Clipped Wings (26 page)

“You know how it is. Once they’re in the chair, they usually open up. I’m sure Tenley will be no different,” I said, assuming indifference. She had promised to tell me more about her scars. Maybe she would offer insight during the session.

“You’ve been with her every night for the past week,” Jamie pointed out. “You’d think she would have said something by now.”

“What?” Chris wore one of those brain-melting expressions. He looked from Jamie to me. “What’s Jamie talking about? You’ve been with Tenley every night? As in
with her,
with her? Like breaking the rule with her?”

“We’ve been hanging out. It wasn’t like I kept it a secret.” I shot Jamie a look. I hadn’t sought to publicize the information because I could have predicted Chris’s reaction.

“But, but . . .” Chris stammered.

“Lisa said she was in some kind of accident.” Jamie deflected away from the finer details of hanging out. Not that I would share them with Chris. I didn’t need him imagining Tenley naked. Just thinking about it inspired unreasonable violence.

“What kind of accident?” Chris asked.

“She has some scars.” This topic wasn’t any better than the previous one.

“Scars? Where?” Chris kept injecting himself back into the conversation.

“What are you, a fucking parrot?”

He didn’t have an opportunity to devise a clever comeback because two girls walked in.

“Asshole.” He jumped out of his chair to greet them.

Tenley showed up a few minutes later. I steered her directly to the private room so we could avoid Chris’s curious glances.

“Hi,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets because I didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Hi.” She took a step toward me, then stopped, like she didn’t know what to do, either. We were quite the pair.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Good. Excited. Nervous.” She wrung her hands.

I closed the distance and pulled her into a hug. Her arms came around my back, her cheek pressed against my chest. I rested my chin on top of her head. We could have stood there like that for hours and I wouldn’t have minded in the least.

“Right after this I’ll start acting professional,” I said.

“Because you were so professional the last time you had me in your chair.”

“I wasn’t at all, was I?”

“No.” She frowned. “I hope you’re not like that with all your clients.”

“Definitely not.” I leaned down to kiss her.

She resisted at first, like she had honest concerns it was a possibility.

“Look at me,” I said softly. When she did, I could see her fear. That was why it was a bad idea to get involved with a client; it made her more vulnerable. “I promise you’re the only one.”

When I kissed her, all the tension melted away. I only stopped because Lisa rapped on the door with her emergency knock.

I dropped one last chaste kiss on Tenley’s lips. “Yeah?” I called over my shoulder.

Lisa poked her head in. “I’m getting coffees, either of you want one?”

So much for an emergency.

“I’m okay,” Tenley replied.

“You sure? I’m getting one.” I pulled out my wallet and passed Lisa a twenty. “Tenley likes those caramel latte things.”

“I don’t need the caffeine.”

“Make it a decaf,” I said to Lisa, “and I want the usual.”

“Sure. Nice lip gloss, by the way. The sparkles really accent the viper bites.” She winked at Tenley and pulled the door closed behind her.

I rubbed at my mouth with the back of my hand. It came away glittering. “Fuck.”

“Not anytime soon,” Tenley mumbled.

“It’s only a week, but we can postpone the tattoo if that’s a problem for you.” I almost hoped she took me up on the offer.

“I’ll survive.”

I rubbed the rest of the lip gloss off on my shirt and flipped open her folder. “So I tweaked the design a little more.”

“Oh?”

Mission: Change the Damn Subject accomplished. “I altered the shape of the wing here”—I pointed to the bottom corners—“and here,” and traced the edge where it would rest on her shoulders. I was stalling, still worried about how she would react emotionally after the session. While the tattoo should be well on its way to healing after a week, it would be difficult to resist if she pressed for sex sooner. And she would. Because that was the way she worked.

“Like I said before, we’re looking at about twenty hours to complete the design, but that depends on a lot of factors. We won’t know how the ink is going to take for at least a couple of weeks. I’ve planned a four-hour session tonight for the outline. If you’re uncomfortable, or it becomes too painful, you have to tell me to stop.”

“Okay. Should I get undressed now?”

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

“You’ve scheduled four hours tonight for the outline. If I’m uncomfortable, I should tell you,” she paraphrased.

“You’re absolutely certain you want to go through with this?” I asked.

Tenley started slipping buttons through holes. I noted she took my advice and wore something easy to put back on later. And she wasn’t wearing skintight jeans, either. With any other client I would have left the room to give them some privacy. Not with Tenley, though.

She’d changed her bra since this morning. It was dark blue with silvery lace trim and little crystals all over it. I didn’t bother to hide the fact I was staring. She shrugged out of her top, folded it neatly, and set it on the counter where all the supplies were. Her hands went behind her back, a gesture that pushed her chest out as she unhooked the clasp of her bra. The straps slid down her arms and her perky breasts came into view. Her nipples tightened when the air hit them.

I didn’t look away as I reached into the cupboard beside me to retrieve a towel. “Here.”

She took it from me. “What’s this for?”

“To cover yourself.”

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen me topless before.”

“Yeah, but now you’re just torturing me. How would you like it if I whipped my dick out and made you look at it for the next four hours?”

Tenley glanced at my crotch. “Point taken.” She covered herself up.

“Besides, I’m going to need Lisa’s help to place the transfer.”

“She’s seen them before, too.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” I had the irrational desire to put Band-Aids over her nipples to make sure they stayed covered.

There was a brief tap on the door before Lisa identified herself. When I gave her the all clear, she slipped into the room.

“Perfect timing. Can I get a hand with this?” I motioned to the design.

“Sure.” Lisa locked the door and passed out coffees first.

Mine was black and still too hot to drink, so I set it on the counter.

Tenley watched with curiosity as I took a seat in my chair and wheeled myself around the room, gathering up supplies as I went. I tossed Lisa a pair of latex gloves and grabbed a pair for myself. “Why don’t you have a seat, kitten.” I patted the stool in front of me.

Lisa shot me an incredulous look. I ignored her and focused on Tenley. She sat as directed, her back ramrod straight.

“You can relax for now. I have to use an antiseptic spray before we transfer the design to your skin,” I said and moved her ponytail out of the way, exposing her scars. Tenley shivered and slumped a little.

Lisa coughed and mouthed a shocked expletive at me. No amount of verbal preparation could adequately describe the full extent of Tenley’s scars.

“You’ll take lots of breaks?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, whenever I think she needs one,” I said, reassuring her.

Lisa was justifiably concerned. It would be painful to ink over those areas, especially around Tenley’s left hip. Tenley was thin, so anywhere close to bone would be sensitive. When we were ready to place the transfer, I had Tenley stand in front of the mirror.

“These need to be lower.” I traced the waistband of her leggings. I preferred them to her jeans. There was no zipper, no button, no back pockets; just stretchy material that conformed to every curve of her lean body.

“You can pull them down,” she said.

It was a damn good thing we had third-party company, because I would have been all over that comment otherwise. Instead I kept my mouth shut and hooked my thumbs under the fabric, lowering it until it sat beneath her hip bones. Lisa took the left side and I took the right, setting the transfer on Tenley’s skin, making sure it was perfectly in line with her spine and her shoulders. Nothing looked shoddier than a full back piece that wasn’t centered properly. Lisa held the corner and I smoothed it out, peeling it back once it was set.

“It’s going to be gorgeous,” Lisa said, her tone almost reverent.

Tenley turned to get a better view of the design. “Oh, wow,” she whispered.

Lisa adjusted Tenley’s ponytail and kissed her on the cheek. “Brave girl. See you in a few hours.” She slipped out the door, closing it behind her with a quiet snick.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” I pulled off a glove and dropped it on the counter so I could touch her without obstruction. I skimmed beneath the hollow of her eye, wiping away a solitary tear.

“I’m not afraid of pain.”

“I know,” I said, because I did. Tenley knew pain; she wore the proof on her body. But it came in different forms, and the physical kind was easier to deal with.

Her spine straightened. “I’m ready.”

I took my place in the tattooing chair, straddling it as he suggested. It reminded me of one of those reclining chairs in a dental office, except without arms. He put on mellow music and snapped on a new pair of gloves. I watched, anxiety warring with excitement, as he assembled his tattoo machine.

When everything was ready, he turned to me. “Last chance to back out.”

He’d said that to me before, the first time we’d had sex. Everything had changed since then. What started as an overwhelming physical attraction had transformed into something I hesitated to identify. I sought solace in Hayden; in his warmth, in the comfort of his body. Our unyielding chemistry made everything but us cease to exist when we were together. Sex with Hayden—anything involving Hayden—was perfectly consuming. I was terrified of losing that.

With the exception of Tuesday night, Hayden’s presence in my bed fended off the worst of the nightmares. Although my nights were never truly peaceful, they were better with him. It wasn’t just sleep that improved; everything had, unless I was alone. In the hours without him, when I wasn’t otherwise occupied, the pain resurfaced. My remorse over things that couldn’t be changed was like acid, burning through skin and bone, seeping into the heart of me. So I stayed as busy as possible, avoiding the solitary moments I’d coveted previously.

“I’m too invested to do something crazy like that.”

He studied me, a rueful grin pulling at his mouth. “It goes both ways.” He pressed a soft kiss to my temple, the deeper meaning not lost on either of us.

My fears had little to do with putting the tattoo on my body and everything to do with how I felt about Hayden. This tattoo not only guaranteed his continued presence in my life but it held the possibility of real healing, too. It was my attempt at finding closure, at putting everything behind me by accepting it, owning it, wearing it on my skin. But I couldn’t stop thinking about whether or not I would lose Hayden in the process when he realized I could never be fixed. Hayden reclined the backrest so I wasn’t completely upright. The tattoo machine buzzed to life, and Hayden’s gloved palm came to rest at the nape of my neck. Even the most innocent contact with him brought on a wave of calming energy. I’d come to rely on it, particularly at night when I was on the cusp of sleep. It felt like a physical manifestation of our emotional connection.

The sharp bite of the needle pierced my skin. The discomfort was much like it had been with the cupcake tattoo. Hayden worked in silence at first, presumably to give me time to adjust to the sensation. After a few passes with ink, he wiped the area with a cool cloth, soothing the sting. When he reached my shoulder, the prickle grew more pronounced, so I assumed he was tattooing over the scars. The pain was manageable, but then it didn’t compare to what I’d experienced after the crash.

Tonight I planned to divulge something about the accident; I knew I owed Hayden at least some small insights into my past despite my fear of opening up. I just didn’t know how much yet. Enough to appease him without risking the tenuous relationship we were building. For all of his armor, Hayden became increasingly transparent the more time I spent with him. He didn’t do things halfway. He was either all in or not at all. And that trait wasn’t isolated to the bedroom. With the outline completed, he would feel compelled to finish the design. It was a horrible abuse of power on my part. But now I needed him in ways that extended beyond his role as my artist.

“Tenley?” he asked, breaking my reverie.

“Mm.” I had been staring at his profile, lost in my thoughts.

“Are you hurting? You made a . . . noise.” He rolled back in his chair. “Maybe we need to take a break.”

“I don’t need a break. How long has it been?” I lifted my head, my cheek damp from resting against the vinyl.