I took my time removing her shirt, skimming the delicate cage of ribs. The red bra with black polka dots and the lacy ruffle at the top came into view. I could guarantee she had on the matching panties. She was the life-size version of the outline Jamie had put on my forearm a week ago.
I didn’t trust myself to undress her any further without taking things too far, so I snapped on a pair of gloves while she unclasped her bra. She was wearing the cupcake nipple shields again. She smiled innocently, waiting for me to stop staring at her breasts and get with the program.
“You need to turn around, kitten,” I said to her chest. “Please.” Sessions with Tenley had become like foreplay and were almost as intimate. With the two-hour limit she wasn’t put out of commission, and the connection carried over into the bedroom later. The sex was always mind-blowing. Another reason I’d wanted to postpone the final session.
She turned around and straddled the chair, allowing my brain to function again.
The area I was working on tonight was small, only about six inches high by eight inches wide. “Ready?”
“For you? Always.” Tenley’s coy grin alleviated some of the tension.
I started with the golds and silvers, then moved on to the reds and blues in the flames licking up the underside of the wings. I choose this section because it represented the light and dark equally. For me, she would always be the light in my darkness.
Tenley’s hand rested on my knee as I shaded in the wing. She didn’t complain when I went over her ribs or hit spots that were inevitably tender. She’d been like that for almost every session. Even when I went over the scarred parts, the only sound she would make was one of relief when the needle lifted from her skin and I wiped away the residual ink. The sole sign that she was in pain came from the tension in her body.
Our conversation was light, nothing like that of some of the earlier sessions, which had been full of difficult revelations.
This one was over too quickly.
When I finished, I looked over the entire piece, searching for spots that needed touching up. There weren’t any. I’d been meticulous. I turned off the tattoo machine and set it down. Then I wiped the ink with a fresh cloth, admiring the completed piece for the first time.
“It’s done.”
Her smile was full of warm satisfaction. “I want to see.”
I helped her out of the chair and led her to the three-way mirror, angling it so she didn’t have to crane her neck. The reds and blues and smoky shades of purple at the base of the wings presented a striking contrast against the ethereal golds and silver at her shoulders. I doubted I would ever put anything so darkly beautiful on another person.
Her fingers trailed along the tip of the wing. She looked like an angel on fire.
“It’s so gorgeous,” she said softly.
“You make it that way.”
Tears slid down her cheeks as she inspected the art. The emotions and anticipation that came with finishing a piece of this magnitude warranted them. I’d always looked at body art as a way to exorcise demons, but it wasn’t about that at all. It was a push and pull; letting go and holding on at the same time. She wore her loss in an armor of ink, just as I did.
I covered the ink with a protective layer of cellophane, then stripped off my gloves and wiped away her tears.
Her arms came around my neck. Still in front of the three-way mirror, the reflection gave me the perfect view of her fresh ink from several viewpoints.
“Thank you for finishing this and for agreeing to be my artist in the first place.”
“Like there was ever any other option?” I traced the edge of the tattoo. “As soon as this is healed, I want Lisa to take another picture.”
Tenley’s fingers traveled down my chest. “Do I need to remind you that I live with you? Don’t you think you’ll see enough of it?”
“There is no such thing as enough when it comes to you.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
Her palms slid under my shirt and up my sides. I didn’t stop her when she pulled the shirt over my head and discarded it on the floor. I also didn’t resist when she grabbed me by the belt buckle and dragged me toward the tattoo chair. Tenley ripped my belt from the loops and popped the button on my fly.
Her leggings were next. “I love these things. No zippers or buttons to mess with,” I said.
She laughed as I gave one firm tug and down they came. I dropped into the tattoo chair with my jeans pooled around my knees and took half a second to appreciate that she was, in fact, wearing the matching panties to the sexy bra she’d been sporting.
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down, kissing my way from her navel to the crest of her pelvis. Her hands went to my hair as they always did and guided my mouth lower. She rarely left any question as to what she wanted.
I gave her a little lick before I peeked up at her. “Maybe I should take you home.”
Her eyes narrowed in a sexy, sinister way. “Like hell.”
She was going to be a firecracker tonight, if I let her. She let go of my hair and pushed on my shoulders until I was reclined in the chair, then climbed up to straddle me. Hot and wet met hard and ready. I grabbed her hips and kept her from moving.
“Hayden,” she groaned.
Her ponytail flared out over her shoulder, the nipple shield barely visible through the cascade. She was my ultimate temptation, gorgeous and willing and so full of fire. It would be so easy to just slip inside, but I slowed things down.
“I need you. Please.” She kissed me, all soft and sweet.
“You think it’s different for me?”
“Then take me, for fuck’s sake!”
I laughed and she bit my lip, but she was smiling and she melted right into me, as if she understood.
There would never be another one of these firsts: Tenley’s first finished back piece, and the first time I’d ever put something so significant on someone I loved. It was pretty damn momentous. So I was going to savor this experience. And she let me.
We were as close as we could get, fused in every way. In the years between loss and living, I’d forgotten what it was like to love. I didn’t know how it felt to be whole, to be present in my own life.
Then Tenley came along and made me aware of everything I’d been missing but was too afraid to acknowledge. Just as she’d been running, so had I, but I was past that now. I had closure—but more than that, I had her. Tenley was the inception, my new beginning, the rebirth I’d been striving for. She embodied the phoenix embedded in my skin, rising from the ashes to start again.
In this, we were marked by one another. It went far beyond ink on skin. It went right down to the soul.
In this life, for as long as we had, we would be each other’s armor.
About the Author
While searching for her next Twilight fix, Helena Hunting stumbled upon a whole new sub-culture of writing – fan fiction. The stories she found compelled her to start writing again and the story of Hayden and Tenley was born. Clipped Wings and Inked Armour took several fan fiction sites by storm, and have now been fully realised as complete novels for the first time. Helena lives in Ontario, Canada. To find out more visit www.helenahunting.com
By Helena Hunting
Cupcakes and Ink (ebook original)
Clipped Wings
Inked Armour
Cracks in the Armour (ebook original)
Inked Armor Page 33
