Page 3 of Challenged By the Ex-Military Tattoo Artist

As the needle meets her skin, Maria sucks in a sharp breath. I pause, giving her a moment to adjust to the slight pinprick sensation.

"Still with me?" I ask, my voice a low rumble.

She nods jerkily, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Yeah, just...wasn't expecting that."

"Don't tense up," I remind her gently. "Breathe through it."

Maria forces herself to exhale slowly, and I take the opportunity to study her features once more. A light dusting of freckles spans the bridge of her nose, standing out against her fair skin.

The steady buzz of the gun fills the air as I continue working, my motions sure and practiced. Maria's grip on the armrests slowly relaxes, the crease in her brow smoothing out.

"So," she speaks up after a few minutes. "Who told you about my little storage room being available?"

I pause briefly to wipe away a trickle of excess ink.

"The girl who works at the bakery next door. Jenna, I think her name was?"

A surprised laugh escapes Maria's lips.

"Of course it was Jenna. She's my best friend - been pestering me to rent out that space for months."

"Lucky for me, she's a persistent one," I reply with a small smirk. "This arrangement is working out nicely so far."

A faint blush tinges her cheeks at my words, and I resist the urge to reach out and trace that lovely flush with my fingertips.

"Almost done," I murmur instead, tilting her wrist to better access the final details. "You're being incredibly still for your first time. Most people can't help but fidget a bit more."

There's that blush again, deepening as she realizes the unintentional double meaning. Rather than call attention to her flustered state, I simply continue my measured strokes until the last line is perfectly etched into her creamy skin.

"And we're all done," I announce, swiping over the area with another coating of ointment. "What do you think?"

Maria blinks her eyes open, glancing down at the simple yet delicate black butterfly now adorning her wrist. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

"It's beautiful," she admits softly. "Thank you! Were you always a tattoo artist? Or did you have a different career before this?" Maria asks, still admiring the fresh ink on her wrist.

I pause, considering how much I want to reveal. In the end, I decide a little honesty can't hurt.

"Actually, I was in the military before this. Did a few tours overseas."

Her eyes widen in surprise, "Wow, I never would have guessed. That's quite a shift - going from the military to tattoo artistry."

Chuckling dryly, I nod.

"Yeah, it's about as opposite as you can get. But you'd be surprised how well the skillsets can transfer."

"How so?" She leans forward, clearly intrigued.

"Patience, precision, ability to stay focused for hours at a time." I tick off the shared qualities on my fingers. "Not to mention dealing with rules, regulations, handling equipment carefully. Plenty of overlapping traits between the two fields."

Maria considers this for a moment.

"I guess I never thought about it that way, but you make a fair point. Though I imagine the subject matter is vastly different from what you dealt with in the military."

"You've got that right," I agree with a wry smirk. "Swapping things that go boom for things of beauty has been an...interesting adjustment, to say the least."

"Beauty and ink seem to suit you just fine from where I'm sitting," she remarks offhandedly, then immediately flushes as if regretting the compliment.

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