Ryan reaches around me for the leather jacket and holds it up with a smirk. “Why have you been bringing this jacket with you every day this week?” He holds it next to me, showing that it’s too damn big to be mine. “You can just give it to me now. Stop pretending you haven’t been thinking about me. Gifts are completely acceptable.”
I shove the rest of my donut in my mouth and snatch Memphis’ jacket away from Ryan, who just scrunches up his face.
“Mind your own business, Ry. Don’t you have some tattoos or girls to do or some shit?” I ask, the sarcasm dripping from my tongue. “I’ll be in my room setting up, and before you ask, NO I will not pierce your penis again so don’t even try.”
“Bullshit,” he mumbles. “You’re doing it before I leave town because I don’t trust anyone else with a needle that close to my dick. You’re off the hook today, though, because I have an old friend coming in soon for a tat. Sorry, but I can’t go in there with a hard on and my penis throbbing.”
Ryan is one of the two tattooist at the moment, but he plans on moving in March of next year, so that gives Styles six months to fill his spot. Even though he can be a huge pain in the ass, I have to admit he’s one of the best I’ve seen. I’ll almost be sad to see him go just because I’ll miss his art.
“Well in that case maybe I can make an exception. I’m sure I’ll be free for the next ten minutes or so.” I smile and start backing away, toward my room with one eyebrow lifted. “Let me know if you change your mind, Ry.”
I’m in my room for about ten minutes before I hear footsteps enter. I almost think it’s Ryan, desperate for me to pierce his penis, but then I hear female voices, followed by nervous laughter.
I look up to see two dark haired girls standing in the doorway. They look scared, as if I’m going to bite them or something. You have to love the innocent ones so early in the morning.
“Alright, but you’re going first. It was your idea, Kim,” the shorter brunette says to her friend as she shoves her into the room.
“Hey, ladies.” I greet them while jumping up to my feet and walking to stand in front of Kim. “So you’re my first victim of the day? Where do you want it?” I look at her flawless skin and decide to have a little fun with her. I’m not fully awake yet and could use a little entertainment. It’s going to be a long shift. “Your nipples or your clit?”
Kim’s eyes widen along with her friend’s.
“Neither!” The other girl quickly blurts while closing her legs and clearing her throat. “That’s not all you do is it?”
I cross my arms over my chest and give them a long, serious look, making them tense up even more before breaking out into a playful smile.
“It’s a joke. Don’t get your cotton panties in a wad. I’m just having a little fun.” I uncross my arms and usher them further inside. “I’ll pierce anything you want, those two places included.”
I open my drawers and start reaching for the needed tools. If I had to guess—these girls are here to get their bellybuttons pierced. I can tell almost eighty percent of the time where the target is, before they even open their mouths.
“I was ah . . . just hoping to get my bellybutton pierced.” Kim looks to her friend and reaches for her arm, pulling her closer. “Amy too.”
No surprise there . . .
I sit down in my stool and spin around to give Ryan the middle finger as he attempts to enter the room. He throws his arms up in defeat and backs away, knowing not to mess with me this early in the morning. “Take a seat victim number one, Kim was it?” I look at her with a small smile. “Victim number two, hold Kim’s hand. I have a feeling she might need it.”
Not to my surprise it takes me almost forty minutes to finish up with the girls. I think I counted at least ten different times that they attempted to back out. Finally, I told them to just stop being whiney little bitches and live a little, because no one likes that type of girl. I couldn’t take it anymore and was tempted to yank my damn hair out. I’m so happy to get them out of my room.
I walk back out into the parlor to check on the guys. Ryan is sitting in one of the gaming chairs talking to Ace—our other tattoo artist.
Ace is definitely not the boy next door type. He’s tall, lean, and blonde, with gray eyes and covered from head to toe in tattoos except for his face. His face is clean aside from a piercing in his bottom lip and one in his left eyebrow.
I have to admit, I was really attracted to him when I first started working here, but after seeing his constant shameless flirting with women—it changed my mind.