." She unbuttoned them with lightening speed, and before he could respond, his own pants were bundled at his ankles.
He stepped out and moved her onto the table. She slid back into the center to let him follow. He hovered over top of her. "Turn over." His request made her shudder. She rolled over onto her stomach. While she was moving around, Chance finally realized what she was wearing underneath of her all too attractive business attire.
He was so caught up in kissing her that he missed her matching black lace panties and bra. The panties were thin and small enough to be deemed a piece of cloth at best. In fact, they didn't even cover the tattoo. That was the next thing that caught his eye. It made him stop everything he was doing. He had a million things running through his mind. Why? Where? When? With who? He trusted Ilsa, and wasn't going to take this time to inquire about it. He was too caught up in her. He couldn't help himself.
Without a second thought he leaned down to kiss the tattoo. This made Ilsa arch her back instantly. Even with her sudden movement, he never removed his lips. He kissed it all over. From one side of the feather to the other. Her body was reeling in pleasure. He loved watching her squirm underneath of him. He wanted more. This time, he darted out his tongue over the intricate design. He traced it over the internal circles of the feathers and back out to the ends. He continued his kissing and licking assault up her back.
He stopped at the small of her back and spent an extended amount of time there. This made Ilsa arch her back again. When she did, he placed one arm under her stomach and lifted her partially off of the table. She raised her upper body against his chest. She felt him getting harder against her backside and instinctively ground against him. She couldn't find the words for what he was doing. All she could feel was the heat radiating from his mouth on her skin.
He kept assaulting her back with his mouth. His tongue met the lace of her bra and he traced the outline. When he got to her shoulder blades he made sure to go from end to end. On his oral attack to the other side, he stopped at her ear and whispered. "That is a very attractive tattoo. But I have to be honest. You getting a tattoo drives me absolutely wild. I would have never thought in a million years you would be so…rebellious." She attempted to steady her breathing but it was useless. She was powerless under him. When he finished he rolled her over.
She reached for his face and pulled him in for a kiss. "This is the part where you take advantage of me Mr. Chance."
He leered at her and took the lead. Reaching down, he made quick work or removing both her panties and his boxer briefs. He didn't know how long he could wait. Not to mention the fact that every moment from now he would have to think about that tattoo spread across her back.
With one last long lingering kiss, he lowered himself on top of her. The sex was nothing new for them. But taking her on the conference room table was. It was erotic and exhilarating for the both of them. It was extra naughty. They silently prayed that no one would walk in. Considering how wrapped up they were in each other they probably wouldn't notice.
They moved rhythmically together. A dance they were accustomed to. He kissed up and down her neck and she started breathing harder. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take him. Her back was grinding into the table with every thrust he made. She was sure she would be sore in the morning. But it was worth it. Before long, they were both breathing out of control.
"Ilsa…I can't hold on much longer…."
She pleaded to him. "Chance…yes..please….faster..don't stop..please!"
He moved faster at her request and it also sent him into oblivion. She followed closely behind and continued chanting his name. They rode out their orgasms together for what seemed like an eternity. When they finally came down from their high, Chance collapsed on top of her.
After catching his breath, he rolled beside her. "So….why did you get it?"
She looked over at him and smiled. "Well I had always wanted a great sexual encounter on my conference room table with a stunning man, who himself has tattoos."
He chuckled.
"The truth is that I have always wanted one. I made the decision with the help of Miss Ames and just decided it was something I would enjoy. I am now going down a different road in life, and sometimes people make changes to define that road."
Chance knew that she had changed. She had always had an independent mind and never took "no" for an answer. But now she had a different job in life altogether. She didn't forget her charity work, nor did she forget where she came from. What she did know was that she was happy with where her life was heading.
"Well Ilsa, I will always support and respect whatever decisions you make."
It was her turn to smile seductively at him. "Well in that case, I have decided that I want a repeat performance."
Chance tightly wrapped his arms around her. He didn't need her to ask again.
Winston walked into the conference room and threw his notebook down. It was going to be a long day of analyzing for the new clients. Especially since Chance wasn't much help at the meeting.
He walked around to his chair. Before he sat down, he noticed a black object resting in the center. He leaned down with his ink pen and pierced through it. When he raised it up, he realized that he was holding a pair of black lace panties. All he could do was shake his head and murmur under his breath.
"Absentee boss my ass."
A side note:
A woman who sports a tattoo on her lower back, in my opinion, doesn't have to be a tramp. I get so bugged by some societal norms. But then again, it usually takes some idiotic woman to ruin it for us all!
But that doesn't excuse the fact that I am still nervous about getting one!