Thank you for your continued interest in my stories.
Standard disclaimer.
Marley and I walked to the bagel shop across the street, where we ordered coffees and sandwiches.
She only nibbled on a few crumbs...she was so nervous.
"It's small, and it'll be over before you know it," I said, trying to reassure her. "And it's going to look so cool. You'll be happy you finally got it."
My cell buzzed with a message and my stomach clenched, with the anticipation of Sam texting me.
I looked at my phone and saw it was Quinn.
Quinn: Did she do it?
Me: She's about to.
Quinn: Tell the bitch I said good luck.
Me: Will do.
"Quinn says good luck," I said, leaving off the bitch part.
It was such a common term of endearment connecting the three of us, Marley had probably added it, in her own head automatically.
"If Quinn were here, I bet she'd have no qualms about getting that huge tattoo on her back, that she's always talked about," Marley said, snorting.
"God, I envy you guys sometimes."
"Envy us...for what?" I asked, biting my bagel.
"For just letting loose and going with the flow."
"Um, obviously, you haven't gotten my latest memo," I said around a mouthful. "I haven't been able to let loose and go with anything lately. Not even with Brody."
"You had an amazing, orgasmic weekend with Sam, and now he's ruined you for other guys. Don't even try denying it. See what Hot Boy's done?"
"Oh, I see it every night, when I'm lying in bed alone. Or should I say, feel it."
"It's not so bad, having the same guy in your bed every night. You should try it some time," she said, and I scrunched up my nose.
"In fact, I'll have me some Jake tonight. Can't wait to surprise him with my new tattoo."
"You'll for sure get some tonight."
My phone buzzed on the table and I felt that familiar pull in my belly.
Sam: I'm ready for you.
Damn! If my heart didn't leap at those words. And certain other parts of me, too.
Me: Are you now?
Sam: I am. Are you?
Me: I've been ready. See you in five minutes.
"What's the goofy grin for?" Marley asked.
"I don't have a goofy grin. C'mon, Sam's waiting."
"I doubt he's waiting for me."
"Whatever."
"You may not want to admit this, dickhead, but you're already in deep," Marley said, following me to the door.
"You haven't picked up any other guys, since you met Sam."
"Then I guess, it's time to change that." My words sounded about, as hollow, as my determination.
"Whatever you say, bitch," she said, swinging around me, to push through the exit. "You're coming to the clambake at the frat house this weekend, right?"
"Absolutely," I chirruped.
We stepped inside Raw Ink, and receptionist Holly motioned for us to head to the back.
Sam wore black plastic gloves and was fiddling with his tools, as if he were about to perform a sexy experiment.
The longing in his eyes upon seeing me, told me all I needed to know, about whether he still thought about our weekend together, or not.
"Lie back in this seat and get comfortable," Sam said.
Marley folded herself into a black leather chair, that reminded me of something from a dentist's office.
Then, Sam pulled a lever, to make a footrest pop up.
"There you go."
After he'd set up his work area, he picked up the transfer paper, rubbed a light layer of ointment on her ankle, placed the transfer paper on her skin, and pressed down.
I realized again, just how intimate this type of procedure could be.
When I got my tattoo, the girl was totally professional. And I expected nothing less from Sam.
So, why were my palms sweaty, just watching how his fingers delicately braced my best friend's leg?
"What do you think?" Sam asked Marley, once the transfer was complete.
This drawing was even better than the sample he'd sketched for us, at the table.
He had taken more time to make it shine, obviously. Marley beamed.
"I think it's awesome."
"Cool," Sam said, and then looked at me. "How about you, Ms. Jones? Do you approve?" His eyes became hooded, and I crossed my legs in response.
"Looks good, Mr. Evans."
"Enough with the formality, you two," Marley said. "Unless this is some sort of Regency-era, sexual fantasy being played out."
I flipped her off and Marley rolled her eyes.
"Now get over here, bitch, I need you," she said. Sam looked down at his tools, the tips of his ears turning red.
"You can pull up a chair, Mercedes," he softly said. Marley practically wrenched my arm from its socket, as Sam raised the tattoo gun.
"One word of caution. If you need a break or feel light-headed, give me a warning, so I can remove the needle before you bolt out of your chair," he said.
The look on Marley's face was now one of sheer terror.
"Aww, Marley. It'll feel like teeny prick marks, and then you'll get used to it," I said. "Squeeze my hand if you need to."
As Sam positioned the needle, Marley grabbed onto my hand, like she was having freaking contractions or something.
"There we go. It'll be over before you know it," Sam spoke to her in a soothing voice.
I bit down on my lip, because, my hand was being clutched so tightly, my knuckles were turning ashen.
Marley squirmed initially, but held it together after that.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head upward, just waiting for it to be all over.
I enjoyed watching Sam work, watching how he licked his lips and slanted his head in deep concentration.
His hands were accurate, yet tender.
He also hummed a tune so low, that I couldn't decipher if it was a made-up song or not.
The low vibration from his voice, mixing with his soft breaths, created a path of goose bumps down the center of my body and a soft tickle between my legs.
"You okay?" Sam rubbed excess ink from a section of Marley's skin, with a wet paper towel.
"Hanging in there," she squeaked out. "It feels less painful, than it did at the beginning."
"Good. I finished the outline, so now you can take a breather, while I change needles, to do the shading. This time will feel different…a little better."
Marley puffed out a breath and opened her eyes.
She let go of my hand and I shook it out.
"Shit, you dickhead. Remind me not to be in the room, if you ever go into labor."
Sam's back was turned, and I heard him chuckle, while he prepped his next set of tools.
When he twisted back around, his gaze bonded to mine, like it was the glue holding me together.
"So, have you decided what you're going to let me ink on you?" he asked.
"I haven't given it much thought," I said, trying to tear my eyes away from his hold.
"No? Hmm...I've got some ideas."
"Listen, you two can grope each other after I'm done," Marley said. "But right now, I need you to finish my tattoo."
"Knock it off, asshat." I gave her knee a firm shake.
"There will be no groping," Sam said, and came towards her with the needle again.
I watched him work again, but tried to tone my breathing down.
Our attraction was becoming way too obvious.
"All finished," he announced, several minutes later. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marley's eyes glowed with admiration.
"It was worth the pain. I love it so much."
"It looks great, Marley," I said. I mouthed a thank-you to Sam, and he winked, sending butterflies fluttering through my stomach.
"Let me give you our aftercare instruction sheet. Don't take the directions lightly," he said, placing ointment and a Band-Aid over the tattoo.
"Follow them to the letter. You don't want to mess around with getting an infection."
Marley stood on shaky legs, and I helped her get her footing.
I slipped into the hall behind Sam, but stopped to admire a framed tattoo, when I felt a pair of arms slide around my hips. Then, Matt's low voice.
"Hey there, sexy girl…are you back for more?" I cringed. Sam whipped around, shock registering over his features. I pushed Matt's hands from my waist.
"Hey, Matt. Just here for moral support. My friend got a tattoo from Sam."
"Yeah?" Matt looked at Marley, as she stood before Holly at the front desk. "She hot, too?"
"She's got a boyfriend," I said and took a step away.
Sam's jaw was set so tightly, I found it hard to look anywhere but the floor.
Normally, I gave it back to grabby guys and could tell them where to shove it, but something about Sam hearing this private conversation, made my ears blaze and my stomach ball into a hard knot.
"I know for a fact, that you don't do boyfriends, sexy girl," Matt drawled in my ear. "So, we can go at it again tonight, if you're free."
"Stop, Matt." Now smoke was pouring out of my ears. "I'm just here for my friend. Nothing else."
"Hey, Matty, you don't give all our female clients this hard of a time, do you?" Sam asked, a tight smile on his face.
I could tell he was trying to joke with his boss, but there was a serious underlying tone to his question.
"Of course not, Sam," Matt said, straightening up and taking a step back.
"C'mon, Mercedes," Sam said through gritted teeth. "Let's get your friend checked out."
Sam avoided eye contact with me after that.
Like, he was disappointed, by the very idea of me having had a one-night stand, with his boss.
Or maybe, even disgusted by it.
And I was ticked.
Fuck him.
He didn't have the right to make me feel that way.
When Marley waved, as she went out the door and Sam turned back toward the hallway, I had the feeling this might be our final good-bye.
Stay safe, stay home and stay blessed.