Page 17 of Jackson
“So you just pretended youcouldn’t?”
He chuckled. We fell into a comfortable silence as we drank our beers. The beach had emptied and the only sound was the waves breaking on theshore.
“I love that sound,” Jacksonsaid.
“So do I. That and the sound of aheartbeat.”
He raised his arm and placed it around my neck, pulling me closer. My head rested on his chest. In one ear I could hear his heart, and the other, the sea. I placed my bottle on the floor and rested my hand on his stomach. My fingers bunched in his t-shirt.
“So tell me about this tattoo I’m getting? You’ll have to hold my hand,” Isaid.
“I think you deserve a butterfly. You’ve come out of your cocoon and you’re spreading your wingsnow.”
“That’s a lovely thought but you have to get one, too,” I said, with alaugh.
“Okay. Where do you propose I getmine?”
“You don’t have a great deal of space left. How far down do yoursgo?”
He chuckled, again. “All the waydown.”
I raised my head to look at him. “Not all the way down,surely?”
“No, not all the way down but pretty close. I’ve seen some people have their cock tattooed, can’t for the life of me imagine why,” hesaid.
As I settled back in his arms, I laughed out loud. “Got mine pierced, though,” headded.
“You’re kidding me? No way! Why would you dothat?”
“I’m told it gives a lot ofpleasure.”
“Jesus, Jackson. I don’t want to know anymore.” I did, fuck, I did! “What…what have you got there?” Iasked.
“A small bar, just on theunderside.”
“I can’t believe we’re having a conversation about your cockpiercing.”
“I guess we’d have to be pretty good friends to,” he replied. “I want a nipple piercingnext.”
“I’ll get my belly button done and you get your nipple,” Isaid.
“Deal, but back to the tattoo. Sit up for aminute.”
I did as he’d asked and he slid from the bed. He disappeared into his bedroom for a moment and then returned with a handful of pens. He knelt beside the bed and putting his fingers in the loops of my jean shorts, he pulled me down and closer. He pushed my t-shirt up and popped the button of my shorts, and then he slowly lowered them just a little. My heart hammered in my chest as he placed his hand on my stomach; his fingers traced an image he was seeing in hismind.
My skin goose bumped. His touch was so light that it tickled. He flipped off the lid from the pens and I noticed they weren’t your average felt-tips. The pens looked more like very fine paintbrushes. He didn’t look at me as he drew. The brush tickled more, and once or twice, he tutted at me as my body involuntary drew away from the pen. I stifled agiggle.
“Keep still,” hemumbled.
“I’m trying but ittickles.”
I watched the concentration on his face and felt the heat from under the hand that was still splayed on my stomach, just below my navel, and so very close to where I really wanted him to be. I rested my head back and waited. Once or twice he scrubbed at my skin to erase before continuing. After what seemed like an age, he sat back on his heels and smiled at me. He stood and held out his hand. He led me to my bedroom and stood behind me as I studied his artwork on my stomach in themirror.
In line with my hip, and just under my navel, was the most beautiful butterfly I’d ever seen. The colours were vibrant and it was if it had been done in three dimensions. It looked like it was real and about to fly from mybody.
“Oh, wow, Jackson, I love it. I don’t know what to say. It’sbeautiful.”
I looked at his reflection in the mirror. He was close and his smile was broad. There was a change to hisface.
“This is going to seriously hurt,” hewhispered.
“Pain is good sometimes, if something so beautiful comes out ofit.”
I wasn’t sure exactly what it was I’d said but he took a sharp intake of breath, and I saw him swallow hard. He held my gaze; there was something in his eyes. He looked at me as if I’d recognised something in him, but I had no idea the significance of what I’d said. I wasn’t even sure if it was my words that had his eyes darken, his eyelids partlyclose.
I watched him blink a couple of times before his features relaxed and he smiledagain.
“I’m glad you like it,” he said. He took a step back. “I need to crash, I’ll see you in themorning.”
He placed a kiss to the top of my head and walked away. I stared at the butterfly, the wings were spread, shades of blues and greens adorned its body, and I noticed what made it look three-dimensional was the shading of black underneath. I gently touched it to see if it was dry. I didn’t want to smudgeit.
