Punctured, Bruised, and Barely Tattooed(3)

God, he probably thought she just was a stupid kid. She’d grown her dark hair out since the first time she’d seen him, and she knew she looked more like a woman today than she had back then. Unlike the busty babe he’d just tatted, though, Kory’s breasts were small. Of course, they matched her body. She was small all over, and it just made her self-conscious. She knew people dismissed her, so she had to make up for it with her voice and gestures. The problem was that behavior was often at odds with how she felt inside.

She was a mess, a basket of contradictions. That meant she’d never make a good girlfriend, would never be dating material, would—

“Hey.” She heard Stone’s voice just a couple of feet away as her brain was considering an exit strategy.

Too late. Besides, she could feel the butterflies freaking out in her tummy now as an eerie calm washed over her back. “Hey.” She looked in his eyes. Wow. Yeah. This guy was the shit.

“Richie said you’re itching for another piercing.”

She swallowed. “Uh, yeah.” God, she felt like she could drown in his dark eyes. She could—and she’d be content breathing in the water, filling her soul with his essence. Kory so many times felt like she didn’t belong anywhere—nowhere on the planet—but she could see herself finding peace in his eyes.

Now, though, his gaze unnerved her. It wasn’t like it was in her fantasies. There they had an easy relationship. In real life, though, he was just a hot guy and she was merely his customer. His annoying punctured, slightly stalkerish customer who needed an excuse to be touched by him once more.

He tilted his head toward the door to the back, indicating that he was going to lead her behind the glass door. She stood, her legs a little wobbly, and she couldn’t help but focus on his hand as he grabbed the handle. Fuck. Those tattoos all over his hand made her feel warm between her legs. If he knew what seeing him did to her, he’d be kicking her ass out and filing a restraining order.

Jesus.

She was so absorbed in her warm thoughts that she almost missed what he asked. She forced herself to focus so she could remember the words that had just come out of his mouth. Oh, what she wanted pierced. Yeah. She gulped again, walking through the door toward the back while he held it open, and said, “Tragus.”

He half smiled and nodded. “Right or left?”

She hadn’t thought about it, really. No way would she get them both done—not now. It would give her another excuse to visit if she only got one. She turned around, pulling hair behind her ears on both sides. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

He shrugged. “I think it would look okay on either side.” They stopped near an alcove where a cushioned table butted up against a wall, almost like a doctor’s office. She knew the drill and hopped up before Stone could say a word. He opened a drawer and started getting out supplies and set them next to the piece of jewelry Kory had chosen long before he had been involved. “Do you have a preference?”

No, not really. She just wanted his hands on her again. She would never say that, though. “Hmm. Maybe balance. You know—even me out?”

He didn’t even look up from what he was doing. “So on the right then?”

Wow. He remembered that she had more holes on the left than the right. Part of that was because of the industrial she had in the right ear, and she’d never bothered to put other piercings in the gap above where the bar went through. That was good, though, because it gave her plenty of options for later…until he realized she had a problem and refused to continue piercing her.

She wasn’t a freak, though. She knew plenty of people who were crazy pierced—the ones who had to have surgery to be pierced through bone, and even some of the extreme ear stretchers, something Kory couldn’t quite get into…those were the ones who had a problem.

Sure, she did too, but it had nothing to do with being addicted to body modification. It was an addiction for the man doing the work.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

He turned around and wiped with alcohol the tiny area where the tragus piercing would go. She couldn’t help but look at his face. He was right there and he was close, and it was at that moment that Kory realized that she probably trusted this man more than she trusted anyone else. Why? Because he had, multiple times, had her well being in his hands and, while piercings stung, he’d never injured her.

God, he was gorgeous. Kory loved how the colorful tattoos crept up his neck. If he would have decided to grow out his beard, it would have covered the tops of them. More than that, though, she loved the tattoos on his hands. The ones on his arms crawled down the backs of his hands, and he also had letters on his fingers. One hand had the letters P-A-I-N on the knuckles and the other had the letters F-U-C-K. Kory was pretty sure it was a statement—fuck pain—which was appropriate for a guy who tattooed and pierced others for a living. Kory knew he wasn’t pierced much, at least where her eyes could see. He had slightly stretched piercings in his ears and Kory could tell he used to have snakebites that he had since allowed to close up. She bet those had been sexy.