Mason:Inked Reapers MC(104)

Miles had reached a small tattoo parlor. The dark interior was obscured  by all the images, which were up in the window; He stopped to look at  them. There were ornate dragons, floral skulls and proud eagles with  their wings spread. From what he could see there must be a very talented  tattoo artist working there. Miles rubbed at his naval sleeve. It had  been a few years since he'd had it completed and ever since then, he'd  been eager to have something new inked on himself. Getting tattooed was  like an itch that constantly needed to be scratched. Deciding that a new  tattoo would be a great way to kill some time, Miles stepped inside the  parlor as the chime above the door tinkled to announce his arrival.                       
       
           



       



After half an hour he'd decided to get the lyrics to his favorite song inked in ornate lettering across his chest.



"We're pretty busy," the guy at the desk said apologetically as he  glanced at his laptop screen. Given the quality of the work on display,  this didn't surprise Miles.



"I was hoping to get it done sooner rather than later," he admitted.



"Well," the guy pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "We can fit you  in if you don't mind an apprentice working on your tattoo? We've just  had a new girl start with us."



For a moment Miles was apprehensive. He wasn't sure he wanted someone  with little experience making a permanent mark upon his body. But then  he reasoned that they needed to start somewhere and how hard could some  ornate text be?



"Sure," Miles nodded and gave a soft smile. "That sounds fine."





Chapter 13



Brea nodded nervously.



"I know it's only your second week here," Gina explained, her expression  kind, "but you've been making some great progress and text is  relatively easy to work on. It's a big piece though so you'll probably  need a few sessions with the client."



Brea nodded again. She'd worked on a few small tattoos since the start  of her apprenticeship but always under the watchful gaze of her mentor,  Gina. But if Gina thought that Brea was ready to handle a client on her  own then she trusted her judgment. And the thought of working alone on  someone was as scary as it was exciting.



"If you have any problems, I'll be in the next room so you can just give me a shout, okay?"



"Okay."



Gina placed her hands firmly on Brea's shoulders and looked down at her,  which was easy for her to do since she was an impressive 6ft 2in. With  her bright blue hair, she looked like some sort of ethereal Goddess  whenever she walked down the street. Her arms were adorned with ornate  snake tattoos that curled up towards her shoulders and licked at her  neck. Brea hoped that one day she'd be able to look as fiercely  beautiful as Gina always did.



"I have faith in you," Gina gave Brea's shoulders a gentle squeeze.



"Thanks."



"And if that brother of yours wants to pop round again, he's welcome  anytime," Gina added with a playful wink. Brea squirmed awkwardly. She  got that Sylar had the whole brooding thing going on, but it was still  embarrassing every time Gina talked about how hot she thought he was.



"The client is through there," Gina pointed to a closed door and Brea  took a deep breath. She hoped that whoever was behind the door would be  patient enough to allow her to work on them over the next few weeks.  Progress would be slow thanks to her inexperience, but she hoped that  Gina had taught her enough in a short time to let her at least be  competent.





Chapter 14



With his shirt off Miles waited for the apprentice to arrive.  Thankfully, it was warm in the room so he didn't mind being half  dressed. His naval themed sleeve was in stark contrast to the rest of  his pale, muscular upper torso. Dark ridges of old scars criss-crossed  over his chest, scars which Miles hoped to one day hide completely with  tattoos. He wasn't one for showing his scars. It made him feel oddly  vulnerable.



Whenever women saw his scars, they wrongly assumed that he'd acquired  them during his time riding with the Reapers. But the stab wounds and  cigarette burns had all been souvenirs he picked up during his years  living rough. It was a time he was keen to forget altogether.



The door creaked open, pulling Miles away from the dark memories of his  past. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw her walk into  the room and hoped she hadn't noticed. She was a vision. Wearing dark  skinny jeans and a loose-fitting black tee she was effortlessly  beautiful. Dark hair bordered an angelic, elfin face. She was so unlike  all the woman Miles usually encountered who'd plastered on makeup over  craggy faces to try and look halfway decent. This woman was a natural  beauty. She didn't look like she belonged in some small tattoo parlor in  Colridge. She looked like she belonged in the pages of some fairy tale  book.



"Hi," she greeted him softly, her voice as sweet as her pure, beautiful  features. "My name is Brea and I'm going to be your artist."



"Pleasure to meet you, Brea." He liked the way her name felt in his  mouth when he said it  –  exotic yet oddly familiar. It was a name he  could say a thousand times and never grow tired of it.



"I'm Miles."



"Hi, Miles."



He gave her what he hoped was his most alluring smile. She maneuvered  around the chaise lounge and started gathering together materials. When  she bent over, Miles couldn't help but take in the view of her  impressively perfect ass. His hardening cock reminded him of how he  ached with longing. Despite the hangover, which hung around him like a  foggy cloud, when he saw Brea he just wanted to grab her waist and haul  her over onto the chaise lounge. He wanted to see her pretty face  crumple in ecstasy as she cried out his name.                       
       
           



       



"Black?" Brea was looking at him expectantly. Miles blushed. Could she sense what he'd just been thinking?



"Sorry?" he felt dazed, confused and slightly embarrassed.



"You want black ink for the tattoo, right?"



"Yeah," Miles smiled nervously, rubbing his neck. "Black ink works just fine."





Chapter 15



Brea woke up before her alarm had a chance to shrilly ring out through  her apartment. She practically bounced out of bed because she was so  eager to start her day.



It was her third appointment with Miles this morning. His tattoo was  pretty much complete, but she kept adding tiny, ornate details  –  a skull  here, a small dagger there. Pretty much anything she could think of to  keep him coming back while still maintaining the integrity of a  beautifully designed tattoo. There was something about Miles which made  Brea desperate to get to know him better. He was sexy, mysterious and  had an irresistible air of danger. It was engrossing, she was utterly  captivated.



So far she had learned that he was in Colridge for work and was staying  at a local motel in town. When he'd told her this, her pulse had  quickened. Wondering if it was perhaps some thinly veiled invitation to  spend the night with him which of course, she wanted to do. Each time  she saw his hard, toned chest she wanted to rake her fingers down it. As  she leaned over him, working, doing her best to remain locked in  concentration, she could see the steady rise and fall of his chest. His  beating heart was so close. He was so vulnerable, so exposed and so … so  sexy.



Brea couldn't stop thinking about him. In the shower, cooking lunch,  even in her dreams Miles was there. He had a warm smile and kind eyes.  Brea loved making him laugh during their sessions. But she knew it  couldn't go on forever, at some point his tattoo would be complete and  they'd go their separate ways.



The thought of not seeing Miles again was disheartening for Brea. She  knew she was being silly, he is a client and this is life, it goes on.  She just couldn't stop thinking about how much she loved their  conversations and yearned to know more about him  –  like how he'd  acquired the scars which made a tragic map across his body.



As she dressed for work Brea made the decision that she has to ask Miles  out. After all, the worst thing that could happen was that he'd say no.  And the best? Well … maybe she'd get to check out that motel room of his.





Chapter 16



"Morning" Brea tried to appear bright and bubbly as she walked in,  pausing to tie her hair up so that it wouldn't fall onto his chest as  she worked, as it had during their first session together.



"Morning," Miles replied in his deep, gentle voice. Brea soaked up the sound, letting it envelope her like soft, sumptuous silk.