His eyes caught mine, a frown turning down his lips before he nodded. “Offer to stay at my place still stands, Sienna. Anytime, day or night, I’m there.”
I nodded, trying to hold back the tears. Why did I get so emotional like this just because someone was being kind to me? Was it such a rare occurrence? Had I grown so callous to people and reality? “They weren’t always so bad, not before…”
“Before what, Sienna?”
“Before the night I got that scar. Before the night my sister died. It changed both of them. Made them harder. They gave in to their anger, I guess. It’s like they’re permanently stuck in that phase of grieving now. I get it, I do. Losing a kid must be the hardest thing someone has to go through, but they ended up losing me that night too.”
“Jesus, Sienna, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, thumb sliding over the tender pulse point at my wrist.
“It was a long time ago,” I finally said.
“Some wounds never heal. I’ve learned that listening to the stories people tell me sitting in this chair,” he replied, swiping at my skin with a soft stroke. I was relieved when the sharp scent of alcohol hit my nostrils, the buzz of the gun started, and my anxiety about the reality of my life melted away. I wasn’t getting this tattoo to prove a point, to make my dad mad—not even because I needed the reminder to be a nasty gal. It was so much simpler than that. The bite of the needle was like a drug, sending endorphins to my brain, the buzz of the gun ratcheting up my adrenaline. The touch of his hands on my skin was heaven.
River was under my skin, all right. He was tattooed on my heart as permanently as the ink he sketched into my skin.
SIX
River
“I don’t like to pierce and tattoo the same girl in twenty-four hours and not take her out to dinner,” I breathed into the crook of her neck, drunk on the scent of her skin.
“Is that all it takes to get a date with you?” she quipped.
I laughed, drunk on her sassy sense of humor too. “Dinner and a movie and let me feed you.”
She giggled, arms curling around my waist, the dim light of the shop shadowing us. “I’m not really a fancy dinner and wine kind of gal. I’m nasty, remember?” She held up her middle finger, my ink still fresh on her skin, bandaged and covered with ointment.
“Takeout and a concert?” I begged. I wasn’t above begging. I didn’t know much about anything beyond tattooing, but I knew I needed this woman in my life.
“That sounds more my style, but I probably shouldn’t be out late tonight.” She tucked her head into my chest and sucked in a soft breath.
“Okay, just takeout, then. My place. I’ll introduce you to Pablo.”
“Pablo?” she asked.
“My cat.”
“Oh, Pablo the cat. Of course.”
“Named him after Neruda. Best poet, living or dead.”
“You like Pablo Neruda?” Her eyebrows rose.
“I’ve tattooed a lot of love poems, and his always seem to make the most sense. If nothing saves us from death, may love at least save us from life. That’s one of my favorites.”
“That’s beautiful.”
“Always thought it would make a great wedding tattoo.”
“It would,” she said softly, lips turning up.
“How’re the nipples feeling?”
“Throbbing is down to a seven on the pain scale. So, manageable.”
“A seven? I figured you had a higher pain tolerance than that the way you begged me to spank you.”
His words sparked in my stomach, causing it to cartwheel and flip at the memory of his hands spanking my ass. The sound of the crack echoing off the four walls. The way he made me weak and needy, desperate and willing to beg him for more.
“Yeah, that was great.”
He laughed, arms encasing me. “Ready for a repeat already?”
“No,” she said quickly. “My ass is still sore from the last time, but I like it. Reminds me you were there.”
“Mmm.” I covered her mouth with mine, fucking her with my tongue, tasting every raw inch she had to give of herself. “That’s my favorite part too.”
She sighed, lips turning up as my fingers pushed inside the waistband of her jeans. “We’re going to have to go. Five more minutes in here alone with you and we’ll both be naked.”
“I was kind of hoping for that.”
“God, you are a nasty gal.” I swatted at her ass, enjoying the squeals as we walked out the front doors.
I turned, twisting the key in the lock. “So, what are you in the mood for?”
I locked up the shop, turning to find her standing in the evening light, the sun shining off her silky hair.