she was feeling.
His warm fingers slid across the back of her shoulder and hooked under the shoulder strap of her bra. He slid it down her arm and she tried not to shiver at his touch. He pressed the stencil against her skin before carefully peeling it away. He picked up a large hand mirror and stepped in front of her, holding it up so she could see her back in the full-length mirror.
“What do you think of placement?”
“It looks good.”
“Too big?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she said.
“You sure?”
She nodded. It actually looked exactly the right size and she was a little amazed by Preacher’s ability to gauge the correct size. “I like it.”
“Let’s get started then.”
“How much?” she said.
He paused. “What?”
“How much for the tattoo?”
“Hundred,” he said.
She had been prepared to pay a lot more and was already planning in her head exactly how long she’d have to eat ramen to pay for this little moment of madness. “That seems too low.”
“It isn’t.”
She crossed to the couch, incredibly aware of the fact that she was in just her jeans and a spectacularly ugly beige bra and grabbed her wallet from her purse. “Should I pay you now?”
“It doesn’t matter. You can pay me after if you prefer.”
“I’ll do it now.”
His crooked little grin was weirdly sexy. “No refunds if you hate it.”
She smiled at him. “I’m sure I won’t hate it.”
He ran her card through and printed her a receipt that she stuffed into her purse. He walked away to his station and after a moment, she followed him. She studied the tattoo bed as he pulled a rolling chair out from the under the drawing table and brought it to the station.
“Can you straddle this?” he said.
“Yes.” Holding the back of the chair to keep it steady, she straddled it and tried not to flinch when Preacher sat on the stool behind her and she felt his warm breath on her back.
“What colour would you like?”
“Pink,” she said. “I like pink. Is that too, um, girlie, do you think?”
“It’s your body and your ink,” he said.
“Right. Pink it is then.”
It took him another twenty minutes to set up his equipment. He showed her the needles he would be using, all of them still encased in their new wrapping before pulling on gloves.
“This is my first tattoo,” she said.
“Yeah, I figured. Are you afraid of needles?”
“No, why?”
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“Just nervous. I’m not worried about the pain or anything though.”
He was silent behind her and she nearly jumped out of her skin when his gloved hand traced over her lower back. “You need to relax, Sunshine. I can’t tattoo you if you’re shaking like this.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s fine,” he said. “If you don’t want this, it isn’t too late to change your mind.”
“I want this.”
Preacher continued to rub her lower back. His touch was soothing and after a few minutes, she was feeling much calmer and more in control.
“Better?” he said.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good. I have some tequila I could give you if you want a shot to calm your nerves further.”
She laughed. “Probably not a good idea. I’m a cheap drunk.”
His low chuckle sent a zing of heat to her core. “No tequila then. I have a rule about not tattooing my clients when they’re drunk.”
“Good rule,” she said.
He stroked her back a final time before rolling closer. “Here we go. Ready?”
She nodded and took a deep breath as the tattoo gun buzzed to life.
Chapter Seven
Preacher was impressed with his little schoolteacher. It was an hour later, and he was almost finished with the tattoo. Her soft skin was bright red, and it was obvious that it was becoming more painful, but she hadn’t complained once or asked for a break. He wiped at her skin and she made a soft hiss of pain.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m just being a wimp.”
He traced his finger down her spine, liking the way it made goose bumps rise on her skin. “I’m almost done.”
“O-okay,” she said.
He resisted the temptation to trace her skin again and resumed the shading. The orchid was perfect and looked beautiful on her. He’d almost fallen over when he heard her soft voice in his tattoo shop. He wondered if she had seen his surprise when she said she wanted a tattoo.
He probably should have told her no. He had a feeling that later she would regret being inked, but he couldn’t refuse her pleading gaze. Never mind the fact that he was itching