Get Off on the Pain(2)
She lets out a relieved breath and smiles over at her boyfriend Landen as I dab the blood off her lip and go over the same aftercare instructions I repeat twenty plus times a day. It never gets old. Okay, so I lied. It’s old as shit.
“You sexy bitch,” I say with a smirk, happy that after all that convincing—I was right. Tossing my gloves into the trash, I reach beside me for the mirror and hold it up for her, so that she can see for herself. It looks hot, sitting just below her plump bottom lip. I told her that it would and I have spent the last six months trying to convince her of that. “Perfect placement. Perfect piercer. What did I say? No worries.”
Leaning up, Bailey looks into the mirror and reaches up to touch her lip, but I slap her hand away and growl, reminding her of our earlier discussion. “Ouch! Crap, I forgot! I knew I would still try to do that.” She focuses on her reflection in the mirror and lets out a satisfied squeak while checking out her lip at different angles. “I love it! Wow. I was a bit worried I wouldn’t look good with one, but I have to admit, I look hot. You were right, Lyric. I’ll give you this one.”
“No shit,” I say sarcastically. “Next time you should listen to me sooner.”
“This time,” she points out quickly. “I wouldn’t be so proud about being right for the first time like ever.”
“I’ll take it when I can get it; especially when it’s with you.” I give Landen a little shove toward the door before ushering Bailey to follow. “Now get the hell out of here so I can too. It’s late.”
Bailey stands up to follow Landen to the door, but stops before walking out. “Are you sure you don’t want me to pay? I don’t want it to look like I expect things for free since I know you.”
I grab the cleaning bottle, spray it on my chair, and then toss the empty bottle aside as a reminder to fill it back up later. “Dammit, Bailey, for the twentieth time . . . no. Don’t make me say it one more time.”
Landen flexes his jaw in annoyance and pulls out a cigarette, placing it behind his ear. “Yeah, don’t offer to pay for that shit, Bailey.” Lifting an eyebrow, he pulls her up against his body and bites her neck before pulling away and groping her ass. “Let’s get out of here and let Lyric deal with that shit. She offered, so it’s not on you.”
Sometimes I feel like shoving my foot down his big throat. He’s lucky Bailey loves him so much or I would do it. No joke. “I should make your ass pay just for being a jerk, Landen, and for snatching up my leftover pizza last night after I told you both to save it for me for after work.” I say this next part to have a little fun with him and to maybe piss him off. Just a little. “Oh and by the way . . . no blowjobs for at least six weeks. It could cause an infection and no one wants that shit, right? So enjoy.” I smile big, enjoying my own humor.
“Oh hell no. Take that lip ring out, Bailey. You can do without it.” He reaches for Bailey’s lip as she slaps him away and shakes her head from side to side. “Take it out.”
I point to the exit door. “Buh bye.” I turn to Bailey and wink at her, causing her to laugh and follow him out into the parlor, yelling at him, and telling him the piercing stays. Let him choke on that for a bit. It’ll give her something to have fun with. He deserves to get knocked down a few notches once in a while.
A few seconds after I hear the door close Styles pops his head into my room, crosses his arms, and shakes his head in amusement.
“What?” I ask with a smirk.
He follows me out into the parlor. “That’s some fucked up shit. Do you know what that does to a man? Six weeks. That hurts.”
Styles is the owner here at Ravage Tattoos and hired me on the spot when I walked through that door four years ago looking for a job. That instantly put him on my good side when moving here to Crooked Creek.
I shrug my shoulders and grab for my thin, leather jacket, slipping it on. “He did it to himself.” I turn to face him and smile when he does. “Most men do, Styles. Trust me. When you guys stop acting like assholes, then I’ll stop making your lives hell.”
Styles bites his bottom lip and walks behind the display, looking for something. “Hot and sassy. I swear the more your sexy mouth runs, the more I want you. I like my women feisty.” He looks back up at me while slamming a folder onto the counter. “And for the record—I’ll never stop being an asshole. I’m a guy, plain and simple, and women love assholes.”
I point at him and start backing away to the door. “I’ll remember that for when I lose all standards.” I push the door open and wave a dismissive hand at him. “Later, Styles.”