Page 43 of Ink & Desire

“Yes?” I manage.

“You want to come along?” Corbin asks.

I nod quickly. “Yep. Coming.”

He gestures toward his station. “This way,” he tells Izzy.

For her part, she gives me an assessing look before turning to walk with Corbin. I can’t help but notice that he doesn’t introduce me to his friend. It’s just as well. She seems perfectly happy to keep her focus on Corbin and pretend I’m not there. So, I do my best to stay out of the way while Corbin sets up for Izzy’s tattoo. The two of them chat while he works. Well, Izzy chats while he mostly listens, nodding occasionally. She strikes me as the type of woman who likes to be heard. Happy to be the center of attention.

Izzy strips off her leather jacket while Corbin works and hangs it on the back of the chair. Leather? In the middle of a humid Boston summer? I’m not sure that makes the most sense, but who am I to argue with fashion? The jacket looks like it was custom made for her.Not to mention the white tank she’s wearing under it, or the jeans that look practically painted onto her ass.

“LA is so boring these days,” she says, resting her hand on Corbin’s forearm with a familiarity that can’t be mistaken. “I wish you’d come out to visit me. Liven things up again.”

Again?I file that tidbit away for later. I wonder if the two of them were once a couple. He doesn’t strike me as her type, but there’s no denying that they would make a gorgeous couple. She seems the type to be a little higher maintenance than Corbin would like, but what do I know? I grew up with rich parents and every convenience possible. Just because I do my best to steer clear of that life now doesn’t mean anything. I could have turned out just as high maintenance if certain things had gone differently for me.

Against my will, my gaze is drawn to the woman and the way she interacts with Corbin. There’s a familiarity there that I haven’t seen him have with anyone else. Maybe his sister, but that had been platonic. But this? This is something else entirely. I’m not sure I like it. There’s something almost predatory about the way Izzy watches him. And she couldn’t have been more dismissive of me if I were furniture. I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me feel inferior or not. If so, it’s not working. I’m annoyed, but it has nothing to do with her treatment of me and everything to do with the way she’s acting around my boss. Which pisses me off.

I have no reason to be bothered by Izzy and Corbin together. Not that they’re together. But if they ever were together, it’s none of my business. He can see who he wants to. I tell myself to ignore whatever strange emotion I’m feeling and focus on learning what I can from this tattoo session. It works for a while. Right up until the moment Izzy unzips her pants and exposes her perfect ass to the entire shop.

It’s not her ass that bothers me. It’s not even the fact that it’s definitely better than my ass. It’s thewayshe did it. She’d stood up so that her zipper was eye-level with Corbin’s face before slowly lowering the zipper, all without breaking eye contact. Then, she’d turned slowly around until her ass was in his face before working those skin-tight jeans down over her hips and ass. If she’d been wearing panties underneath, I missed them altogether.

“Lie down,” Corbin says, his voice slightly gruffer than normal. “Face down.”

If he hadn’t been talking to another woman, those words would have sent a shiver of something dark and sexy through me. But Izzy’s presence, coupled with her near nudity, succeeds in doing something I hadn’t thought possible. My attraction to Corbin has all but vanished. In its place is something closer to rage. It’s not anger I can justify, but I can’t seem to help it.

To his credit, Corbin immediately covers Izzy’s exposed ass as soon as she lies down. When he’s finished draping her, there’s only a patch of skin visible on herleft cheek about the size of a dollar bill. In the center of the exposed patch is a word.

“Since the letters are in black, I’ll need to use darker ink and shadowing to cover it,” Corbin says.

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me and not Miss-Perfect-Ass.

“Makes sense,” I say, studying the tattoo.

I can see now that it’s a name. ‘Rob’. I wonder who Rob was to Izzy. It’s clear that he’s not important to her anymore. Or at least not important enough to have his name on her ass anymore. I’ve never considered getting someone’s name tattooed on my body. I try to imagine someone being that important to me, but I fall short. I eye Corbin for a moment, my eyes trailing over the dozens of tattoos that cover his arms. I wonder how many tattoos he has. I wonder if he’s got someone’s name on him. Maybe Izzy’s? My annoyance makes a resurgence and I shake off that idea immediately.

I do my best to focus on what Corbin is doing and to ignore Izzy’s incessant talking. She’s barely taken a breath since she walked in the door. I know she’s a paying client, but damn the woman is annoying. I don’t know how Corbin can stand it. If I weren’t trying to learn from his techniques, I’d have abandoned this tattoo within the first few minutes.

I do my best to tune her out while Corbin talks me through what he’s doing and why. He’s a better teacher than I’d expected him to be when he first agreed to take me on. I hadn’t expected him to have the patience toexplain even the simple things to me. I’d assumed he’d get irritated with teaching me after the first few days, but the opposite has happened. He’s somehow become more patient as the days have passed. It’s almost like he’s settling into his role as my mentor just as I’ve settled into my role as his apprentice. There’s still that pesky jolt of awareness that happens whenever I’m near him, but I’ve almost gotten used to it. I still wish I could turn it off, but I’ll take the small win.

By the time Corbin finishes covering Rob’s name with a gorgeous jewel-toned butterfly, I’m beyond ready to get away from her. Her chatter finally died down somewhere around the second half hour of shading, which made me eternally grateful. Corbin stretches his fingers as Izzy stands to check out her ass in the mirror.

“You’ve been quiet,” Corbin says, pulling my gaze to his.

He looks almost amused, and I can only guess it’s because he’s thinking the same thing I am. That it’s impossible to get a word in around that woman. We don’t say anything, but a moment passes where I’m certain we’re both wishing we could.

“Did you have any questions about the technique?” he asks.

I shake my head, holding up my notebook where I’d been taking notes while he worked.

“I think I’m good for now,” I say. “Thanks.”

He nods. “No problem.”

“Do you need me to help clean up?”

“Nah,” he says. “Go see if Jessie needs help. I’ve got this.”

Nodding, I stand. “It was nice to meet you,” I say to Izzy.

---