It's far more than the thrill of being tattooed that draws upper-class socialite Gia to get yet another piece of art inked onto her skin. But the sensual secret she brings to the session may prove more than her tattoo artist, Nick, can handle. More
“Out of curiosity, why cherry blossoms?”
“My mother is half Japanese,” she had told him. He had nodded, as though it was an explanation for something.
“Yeah, I was wondering if you had a touch Asian in you.”
“It’s the eyes, isn’t it?”
“Mostly, yeah. You get that perfect skin from your mom, too?”
She had smiled and given a nod, pleased that he was so pleased with his canvas.
“And, also out of curiosity, exactly how wet are you right now?”
Her entire body had grown cold with the impact of the question. Then she had felt the heat rising rapidly in her face. Nick, thankfully, had done her the favor of keeping his eyes on the cherry blossoms.
Finally she had found her voice, and for lack of anything else to say, actually answered the question.
“Pretty much soaked.”
He had exhaled a breath slightly more forcefully than normal, tickling her skin with it.
Her cheeks had been burning painfully by this point, and to make matters worse, the insistent throbbing between her legs had gotten stronger, and her thigh muscles shook from the effort of keeping her legs pressed together.
“Out of curiosity,” she had mimicked him once she had collected herself marginally, “exactly when did you figure that out?”
“Last session.” He had paused to wipe ink off her wrist, and met her eyes for only a split second. “I’ve worked on a couple of women before that got a little turned on, but you’re something else.”
If she had thought she couldn’t blush any more, he had proven her wrong.
“Sorry,” she had whispered, and prayed that the ground would swallow her whole.
“Don’t apologize.” He’d laid down the cloth and given her a half-smile. “Keeps things interesting.”