Page 145 of Heavy

After parking and helping me off the bike, he takes my helmet and leads me up to the front door. I knock for us, and within seconds, an ebony skinned man answers the door with a big smile on his face. I’ll never forget the smell of a tattoo shop, but for that same scent to be coming from this house has me puzzled.

“It’s good to see you two again,” he says while stepping to the side.

I’m even more confused. I don’t remember who this person is. I’ve got pretty good memory, at least for faces.

“It is.” Ronan looks down at me and gestures for me to go inside. “Baby girl, this is Alan, you met him that night at the bonfire.”

Heatimmediatelyfloods to my face as I jerk my gaze up. Alan just grins, eagerly waving me into his home. I stop hesitating and walk through the door.

“Apparently that place has an online forum; Ken is quite familiar.” It seems like Ronan is familiar with it too, and when I glance back at him, he’s setting down our helmets before making his way over to my side. “I’ll show you.”

“You two are very popular.” Alan brings my attention back to him, his thick eyebrows wiggling with suggestive intent.

“Anyway.” Ronan clears his throat. “Alan is a tattoo artist, and you’ve been talking about getting another one, so I reached out. He does incredible work.”

My nerves have gone straight out the window, becausehell yesI want one. As I smile up at Alan, he begins to bring us toward the back of the house, into a large room with a very distinct atmosphere. I’ve been to strip clubs, and their VIP sections. This is exactly that but with tattoo equipment.

The walls are dark, lined with very suggestive artwork. They look like sketches, likely some of his previous work. The lighting is moody, but there’s a free-standing lamp, my guess is for the artist, Alan, to be able to see. There’s a leather couch, black with green and white stripped pillows.

When I look up at Ronan, he is smirking. “Do you mind if I pick what you get?”

I shake my head. “No, just please don’t put a penis on my forehead.”

That gets a snort-laugh out of Alan. “While art is beautiful, your face my dear, is already a masterpiece.”

I’m going to combust. “My god, thank you.”

Ronan chuckles. “He’s right. Pierce your face, but no ink. If I want to mark it, it will be with my cum or temporary paint.”

My bottom lip is caught between my teeth as I lean into him, burying my face against his chest. He runs his fingers gently through my hair, pausing when he reaches the loose braid at the nape of my neck.

“I’ll also be getting one, but you’ll go first,” he continues. “Do you mind if it stays a surprise?”

The sensation of my heart racing has me both nervous, and excited, I’m actually getting wet. My thighs clench, desperate even for a second of friction.

“No, I don’t.”

He leans in and places a brief kiss against my lips. “That’s my good girl.” Now my pussy is weeping for him,great. “Now, get naked.”

My eyes widen in shock. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” He grips my braid and tears my head back, eliciting a gasp from me. “Completely.”

I look over at Alan, who is prepping his station. The black leather tattoo bed that’s for me to sit on, is now adjusted upward so that I’ll be able to be at an angle.

“Where am I getting it?” I ask while slowly taking off my jacket. Suddenly, I’m scorching hot.

“I’m thinking your right arm, at your bicep, but I’ll let Alan set it where he thinks it will look the best. Don’t worry, I’m mindful of your designs, baby girl.”

Damn him for being so hot. I’m a puddle for himdaily.

I shed my clothes, piece by piece, and before I can convince myself otherwise, I’m completely nude. The question lingers on my tongue why I need to be bare for an arm tattoo, but I trust Ronan to give me every new experience in a safe place.

That day at the bonfire, with him chasing me through the woods—I felt safe, no matter what.

He takes my hand and helps me onto the table, positioning me in a perfect lounge angle. When I look up at my tattoo artist, he's snapping his gloves on.

“Eyes on me, Cal.” I snap my gaze to Ronan who is standing at the foot of the table. “Do you know what is about to happen?”