Page 31 of Joyride
I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I had been holding. “Keep talking. That might help.”
“Your sternum is an intimate spot for a tattoo. What made you decide you wanted it there,” I ask her.
“I saw some other women’s tattoos in the same spot and thought they were stunning. It’s also a spot that no one will see it unless Iwantthem to see it,” I tell him.
“Yours will most definitely be the best one I’ve tattooed or even seen,” he says. My cheeks heat up. I’ve always been extremely comfortable around Sketch but being around him topless, that’s a whole other level. Aside from his drunken kiss, this is the most intimate we’ve ever been. I wouldn’t want anyone else doing my tattoo.
“Tell me about you and Mad Max. I mean . . . Luke.” I’ve gotten so used to calling him what everyone else calls him in such a short time. Sketch applies more vaseline. With as much as he’s wiped at the tattoo, cleaning up blood and ink, the vaseline gets wiped away, too. It’s soothing when he adds more.
“He’s got you calling him that now, too, huh?”
“Yeah. I use all their nicknames. It’s the same as with you and Shade, so it doesn’t phase me,” I admit. “It’s honestly a lot like being at the clubhouse, only they all do tattoos all day.”
Sketch chuckles. “What you’re saying is, they’re a bunch of assholes, too.”
“Pretty much.” I giggle. Talking really helps drown out the stinging of the needle. I’m even more thankful for Sketch tattooing me because conversation comes so easy for us. It always has.
“Luke is my brother. Well, we are foster brothers,” he tells me.
“In all the conversations we’ve had, you never mentioned you were ever in a foster home or that you had any siblings.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I’ve never been very good at talking about myself.”
“I’ve come to realize that.”
“I’ll work on it,” he says. “How have you liked working here so far?”
“Honestly? I love it. They’re assholes, but they’re nice assholes.”
Sketch stops tattooing, laughing. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Sure it does.” I giggle. He starts the tattoo gun again. “Have you met my brother? Or any of the other Savage Menaces and Riders?”
“Okay, okay. I get it.” His sexy grin sits across his face. My nipples harden against the pasties. I close my eyes, attempting to think of anything else.
We talk about random things. New movies, music, TV shows. We stop halfway through for a lunch break, ordering something off Food Dash. After we eat, it’s another two and a half hours before he finishes my tattoo.
“Alright, gotta clean it one last time and then you can check it out.” Sketch grabs a couple fresh paper towels, squirts them with green soap and wipes my tattoo off. He holds his hand out, helping me up. I stand in front of the mirror, staring at the tattoo in awe.
“Sketch, it’s even better than I imagined it would be,” I gush.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? I fuckingloveit.”
Shock crosses his face. “Did you just cuss?”
Heat rises in my cheeks. “Maybe,” I mumble.
“I never thought a cuss word could be cute. Coming out of your mouth, it sure as hell is.” Sketch laughs. “Mind if I take a picture of it before we wrap it up?”
“Sure.” I move to stand in front of him. There’s a hitch in his breathing. He clears his throat, reaching for his phone.
“Stand back a couple inches.” He’s holding his phone up, and I take a step back. “Perfect.”
After he takes a picture, he turns his phone around for me to see. He cut out as much of my boobs as he could.
“Mind if I use this in my portfolio,” he asks.
