Clarity - Nicole Dykes Page 0,12
to fuck you.”
She doesn’t flinch. Not even a little bit. Instead she laughs easily. “Good to know, but I really do want a tattoo first. I’ve looked like a damn Barbie doll my entire life.” She shrugs, and I almost smile at that because she’s not wrong. She definitely resembles the doll but with a serious edge. “I might as well be Badass Barbie.”
And I know she added the “first” to let me know she definitely wants to fuck me. She makes it easy for me. Easy is something I've never really had. My entire life has been layered with complicated.
“Private room?”
She nods her head. “Of course.”
I lead the way and leave the door open. I don’t want her getting any crazy ideas. I’m not fucking her in my place of work.
Only above it.
She takes her jacket off and then lifts her shirt off, leaving her completely bare. “Fuck.” I close the door, and she laughs and sits down in the chair, settling back.
“Jesus, do they have to be leather seats? That’s fucking cold.”
“Then put your shirt back on,” I growl as I sit on the stool next to the chair and try my best to remain professional.
Don’t look at her tits.
“I can’t. I want my tattoo right here . . .” She points to her side right next to her right breast.
“You can leave your shirt on. Or you could have worn a bra.”
She just shrugs. “Don’t get all shy on me now, Rhys. You’ve seen it all before.”
Every fucking time I close my eyes.
“This is my job.”
She gives me a no-nonsense look. “Then do your job.”
It’s going to be difficult with my dick trying to escape my jeans, but I guess I should thank her for the hard-on. Seems my dick is used to her now. Not only that, it wants to fucking own her.
“What tattoo?”
“A rose.”
I tilt my head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. She doesn’t seem like a flower girl. I can’t tell you how many flowers I've tattooed onto chicks.
She just shrugs, totally unbothered by my judgment. “Beauty and the Beast was my favorite movie growing up. So, sue me.”
My eyes lock on hers and she sucks in a surprised breath as if connecting some dots I'm not aware of. “I’ve never seen it.”
Now she’s looking at me like I’m a fucking freak, and yeah, maybe I am. I was nearly an adult before I had my own television, and believe me, I wasn’t watching Disney. “Never?”
“Never. I know what it is though. Disney,” I grunt with disgust.
Her eyes roll. “Yes. Disney, and don’t fucking give me that look like I'm a little princess watching silly cartoons. Anyone who grew up watching Disney will tell you that’s the most depressing shit you’ll ever watch. Almost downright depraved.”
I show her several roses, and she picks one. “Depraved? Disney?”
Again, with the fucking rolling of her eyes. “Yes. Beauty and the Beast. The Beast was a beautiful, spoiled prince who had a spell cast on him, turning him into this hideous beast. And the Beauty? She was this sweet, innocent little bookworm, a dreamer who traded herself for her father when the Beast held him captive.” I start to work as she continues, not flinching at the needle. “And of course, at first, she’s totally repulsed by him and afraid, but then she gets Stockholm syndrome and falls completely in love with him.”
“With her captor.”
She nods her head. “Totally. I mean, the dude did have a kickass library and talking furniture. So, I get it.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
She laughs. “But when they fall for each other. When she loves him, seeing the good inside him, that’s when he turns into the hot prince again. But it’s pretty fucked-up.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Definitely. And then Snow White? I mean, holy fuck. Her stepmother tries to have her murdered because Snow White is prettier than her. Then she shacks up with seven dudes until she’s poisoned, and the only thing that can bring her back is a kiss from a prince.”
“Sounds fucking stupid.”
“Oh, for sure,” she agrees and laughs again. “Honestly, all Disney did was teach little girls that a prince would come and rescue them someday, which is definitely fucking stupid. They never tell you that princes really just want to stick their dick in you until they get bored.”
I stare at her, and her eyes widen as they meet mine. I don’t think she meant to get so deep. And I'm definitely uncomfortable as she shifts in her seat. “Stay still.”
She