Authors: Jan Springer
Tattoo artist Catalina Brown falls head-over-orgasms for the stranger who asks for a tentacle tattoo on his…most
body part. Normally mixing business with pleasure isn’t her thing, but he’s a sexual magnet she’s instantly drawn to, particularly after Cat experiences a wicked-hot artistic high while tattooing his every succulent inch. It all seems too good to be true.
Octoposeidon shape shifter Calder Croft catches the female’s succulent scent when she passes his California marina, and he can’t ignore the way she fires his blood. After meeting her, he’s stunned to discover Cat has no idea she’s a shifter about to come into her Change. It takes all his self-control to keep from ravishing the sexy woman right on the spot.
Calder has to tell Cat the truth about her heritage. She’ll either accept her birthright as a shifter—or succumb to madness, forever losing their chance at love.
“He wants you to tattoo his
?” Catalina Brown’s good friend Misty Rivers shrieked in shocked laughter. They sat at the picnic table outside Catalina’s trailer, in the private RV site she’d leased for the month, just south of Carlsbad, California.
“His entire cock,” Cat said plainly as she set down her wineglass. She enjoyed how Misty’s face flared a deep red that matched the “By The Sea Tattoo Parlor” decaled on the side of Cat’s nearby fifth wheel travel trailer.
Her friend’s brown eyes gleamed with excitement. She slapped her tanned hands onto the picnic table and leaned forward, shaking her head in denial. “No way.”
“You’re not seriously considering doing
?” Her friend shook her head again with increasing excitement. The mane of her shoulder-length, chestnut hair flew wild in the warm, late-afternoon, July breeze that drifted off the ocean behind them.
Catalina answered with a casual shrug of her shoulders. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she could actually do what this guy had requested. The only reason she was considering tattooing him was because she loved the design he’d emailed to her. It looked challenging and she loved a challenge.
“I’m meeting with him first thing in the morning. He wants me to make it so an octopus is tattooed across his abdomen and belly, with tentacles reaching around his waist, down his legs, up around his nipples, one around his back, and he wants his cock to look like a tentacle.”
Misty laughed. “Well, he certainly found the right woman for that, didn’t he? You’ve always loved drawing sea animals and tentacles are your fetish. I mean, look at your website. The gallery is loaded with images of sea tattoos you’ve done on your clients.”
A warm glow flooded Catalina at her friend’s praise. Cat came through this town several times a year to visit with her old high school friend-turned-actress. It was always a nice treat to see her. But yeah, Misty was right. Cat never turned down tattoo requests that had to do with seahorses, octopi, coral reefs and especially tentacles. Truth be told, tentacles turned her on so much she couldn’t even have a normal relationship with a man because she was consumed by the fetish. When men found out she needed tentacles surrounding her when she had sex, they dumped her like a hot potato.
“But having his entire cock tattooed like a tentacle. I mean, ouch!” Misty grimaced. “That would hurt, wouldn’t it? I mean sensitive parts and all.”
“It would hurt nine times more if I used the machine. I’ll do the bamboo technique on him instead. Small needles, less pain, more color, less blood, and I can do what he wants with the bamboo method nine times quicker because there’s a faster healing time. So pain will be at a minimum.”
Misty scrunched up her face. “Okay, quit the boring talk about the mechanics behind how you do your tattoos. What I want to know is, how will you handle tattooing his entire cock and abdomen and all the rest he wants done? I mean won’t you be embarrassed when you do that
“Why should I be?” Catalina lied. “Customer satisfaction is my goal, right?”
Besides, she was dying to see how good of an artist she could be in such a unique area of a man’s body. Sure, she’d tattooed cocks before, but never an entire one and never one that swept off the man’s stomach and onto his…appendage.
“You’re a tentacle nut, woman.” Misty laughed and nodded to the side of Catalina’s forty-five-foot-long trailer. The walls had been decaled in dark, ocean blue with white-capped waves and a variety of sea life designs swirling on all four sides. The biggest drawings, of course, were the sexy tentacles with suction cups. Her business name and website URL had been boldly brushed in red on all sides of the trailer too, in order to get free advertising as she drove along the highways.
The trailer she pulled around with her bright-blue pickup truck was her world. She ate in it. Slept in it. Worked in it. Traveled in it. She’d been travelling up and down the Eastern, Western and Southern United States Seaboards for five of her twenty-three years, always drawn to stay near the ocean. Heck, she’d loved the ocean ever since she could remember, and had been creating sea life pictures ever since her mother had stuck a crayon in her hand.
That love for ocean animals had naturally followed when, at the tender age of sixteen, she’d become, much to her parents annoyance and disappointment, an apprentice to a tattoo artist in her home town of what she called Boringsville, Oregon. When her mom had passed away due to colon cancer, her dad had hooked up with the local slut and married her. Catalina had learned quickly she was in the way of the newlyweds and, at eighteen, she’d packed up her bags and headed for the coastlines, working at enough tattoo parlors to learn virtually everything she needed to know about tattooing. She’d never looked back.
“I don’t know about this guy. He sounds kind of creepy, getting a tattoo like that.” Misty frowned, but Catalina just couldn’t get into the maybe-this-guy-was-dangerous mode her friend’s face was showing. This man actually sounded intriguing and she wanted to meet him. Big-time.
After Misty left, Catalina headed back inside her trailer and quickly popped the email from her mystery client up on her laptop. She read it over for the hundredth time since getting it a couple of days ago.
Would you be interested
in doing this design on me
an expert with certain aspects of sea life
Then he’d asked if she would do an octopus on his belly and the tentacle thing. Yes, he had to have a fetish or something. She also loved how he seemed to be a passionate romantic, because he wanted a red rose entangling a rusty, metal-shaped lock with a heart-shaped keyhole, dangling from the tentacle that wound around to his backside. Kind of like a surprise for the woman he would present himself too. Lucky girl.
Catalina smiled and, against her better judgment, found herself getting turned on at the idea of guy wearing such a unique tattoo. Something like that would be exactly what she would tat on her own man.
Immediately, she shook those thoughts away. No romance in her life. She was perfectly happy doing the travelling tattoo gig. She’d put a lot of money in setting up her business and she had all the proper sterilizing equipment and work licenses required by each state she visited. She wouldn’t give that up for anybody. Even for a fantasy of a client who wanted a tentacle tattoo.
* * * * *
Promptly at nine the next morning, a knock rattled her side door. He was here! Suddenly Catalina was all flustered and nervous. Second thoughts about this man whirled through her head. What if he
a madman like Misty had said? No, he couldn’t be crazy. He was into tentacles, just like her. And she wasn’t certifiable.
Blowing out a tense breath, she cast one last look into the bathroom mirror.
. She looked great. Professionally dressed in loose jeans, a white blouse and, of course, her dangling, tentacle earrings. Not that she was trying to make an impression on him or anything.
She grinned in the mirror, took a second to pinch her cheeks to make them look a bit redder, thus healthier. The knock came again and she left her tiny bathroom located near the back of the trailer and hurried down the narrow hallway to let him in. As she swung the door outward, she couldn’t help but inhale at the tall, clean-cut, dark-haired man who looked up at her with the greenest eyes she’d ever seen.
“Hi!” he said, and then smiled. A dimple exploded on his left cheek and she swore she forgot who she was and why he was here. For a very long split second it seemed as if only the two of them existed in the world.
“Am I too early?” he asked in a very deep voice and she realized she’d been staring at him.
It was nine a.m. sharp and he already had a nice five o’clock shadow lining his cheeks, strong chin, and the area over his upper lip. And he had the most kissable-looking lips she’d ever seen.
She shook her head, trying to whip away the thoughts that this would be a man she wouldn’t mind getting to know better. “Just on time. Please, come in. Have a seat at the table and we can discuss more of what you want done.”
She held the door open for him as he climbed the three steps into the office part of her trailer. Have mercy, but the man was a tall one. He towered over her five-foot-six-inch frame. He had to be more than six feet of hunk.
“Nice outfit,” he said as he looked around.
His gaze scanned the mellow, yellow, vinyl bench seats with the small, pullout table between the seats. On that table sat her coffee machine, some mugs, an open laptop, her calculator and several drawing pads for her designs. The nearby shelves were filled with ink bottles and other tattooing supplies. On the other side of the shelved wall was her work area, which consisted of a tattoo chair, equipment and more shelves with tools of her trade.
“Thanks. It’s crowded, but everything I need is here. When I’m out on the road, sometimes tattoo supply stores can be far and few between, so I keep a big stock.”
She followed him to the table, assessing his firm-looking ass hugged by a pair of tight, stone-washed blue jeans. He wore an ultra-tight, black t-shirt that illuminated some exceptionally thick pecs.
“You have a tentacle fetish,” he stated as he studied the numerous drawings of octopi, squid and all things tentacle she’d drawn, framed and hung on the walls.
Her cheeks grew warm. She sensed in the way his eyes gleamed while he studied each piece that he truly appreciated her art. Finally, a man she just might be interested in.
“I enjoy drawing them.”
“That’s why you were intrigued by what I sent?” His gaze swept away from her pictures and latched onto her. At the sight of his intense, green eyes, her heart hammered insanely against her chest. Such lovely coloring in those eyes. As green as the ocean on a cloudy day. Very attractive.
“Yes,” she admitted in a whisper.
“Do you have any tattoos on your body?”
Personal question time or what?
“A couple,” she lied. Normally she didn’t allow her clients to see the numerous tentacle tattoos that practically devoured every inch of her body. So she only showed the one gorgeous, plump heart with an arrow shooting through it that she had on the back of her right hand, and the black rose on her left wrist, and wore long sleeves and pants during work hours. Sometimes she showed more of her tattoos to her customers, if she was comfortable with them, and this man made her very uncomfortable, but in a sensual way.
“Would you like a cup of coffee? I’ve put on a fresh pot. It should be ready.” A change of subject was appropriate as it was getting way too warm in here. And the heated way she was reacting to him had nothing to do with the warm breeze blowing in through the several windows she’d propped open this morning.
He smiled and nodded. “Black, please.”
She ushered him to the bench seat and quickly grabbed a couple of clean mugs she’d placed on the table earlier. She poured some steaming hot coffee for both of them.
“Yep, you definitely have a tentacle fetish,” he grinned.
She jolted at that smile again. This time he showed her an even set of white teeth. Teeth she wouldn’t mind exploring with her tongue.
Oh Cat! Stop thinking like this!
He nodded to his coffee mug which had a decal of an octopus with, of course, tons of suction-cupped tentacles on it.
“Caught red-handed,” she laughed as she sat down on the bench seat opposite him. From the nearby file folder, she removed the graphic he’d sent.
“I can do this for you, but I wanted to meet you in person because, first of all, so I can discuss with you how the bamboo tattooing procedure I mentioned to you via email will work, that is…if you decide to go ahead with the project and—”
He held up his hand. “No reason to explain. I’ve done my research. In laymen’s terms the bamboo technique gives a more vibrant color. It’s less invasive to the flesh and the healing time between sessions is quicker. That’s good enough for me. Just tell me how much and I’m all yours.”
She’d already figured out how much this would cost him with the ink colors and everything she needed, plus her time, which she’d dropped the price drastically on to entice him into allowing her to do the project. She pulled the estimate from her file folder and placed it in front of him.
Thankfully, the price didn’t appear to shock him. He didn’t so much as flinch. Yes, he’d definitely done his homework.
“I would have thought it would be way much more.” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Can we get started right away?
Oh my, but he was in a hurry, wasn’t he?
“If you’re comfortable with starting now, then yes. I have a few hours open for you today.” She’d cleared her schedule and her clients in the hopes he would be as eager as she was to get started. She’d begin slowly, just to break him in easily, since he’d informed her in his email he’d never had a tattoo before.
“You can undress in the bathroom at the end of the hall. Remove your clothing from your waist down. You’ll find paper drapes in there on a shelf. Just wrap one around your waist. Take off your shoes, but you can leave on your socks. You can come back to the tattoo room which is just in the next room here. Last door to your right when you come out of the bathroom.” She pointed to the hallway.