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He eyes the jerky movement and lets out a growly sigh, if sighs can be growly. “Yeah, Little D. I’ll go back there with you.” He says it as if I’m asking him to sign up for the draft, potentiallybeing called to war. I don’t know why, but the thought makes me smile. It slips off my face when Paul comes up to call me back, but Jude weaves his fingers through mine and my nervousness eases. A little bit, at least. I wince at just the thought of a needle piercing my nipple, but that’s exactly what I’m about to do.
“It won’t hurt as much as you think it will,” Paul assures me, putting on some gloves and opening up a new set of tools.
I sit down as Jude moves behind me and force myself to go through the motions—lifting my shirt and taking my bra off, watching as Paul cleans the area and marks the entry and exit points on my nipples with a purple marker.
“Want to check it out, see if they’re even and where you’d like?” he asks, but I don’t move. I’m not sure Icanmove. My nerves have me rooted in place.
“Jude?”
“Hm?”
“Will you come look at them for me? Tell me if they look okay?” I might find myself embarrassed about this later, but right now, I don’t care. I trust him. And honestly, I don’t mind it if he sees me like this. He’s already seen all the deepest, darkest parts of me anyway. This feels like nothing compared to all of that.
His steps are slow, measured, as he moves from behind me and turns on his heel to face me. I watch his turbulent gaze bounce between my breasts, and it’s like I can feel his stare brushing over my skin, lightly caressing my nipples.
The burn of embarrassment blazes through me, but it comingles with an unexpected burst of desire, too, both of the feelings spreading through my chest and spilling low into my stomach.
Jude closes his eyes for a long moment, before opening them and dragging them up to meet mine. “Looks good to me, Little D.”
“They’re even, right? The marks?” My words come out shaky, but I can’t tell if it only sounds that way to my ears or if he can hear it, too.
He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, his gaze sparking with an emotion I can’t grasp, and replies with a single nod. “You sure you don’t want me to wait outside?”
“What? No. Hold my hand. Please.”
He walks over to my side and grips my hand tightly. Maybe a littletootightly. But it takes my mind off of Paul, rolling forward in his chair and taking my breast in his hand.
Jude makes another pained sound, pinching his eyes closed.
And I can’t help it, I laugh. “Why are you closing your eyes like you’re in pain? I’m the one about to get pierced here. And I’m kind of scared shitless, whileyouhave nothing to worry about. Or—oh,are they just not pretty enough for you to want to look at?” I don’t know where the hell that statement comes from, but why does he look so worried, so tortured, when I’m the one about to have a needle shoved through my nipple?
He chokes out a laugh of his own, popping his eyes back open. “Not pretty—not pretty enough?” He stands up taller, raking a hand through his hair. “Are you shitting me, Declan? You’ve got the most beautiful pair of tits I’ve seen in my fucking life. But here, at my brother’s tattoo shop, is not where I intended to see them for the first time.”
My blush hits me with intensity, spreading way past my cheeks. Warmth hits me in places it shouldn’t—not when I’ve got another man seated between my legs.
But then Jude is striding out the door with an agitated, violent scowl on his face, and I don’t know what the hell just happened. He looked mad, and flustered, butmad. I swing back around to that last one again, because with the way his features drew down into sharp lines, punctuating his scowl, his gaze torrent with wild… Envy? Irritation? He was definitely angry.
With me?
I don’t think so.
“Alright, you ready?” Paul asks with an amused laugh.
I drag my gaze from where Jude walked out the door to his and nod. With the confirmation, he scoots forward on his rolling chair and takes my left breast in his hand again, needle at the ready.
“Deep breath in.”
I do as I’m told, sucking in a shaking breath and keeping my eyes anywhere but at my nipples below. My eyes travel over the artwork on the walls, desperate for a distraction without Jude here at my side. I look at the flash sheets of art painted in vibrant colors, some in black and gray, too. A delicate-lined cluster of flowers catches my attention before—owwww!I let out a desperate, tension-filled whimper.
That hurt a hell of a lot more than I expected it to. Than Paulsaidit would.
Holy fucking shit.
Uncontrollable tears rush forward behind my eyelids, and I have to breathe deeply just to keep them at bay.
“Ready for the next one?” he says.
“No,” I choke out, and he laughs.