Rock Me

by Cherrie Lynn

  “I was going to ask if we could, anyway.” She tried to keep her voice even and nonchalant as she said it, but she saw his gaze dart toward her out of the corner of her eye. Her heart kicked up to a frantic pace. It was finally out there.

  “Yeah? Why?”

  “Because of, um…where I want it.”

  She sensed his grin rather than saw it. “Where is that?”

  “I’ll show you when we get there.”

  “I could have one of the girls do it if you’d rather—”

  “No. You.” She struggled to keep her hands steady as she flipped a page. Macy, thumbing through the other book, took that moment to let out a startled yelp. Candace looked over to see that she’d stumbled upon the pictures of body piercings. Of the genital variety, to be more exact. Oh, hell. Macy was flushing crimson to her hair roots. On the page beneath her stricken face was the male genital piercing section.

  Candace choked on an embarrassed laugh, feeling her own blood pool hotly in her cheeks. Brian snickered.

  “Okay, I can’t deal with that,” Macy was babbling. “That’s too much for me. Why anyone would want to—”

  “It enhances sex,” he said, as if the answer should be obvious.

  “The sex I’ve had was just fine; I don’t see the need to torture oneself to make it better.”

  “That sounds like a problem,” Brian told her, and Candace felt like she was watching a tennis match as the two went back and forth.

  Macy’s eyebrows were in her hair. “What problem?”

  “The sex you’ve had was just ‘fine’. Sounds like a problem to me.” He sent Candace a slow wink that turned her knees to mush.

  “What, are you saying you’ve got a…doohickey like that in your…?”

  Brian’s smile was long suffering. “That ‘doohickey’ is a Prince Albert. I only started out with one of those. Eventually I went to an apadravya. Gotta think of the ladies.” He tapped the page, his grin as wicked as sin on Sunday. “In fact, you never know, one of them might be me.”

  Macy pushed away from the counter, having reached the limits of mortification she was willing to endure. Candace tried not to glance down at any of the pictures in question but couldn’t help herself. She had to sneak a peek. Some of them were…well, really impressive, and she wondered if—

  “So are we gonna do this, honey?” he asked, and she looked up into his eyes. They were a beautiful, mysterious shade of dark blue she didn’t think she’d ever seen before. He must wear contacts. Her breath seared through her lungs.

  “I’ve decided. Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Two

  “I have to apologize for my friend.” Candace settled herself on the padded table in one of the small back rooms. “I love her dearly, but not the giant stick up her ass.”

  Brian laughed. “Sorry if I embarrassed you, but I couldn’t resist squicking her out.”

  “So…you were joking, then?” Inquiring minds had to know.

  “About the apa or about putting it on display out there?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “I’ll never tell.” He winked at her before going back to fiddling with his equipment. She hadn’t a clue what any of it was, but it looked scary, and she admired the confidence and efficiency with which he handled it. He’d already gone over all their sanitation techniques as if she were any other customer and he’d selected the colors he would need, which were only red and black. The inks sat in two tiny cups on a table beside her.

  She’d chosen a small blood-red heart design with black tribal art extending out from both sides. Brian had already transferred the purplish outline to her skin…so low on her belly that even the flimsiest bikini bottoms in existence would probably cover most of it up. She often went swimming in her parents’ pool and there was no freaking way they could ever see it, so unless she wanted it smack on her butt or her boob—which she didn’t—it was the only place she could think of.

  Shedding her jeans to mid-thigh and pulling her underwear down until it only covered her most private area had almost been the deal-breaker. When she’d planned out her act of rebellion, she hadn’t really let herself think that far ahead. If she had, she might never have gotten through the front door.

  He’d made her stand while he got down on his knees and rubbed the transfer onto her skin. Thank God she’d waxed. She could only hope he hadn’t noticed how her legs quaked and her nipples beaded at the feel of his fingertips gently smoothing the stencil on. He hadn’t so much as blinked at her dishabille, and she had to keep in mind that he’d probably had hundreds of girls drop their pants in here to get him to do far more risqué body mod than her little tattoo.

  Now, lying on the table with her design perfectly centered and ready to be inked, she stared at the ceiling and tried to concentrate on keeping her breathing steady.

  “Nervous?” he asked, and she looked over to find his steady gaze on her. “You have a certain deer-in-headlights look I’m quite familiar with.”

  “Yeah. Really no use in denying it.”

  “It’ll be all right. Most people compare it to a bee sting.”

  “Which isn’t very fun.”

  “Not fun, but nothing you can’t take, right?”

  “If you say so.”

  He chuckled. “If you need a break, tell me, but I’m betting you won’t. Do you want me to do a dry pass so you can get an idea of what it’s like?”

  Candace considered. “Better not. I might chicken out, but if you go ahead and start, I’m kind of stuck going through with it, right?” Her eyes widened as his black-Latex- covered hands tore open a package containing a needle. “Holy…”

  “Now settle down. It’s not a shot at the doctor’s office. You just get the very tip.” He wheeled the stool he was sitting on closer to her. At that moment she was reminded of being in her doctor’s office, a dreaded event that always made her panic.

  Oh, Jesus. There was no way. She couldn’t get through this. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on the music filtering through the speaker system. It was Killswitch Engage, one of Brian’s favorite bands, if she remembered correctly. The singer had an incredible voice. She focused on that rather than the sounds of him getting his machine assembled—machine, he’d told her, not gun—and testing it out. But that whirring buzz whisked her straight from her doctor’s office to the dentist’s chair, and nothing on earth caused her more anxiety than that. Being helpless, immobile, at the mercy of someone wielding an instrument capable of causing her great, agonizing pain…

  What in the hell had ever made her think she could do this?

  “Have you ever had anyone start to get the tattoo, freak out and not be able to finish?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Everyone’s experience is unique, and yours is the only one that matters.”

  Great. A whimper escaped her lips before she could stop it even though he had yet to lay the first hand on her.

  She must have caught his attention. “Breathe,” he said calmly, and only then did she realize she wasn’t doing so. “Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” She filled her lungs to capacity and exhaled as he instructed, but she was still too frightened to open her eyes and see how close she was to feeling that needle in her skin. “Keep it up. You’re gonna be fine.”

  “I’m glad you’re so sure of that.”

  “How old are you today, sunshine?”

  She smiled, and suddenly wanted to cry. Yeah, that would be utterly cool of her. But he was trying to put her at ease, and maybe she was a fool of the worst sort, but it made her feel cherished somehow. “Twenty-three.”

  Daring a glance at his profile through her lashes, she saw one corner of his mouth tug up. “Twenty-three,” he echoed wistfully. “That was a good year.”

  “Oh, yeah? What was so good about it?”

  He paused before answering. “Hell, I couldn’t really tell you. Just the mere fact that I was younger than I am now, I guess.”

  “You talk like twenty-
seven is old.”

  “Twenty-eight. My birthday was in January.”

  “Oh, right. I haven’t seen you in so long. Happy belated birthday, since I didn’t get to tell you then.” She studied him while she had the opportunity. He’d slapped a black baseball cap on his head and twisted it around backwards to keep his hair out of his eyes. Dressed all in black from head to toe now, down to the gloves he wore, he looked ready to pull off a burglary later tonight.

  His olive skin was maddeningly without blemish. Exquisite lips, full and defined, were framed by a goatee that looked so sleek and soft… How would it feel against her skin if he ever kissed her? Rough or silken? Would it tickle or scratch? She would never find out, but a girl could dream.

  Yeah, a dream some other lucky wench would probably experience for real tonight. What the hell was an apadra-whatever, anyway? She’d have to hit Google as soon as she got home just to figure out what he might have going on down there. She had a feeling he’d only been teasing about the picture, but with the piercing? She would bet good money he had it.

  “Thanks.” He smiled at her. There was a hint of wickedness behind it, a wickedness she’d love to see fully unleashed. On her.

  Maybe it had been a mistake coming here. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her birthday depressed and pining over something she didn’t need and would never have. For so long, Brian had been labeled Michelle’s Boyfriend, pretty to look at, but nothing else. She’d been unprepared for the intensified effect he would have on her now that he’d shaken off that relationship.

  “Are you ready to do this?” he asked.

  One more deep breath… “Yes.” She closed her eyes again, unwilling to give him any more reason to think she was a total wimp.

  “Get through the first few minutes, then your endorphins will kick in and give you a thrill ride.”

  “Riiight.”

  His chuckle turned into an outright laugh when the first touch of his gloved fingers on her lower tummy nearly jolted her off the table. So much for not appearing wimpy. “Candace, you can’t do that when the needle hits,” he scolded.

  “Darn it,” she grumbled, opening her eyes and drawing another breath. “Okay. Just do it. I’m ready. Oh, God.”

  “Here we go.”

  She forced her gaze downward, when it suddenly seemed far more ominous to not see what was going on down there. Even more striking than the sight of the needle hovering over her skin was Brian’s presence there, leaning so close to that part of her. She could smell the mint of his gum. Her heart was racing like a frightened rabbit fleeing a predator.

  With a firm touch he pulled her skin gently taut, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip as the very tip of the needle nudged her. She could imagine those fingers, so close to the lacy edge of her panties, slipping lower to do far more pleasurable things… his touch would be at once gentle and confident in his abilities, as it was now.

  Her eyes closed again. She bet he would know just how to stroke her, just how much pressure to exert to leave her moaning and gasping for more…

  “How does that feel?”

  “Hmmm?” she asked dreamily. Did he even have to ask? It would feel magnificent.

  “Not so bad, is it?”

  Oh, but she wanted it to be bad, bad in the very best way. Just as the outrageous thought flashed through her mind, she realized that the needle tip had been dragging through her skin for the past few seconds and she’d hardly noticed. “Um…that’s it?”

  “That’s it. All that freaking out for nothing.”

  The buzzing went on, the needle leaving a sting in its wake. He paused often to wipe excess ink off her skin with a towel, and she found that the hardest part was lying still under his hands. She wanted to writhe and arch against them. Force them lower. Being trapped and helpless under his control was turning something on inside her, a burning need that had her stomach flipping slow somersaults. An aching throb built between her thighs, inches away from where his left hand rested on her skin.

  She licked her lips, watching his intense expression, his unrelenting focus, and wondered what he would think if he knew what was going on in her head, her body. What he was making her feel.

  When the pleasure-tempered pain of the needle caused her to break out in a fine sheen of sweat, she was wholly grateful they kept it rather cool in here. She began to watch the slow, easy rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. Her own rhythm was growing far too ragged and needy, threatening to dissolve into full-on panting.

  Think about that Probability and Statistics final you have coming up. That should do it.

  “Still with me?” he asked.

  Oh, didn’t he see what he was doing to her? She glanced down before answering. Roughly half the outline was done. Still a while to go. Thank goodness. She wasn’t ready for this to be over yet, because she couldn’t imagine ever finding this agonized bliss again. Unless she came back to him for more. If she did that, she’d end up covered in ink from head to toe.

  “Um, I think so.” And please don’t notice how my voice is quivering.

  No such luck. For the first time since he started, he drew away and faced her fully. She was certain her cheeks were flushed and her forehead was glistening. “Do you need anything? A drink?” he asked.

  That sounded heavenly, but she was probably already making him late for whatever he was doing later. On the other hand, if she was keeping him from some female undeserving of his attentions, that was okay by her. “I’m fine.”

  “We’ll keep going, then. It’s gonna look tight, girl.”

  “Okay.” She supposed that was a good thing.

  He gave a single nod and got back to work. “So what else have you done for your birthday?”

  Now she was actually going to have to carry on a normal conversation with him when she was on the verge of orgasm. Never in her life had she imagined she would ever pray not to have one. But how embarrassing would that be?

  Her earlier question rephrased in her mind. She shouldn’t have asked him whether anyone had ever freaked out and been unable to finish. She should’ve inquired about how many of them lost control and begged him to take them right here. “N-not much. Macy and I have been hanging out for most of the day.”

  “That’s it?”

  She flinched as he passed over a particularly sensitive spot, clenching her teeth when he wiped it with the towel. It was growing more and more difficult to resist rubbing her thighs together. “Pretty much.”

  “I figured some lucky guy would be in the picture by now.”

  Her short bark of laughter was immediately regrettable, and this time, her wince had nothing to do with the burning scrape of the needle tip. “No, no guys, lucky or otherwise. Oh, God, that’s starting to get to me.”

  “The needle, or the lack of guys?”

  Both. “I meant the needle.”

  “You’re doing great.”

  “Where are you going later?” she blurted, and was momentarily aghast at her impulsiveness. Chalk it up to desperately needing a distraction from the towering need pulsing at her core.

  “Family function. My brother’s birthday is next weekend, but we’re all getting together tonight. I don’t know why now and not next weekend.” He shrugged. “I was just informed my presence was required. Hey, did you hear I’m an uncle now?”

  Ah, no date. So much sweet relief swooped through her that she momentarily forgot everything else…until she realized that didn’t mean he wasn’t seeing someone already. What if he had a girlfriend? “Yes, I’d heard. Congratulations. I bet he’s so cute. You must be excited.”

  “It’s pretty cool.”

  “No wonder you’re…um, dressed up a bit. Or down. Or whatever.” It was hard to resist the urge to touch his eyebrow, where the two rings usually resided. Heck, who was she kidding. It was hard to resist grabbing him and pulling him on top of her.

  Especially when he grinned like he did then. “My mom will be there, and my body art drives her nuts.” />
  Candace could sympathize, but it drove her nuts in an entirely different way.

  “I try to accommodate her,” he went on. “Sometimes. Most days I just don’t give a damn.”

  “How long has it taken you to get all your tattoos?”

  “I started when I was eighteen. It’s been a couple of years since I got a new one, and to tell you the truth, I think I’m done. And I never was about the really extreme shit. I’m actually pretty fucking tame, by some standards.” He shook his head, his gaze still intent upon his work.

  She repressed a sigh. Nothing about him was tame, at least, not to her. She’d been brought up in such strict surroundings and her friends monitored so carefully, she hadn’t been around people like him growing up. Homeschooling had kept her sheltered from the world most of her life. It wasn’t that her parents were religious freaks or anything like that, they just thought most things were…beneath them.

  College, needless to say, had been an utter, almost incapacitating shock. It had taken some begging, fast talking, and several tears to get her parents to allow her to attend the neighboring university. They had only given in on the condition that she live here in town under their watchful eye, and commute forty-five minutes every day, which was the only plus they could see in not sending her off somewhere smaller and way more prestigious. She’d accepted those terms grudgingly.

  As much as the thought of having her own life away from here had appealed, in the end she’d balked, so she really had no one to blame but herself that she was twenty-three and still living a life dictated by her mom and dad.

  Not for long. Her new tattoo was only the first in a series of changes she wanted to make. Soon. There was no reason she and her parents couldn’t coexist in the town she grew up in and loved without having them run every aspect of her life.

  The coloring part of the process wasn’t nearly as intense, and it even tickled, wringing a giggle from her every so often. If she did it on purpose a couple of times just to watch Brian’s lips curl up and his eyes crinkle at the corners, well, he didn’t have to know that.

  When he sat up straight and announced it was done, she didn’t think she had ever felt such a rush of excitement or pride in herself. She’d done it. Without utter embarrassment. The little black-and-blood-red design was perfect, with remarkable shading. And it was all hers, something her parents couldn’t take away even if they did find out.