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Just a little prick. That’s what he promised, but when I saw the size of it, I almost passed out. Of course, I’m talking about the needle Bradley used to give me my first tattoo…
Goddamn. What a day.
At least I could relax tonight. It was the first night out in a while where the rest of the crew didn’t want to tag along. A cold beer, some decent pizza, and the background noise of the bar were doing a good job keeping me company. I was happy to just enjoy being by myself for a little while. I could sit at the bar and sketch a bit, drink a bit.
It was good to not have to deal with people for a minute. Not that many people really talked while I was working. Guess they were afraid I’d lose concentration and fuck something up.
I loved my job. I loved creating permanent art, loved most of the clients, and all of my coworkers. But even the most outgoing people need a little down time, and this was how I chose to spend mine.
I lifted my pen from the napkin I was doodling on. Taking a sip of beer, I considered the sketch. The felt-tip marker was already bleeding on the thin paper, but it’d be all right. It was just an idea I was feeling out. It would need refinement before I could do something more permanent with it. I’d turn the sketch into a painted piece sometime and frame it, then wait for the right person to come along and get it done.
Still, as I lowered my beer, I frowned at the drawing. I didn’t do animals or cutesy stuff often, but the idea of a butterfly painted like the night sky had been on my mind. It wouldn’t leave me alone, so I had to draw it.
It wasn’t half-bad, for a sketch on a napkin with the wrong kind of pen. I’d have to recreate it in my sketch book later on.
My eyes cut to the side, where a girl leaned against the counter to speak to the bartender. Her back was flat, leading down to the ample curve of her ass in skin-tight jeans. I raised my eyebrows, letting my gaze travel up again. Amazing tits, undoubtedly in a push-up bra from the way they sat. Just a hint of lace peeked over the neck of her tank top. Red-brown hair hung in soft curls over her shoulders.
She glanced my way. Gorgeous face, perfect makeup, a freckle at the corner of her lips. She raised her eyebrows as well, then shot me a wink, waiting for a response.
Damn. Maybe better company was here already.
I winked back at her, lifting my beer and raising it in a toast. Her plum-colored lips broke into a wide, white-toothed grin and she moved to perch on the stool next to me.
“Hey,” I replied. I held my right hand out to her. “Bradley.”
“Erica.” She shook my hand, her grip just firm enough. She nodded to my arm, smiling. “You know a good artist?”
I gave her another once-over. Gorgeous woman. I smiled at her, taking a sip of my beer. “Might know a couple. Check out No Regrets. Best tattoo shop in the area.”
She nodded, leaning forward to look at my arm a little closer. She ran her fingertips over the outline of a snake that coiled up my forearm. I felt my cock twitch.
“Yeah? I’ll check it out.” She opened her mouth to speak again, when she caught sight of the napkin I was sketching on and grabbed for it. “Shit, did you draw this? You’re an artist at No Regrets, aren’t you?”
I didn’t say anything. She was doing enough talking for the two of us.
She held my gaze, but moved the napkin, pressing it to the fullest part of her hip. “I was thinking about getting something right here.”
“Were you?” I wanted to reach out and touch her. Not yet, anyway. “Well. Drop in sometime. We can talk about it.”
“Good.” She turned her head as the bartender approached with a tray of shots. “Well. I gotta take these. See you around, huh?”
“See you,” I answered, grinning. I turned to watch as she walked across the room, where she joined a table full of women. All of them were hot as shit, but she was easily the hottest.
One of them would be going home with me tonight. I was sure of it.
I drank a few more beers. The women at the table laughed, growing progressively louder as they consumed shot after shot. I stole a few glances at them—at Erica, mostly—but otherwise focused on drawing.
The women soon started to say their goodbyes. Some of them headed for the doors, but I heard her approach. She wrapped her arms around my neck from behind. Her tits pressed against my back.
“Bradley,” she murmured. “You wanna get outta here?”
Fuck yeah, I did.