Page 25 of Shattered

“Bitch.”

After my shirt is off, he grabs it from my hand, tosses it across the room, and it lands on the floor. Then he comes at me with the stencil, his movements fierce. Once the stencil is on, he peels the paper away. I can see now why he needed my shirt off. The tiger is centered on my chest, just beneath my breasts over my rib cage. Its back end is just slightly between them, and the tail threads up between my breasts. Just the top will peek up when I wear lower-cut shirts.

“Black and gray?” he asks.

“Yeah. How do you like my house? I decorated it just for you.”

“Just like you decorated my hand last night?”

Bane huffs. “Would you two shut up? I can’t hear myself think.”

Asher smirks, lowering his voice when he speaks to me again. It’s potentially the first serious thing he’s said to me with no bullshit. “Check the placement in the mirror while I prep. Make sure you like the position.”

Standing up and walking into the open with no shirt on feels weird. To my great relief, Bane pays me no attention as I approach the mirror. Neela’s closed eyes open, and she glances up at my face with concern, purposely ignoring my tits. I nod to reassure her.

Asher doesn’t scare me. I can handle him.

After I pick up my shirt off the floor, I return to the chair and settle in, placing the shirt in my lap. A moment later, Asher joins me.

“How’s the placement?” he asks, perfectly professional.

Despite how much I fucking hate his guts, I actually love the placement. I’ve never wanted to get a tattoo, but this looks so cool that I can’t say I’m not excited. “It’s perfect.”

That’s when his professionalism dissolves, the moment gone, and I know he’ll taunt me for as long as this tattoo takes. He grabs my shirt off my lap and biffs it across the room again.

“Hey!” I blurt.

“I don’t need you trying to cover up the whole time. Think you can keep your tiny tits out for a couple of hours?”

I scoff. “Do you think you can shut up about my tits?”

“If you can’t handle me making fun of your tits, you can’t handle the pain of a tattoo.”

“That makes NO sense. But by all means, continue if you must.”

He dips the needle tip in black ink and finally approaches my body. He starts with the tiger’s tail, and he rests both his hands directly on my tits. Whether he actually needs to do that, I don’t know.

But I hate that my body reacts to him.

I practically hold my breath as Asher starts the tattoo, and it does hurt. It feels like a sharp needle being dragged across a sunburn. I can’t completely hide the pain on my face, but I’m able to downplay it. At the same time, the feeling of the side of his hand brushing against my nipple as he moves the machine makes it pebble beneath his skin. He uses his other hand to anchor my skin to keep it still. To my disbelief, he stretches his thumb to my other nipple, brushing against the tiny bud until it begins to grow.

“You should be wearing a padded bra if you want to find another husband before your womb dries up. They’re gonna be disappointedwhen they find out you have tiny tits, so you’ll have to make up for that in other ways.”

“Asher!” Neela snaps as red blooms across my cheeks. The humiliation burns.

He removes the machine from me just long enough to roll his eyes at her, and it gives me a reprieve from the pain. But only for a moment. Of course, he opens his mouth again.

“She’s right. I should probably stop talking. I wouldn’t want you to get too turned on and leave a wet spot on my chair.”

“ASHER!” Bane snaps.

He chuckles.

We bicker a little more as he gets started, but after a while, we both fall silent, him in focus and me trying to brunt through the pain. I’ve never felt anything like it. For the first five minutes, I was worried about what I’d gotten myself into. The pain was so sharp, and it took everything I had to hold a straight face because I refused to wince in front of him. After a while, my body was washed with bliss. The pain felt a little less, and it became tolerable.

Asher made true to his promise that the appointment wouldn’t be professional. I watch him as he works, and though he mostly ignores me, I notice that he takes any opportunity he can to brush against my bare breasts. He uses them as armrests whenever he can, and I try not to let it get to me. He’s so close, hovering over my exposed body, and I can feel the heat pouring off him. His plain grey T-shirt hugs him in all the right places, showing off his broad chest and thick arms covered in cohesive black and grey tattoos. His right arm is covered in greenery and tall, thin cedar trees with a full moon. Anenormous snake takes over his left arm, winding and tangling around him in layers. The head is near his elbow, poised to strike.

My tattoo takes a lot longer than expected. I end up in that chair for over three hours, powering through the pain. Neela’s tattoo is finished about an hour into mine, and while she stays with me, Bane leaves. Neela’s quiet, and I tell her she can go if she wants, but she stays.

---