by Lisa DeBells
I took the few steps to the counter. My confidence ignited with alcohol, brimmed to the surface as I met her head on.
“Hi there. I’m wanting to get a . . . tattoo.” My voice came out a little squeaky. I didn’t want to sound unsure of myself; after all, this was my bright idea. I squared my shoulders and waited for her response. Her top lip curled up and lifted to one side as she snickered, showcasing straight pearly-white teeth. Her eyes did a once-over from my face and down my body, all the way back up again.
“A tattoo, huh? We don’t take walk-ins,” Miss 50s Pin-Up said snidely, and started to turn away dismissing me rudely.
“I want a tattoo. You’re obviously open.”
The woman turned, and glared mockingly at me. Was it possible to shoot daggers from those pretty brown eyes?
“Let me talk to the boss.” I reached the desk with one more step and toyed with a business card I found on the counter. It was black with red writing. Swirls of color advertised Mitchell Stone as being the owner. I turned the name over in my mind and popped the card into my clutch and waited.
“You’re crazy, lady. I suggest you go home and sober up. You are not getting tattooed in this shop tonight, or probably ever. Don’t let the door hit you.” This time, she did move away from the counter. She had caught the attention of others.
Well if she was going to play like that, so would I. “I think you are the crazy one, lady.”
She swiveled around to face me. If looks could burn, I would be toast right now. “Obviously you haven’t been trained in customer service. I want to see the owner.” My voice rose an octave, the words coming out through gritted teeth.
“I don’t think you understand how we operate, here, in this shop. People make appointments and wait their turn. It could take six weeks to have your ink done. Obviously, a rich little princess like you isn’t used to waiting for anything.”
I was exasperated. My mouth dropped open and closed, several times. If she thought she was going to scare me off, it wouldn’t be that easy. My usual calm composure was threatening to blow up, and all over this fake Pin-Up wannabe.
This was it; the last thread of my calm composure was at snapping point. “You don’t know me, or where I come from.” Why couldn’t I just let it be? How dare she assume that I was rich? Just because I was dressed well and had expensive shoes on did not mean I was handed my wealth on a silver platter. A litany of profanity expelled forth from my mouth. It seemed the alcohol had loosened my tongue as every high school taunt I could remember spewed out like verbal diarrhoea. I knew that in close to twelve hours I would regret saying it.
Her jaw tensed as her eyes narrowed into slits, shocked designated at my words, her equilibrium returned quickly as she taunted me straight back, this chick was unflappable and for that I had to give her some respect. This grudge match was clearly not my forte.
There was commotion and noise coming from somewhere; not myself, or the gorgeous bitch slinging oaths at me. I stopped to look for the voice when it became louder than the argument that had taken over the room and everyone’s attention.
“Minnie . . . hey, darlin. Calm the shit down.” The voice boomed louder, commanding, as it got closer and effectively shut us both up. I stopped mid-sentence, awestruck as I lay my eyes on what would have to be the most beautiful face of a man I had ever seen. And, as I could only see him from the waist up—the front counter blocked the rest—I was transfixed.
He was talking to Minnie—what a stupid name that was, in hushed tones, holding her face between his palms oh so gently. Intimately. A pang of something hit my stomach, a jealous twinge perhaps, balled in my belly at their intimacy, focusing all of his attention on calming her, while she placed a possessive hand on his chest and lost herself in his face as she nodded transfixed.
His hair was about five different shades of light, from honey-wheat, to golden-brown, with a smattering of blonde around his face. It hung in tousled waves to his collar. The look was artful chaos and I couldn’t imagine anyone else pulling it off, as if on cue, a masculine lightly tanned hand ran its way through the luxurious waves. All my girl bits clenched deliciously albeit in vain. I wanted to see more of him: the rest of the package.
Minnie crooked her head in my direction, signalling her explanation for the drama that had unfolded. By the way—Minnie. Was that even a name? It must stand for miniature brain. Who was he, anyway? The manager? The owner? Maybe her boyfriend. That thought pissed me off, for some reason.
I tried to saunter unaffected, if that’s at all possible, to the front window of the shop where there was a waiting area. There was a lounge and a coffee table, piled with tattoo magazines. I toyed with the idea of just walking out and jumping into the waiting safety of my vehicle parked, hopefully, out on the curb, but something rooted my feet to the spot.
I could see the lights of passing cars. They looked like shooting stars on such a dark night. Maybe I would come back another day. I hadn’t thought my decision through very thoroughly. If at all, affirmed my voice of reason.
I knew if I turned back towards Golden Boy and Minnie that I would see the whole package, from head to toe, and if his head was anything to go by, I was sure the rest would be just as enticing. I really shouldn’t do it but the devil on my shoulder was winning tonight.
Hastily, I did a one-eighty, and immediately I was hit with the full force of him. Our eyes locked on one another. I couldn’t look away. The challenge to do so was evident in his piercing, green eyes, his eyebrows raised questioningly, sizing me up and assessing the situation. He darted his tongue out to lick his full bottom lip, I wanted to run my tongue down the center of his throat and kiss every inch of his bronzed neck. Or maybe he was about to kick my trouble making ass onto the street. I wasn’t bothered by that, this was one sided Insta love. I was sure we were connecting like an electrical current. My body started to thrum with it.
I watched his eyes move from my face down my body. It looked like he was stripping me bare in his mind. I felt so vulnerable and wickedly turned on at the same time. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, imaging all the delicious things. His square jaw was set tight, gaze ravenous, lingering at my breasts, eyes tasting me like a was his favorite meal and hadn’t eaten it in five years. I took a deep breathe as his gaze snapped back to my face.
My legs where weighted to the spot, yet I felt as light as a feather. Unable to move, I watched him close the distance between us. He was pure sex and sin on legs, sauntering toward me like a lion about to seize its prey.
“No one inks her but me.” The deep timbre of his voice rushed through my body, enlivening my blood, bringing ever erogenous zone and then some sputtering back to life while never braking eye contact. My jaw popped open out of surprise. The statement felt oddly sexual, as if he’d claimed proprietorship over me.
He stopped a foot in front of me, just as well. Any closer and I would be running my horny fingers through his lustrous hair, confirming that he was indeed flesh and blood. I gripped my purse instead. He wore a black V-neck T-shirt that tapered down far enough so that I could see where his chest muscles met. One of his forearms was heavily tattooed with black and grey, images that I didn’t pay much attention to. My eyes drank him in; he was like some golden haired angel that was put on earth to seduce all of womankind and he knew it. Then he smirked and my libido lit up like fireworks, one side of his lips tipped up, knowingly. I was entranced by the package he presented. Oh dear, he was bad-boy defined; a man who does not conform to approved standards of behaviour, especially in a particular sphere of activity. Non conformist and mysterious.
We stood close enough for me to smell him, and God help me but the four elements ocean, earth, wind and fire, had nothing on this man. He was the quintessential fifth element and out of this fucking world. His close proximity sent a thrill all the way to my hardening nipples. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. I glanced at his waist and saw a hint of tan flesh. My mouth watered. I wanted to press my body hard up
against his, feeling every hard muscle on offer.
“So, you’re the pocket rocket that has Minnie’s knickers in a knot.” His voice was deep and husky; it caressed my senses. I could tell he was goading me. A playful smile tipped his lips up; they were full and sensual. In my expert opinion, would be quite lovely to kiss. I struggled to find my voice, something I hadn’t had a problem with five minutes ago.
“Perhaps someone needs to teach Minnie some manners.” Yep, found it. Just thinking about Minnie had me antsy all over again. I folded my arms across my chest defensively, bringing his attention down to my breasts, my deep breaths causing my ample bosom to rise and fall as he bit his bottom lip. Lord help me but I wanted to do the same . . . to him.
He threw his head back and laughed. I watched, transfixed at his throat, his Adam’s apple, bobbed up and down while another mini fantasy played out in my fuddled brain again. Compose yourself, woman, I scolded myself. The sounds reverberated through me long after he was done laughing. I had to get a grip. Liquor laced with him was a lethal cocktail that I was thirsty to drink.
I pinched my arm to remind myself why I was here. Tattoo; that’s right. I wobbled in here on these ridiculously high heels, caused an argument, and now I was faced with talking myself out of this strange situation.
Anyway, was he laughing with me at Minnie, or at me, because no one could possibly rival her. Seriously, who could compete with her long, pale legs? She showcased them in a pair of tight shorts and a tucked-in white shirt. The buttons were exploding from the war her breasts were waging on them. I mean, just buy the next size up!
"We’re closed, but I get the feeling that won’t deter you.” He gestured with his arm to the lounge. “Come, sit down and lets discuss.” This was it. I was on the cusp of another decision that should be simple: say sorry, thanks but no thanks, and walk away, you can find another tattooist, one not so hot and intimidating.
But that was my rational self again. She needed to shut the fuck up and get cozy on the couch. I walked and sat on the edge of the chair, deciding not to get too comfortable. He sat down next to me, not too close, which was great, because I was way too affected already.
“My name’s Mitchell.” He looked at me expectantly, his clear green eyes sparkled and his full lips turned up showcasing a perfect row of teeth. He looked so wild and untamed yet reserved all at once, like there was a wall behind those eyes that no-one got to penetrate.
“Eden.” Was all I could manage.
He waited, and just before it could become awkward, continued, “Now you came in here and, according to Minnie, who is very proficient at her job, you demanded a tattoo without an appointment,” he scolded. “That is something we never do. And then, when you were told no, possibly in some unpleasant form as that’s Minnie’s way, you demanded to see the manager.”
The more he spoke the worse I felt. I really had behaved like a spoilt brat. I was going to chalk this one up to being under the influence; the effects were still clearly befuddling my brain. Sadly, my ego wasn’t about to let me become penitent for my actions.
“When you put it like that, I do sound quite presumptuous.” Honesty was key. “I was just driving past, saw the sign and I um . . . I’m looking for something.” Christ, this confession came out of left field. Mitchell would be showing me the door any second. “Sorry, it’s time for me to leave.” I cupped my mouth with my hand. I didn’t need any more honesty to dribble out.
Mitchell looked at me, really looked, in a way that felt like he was assessing my words, tasting them, and waiting to see in my eyes if what I was saying were true. I had learnt a lot in the last few months; guarding myself now was what would keep me from making the wrong decision. I looked away first.
“Like I said, I will ink you, but not tonight. Well, actually, not this morning. You do know it’s five a.m, right ?” Cue the sardonic grin. It was lopsided, and did amazing things to a dimple in his cheek, and the tiny creases around his expressive eyes.
He pulled my hand away from my face clasping it in both of his, I felt his warmth travel up my arm and zing through me like lightning. I closed my eyes briefly and took in his words: He will ink me. I could handle that. Could I handle that? Its five a.m.
Holy crap! It’s five fucking a.m. My car had better be where I’d left it. Cue the little rich girl. A drunk giggle bubbled up in my throat, and I smiled for the first time since walking into this place. I withdrew my hand regretfully out of Mitchell's.
“I need to get home. This is you ?” I pulled his card out of my purse and held it in between my fingers.
“That’s me. Mitchell Stone. Call me Mitch, Eden . . .?”
“White.” I blurted out quickly, meeting his green sparkling orbs, which I’m sure were illegal in twenty-six states.
“Call me and I’ll book you in. You can bring in some ideas and I will put my spin on it or you tell me what you want and I’ll design it. Either way, this is one tattoo that I’m going to take pleasure in doing.” He winked at me and smiled again.
I shook my head. Was he flirting with me? “Hmmm you’re confident, Mitchell.”
“It’s one of my best qualities, Eden.” I was sure he had many. Was it possible to get sucked in this fast? His angelic face, possessive deep voice, and body like a Greek God; wild horses couldn’t drive me away. I shook away the image of him pushing me up against a brick wall in the dead of night, kissing me senseless, pulling my dress up to my waist and moving his hands over my ass pulling me to him.
“I’m sure . . .” I stood, knocking some magazines off the table. I bent to pick them up. Mitchell’s hands met mine again as he took them off me. His look told me to leave them. My head felt a little dizzy as I stood.
“Thanks, Mitchell, it was a pleasure.” I said using his word.
“Yes, an unexpected one.” My blue eyes settled on green eyes. I wasn’t ready to call it a night, this might be my last time looking at him. His facade dropped, he looked vulnerable, like he’d been wounded before. Its a strange concept to feel safe with a stranger, to trust so soon. And just like that the mask was back in place, he was one very confounding man.
“Good night.”
“Good morning.” We both laughed. I savored him, committing every detail of his face. I would save them for later when I could totally assess what the fuck had just happened. I needed a therapy session with Ariel for this one.
Walking outside bought me back through the portal and into the normal world I lived in, where gorgeous tattooed men with invisible scars and secrets hiding behind ravishing eyes didn’t exist. The fresh air blew over my bare legs. I was thankful for the jacket that I had left on. I stood several meters away from the shop front.
“Where the fuck is my car?” I muttered under my breathe. Holy crap NO! I ran a few steps to the curb, exactly where I had exited the vehicle. SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. He was gone. A nervous feeling crept up my spine, tiny veins of fear snaking through my body. Don’t panic, you have your phone, said my voice of reason.
I pulled my cell out of my bag and slid the touch screen on; nothing happened, so I tried again in vain. FUCK, it was dead. I looked back into the shop front; all the lights had been turned off. I rushed down the street. Maybe the driver had parked around the corner. Double fuck shit! Dread spiked in my chest and settled like lead in the pit of my stomach. I willed the tears not to fall. I could handle this.
Surely someone would still be shutting down the shop, maybe Mitchell. I flinched at a loud noise. The streets were deserted and wet from early morning drizzle. My heartbeat ratcheted in my ears.
The air was cold and fresh as I sucked it through my mouth. I ran up to the door, thinking it might push open, but nope, it wouldn’t budge. I started to bash on it frantically. I’m such an idiot; why did I stop on my way home? I should be in bed asleep . . . BASH BASH BASH on the door, my heavy breathing and the sounds of my hand was all I could hear.
The lead welled up from my stomach. It felt like it had after Anthony, when I was lef
t a useless used and humiliated woman, something I’d vowed to never become again. The stone around my heart was granite and unbreakable, but right now I was alone, nowhere near home and wrecked from the alcohol. I started to yell to anyone who might be inside the tattoo shop.
I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me or the voice that asked if I needed help, but I did feel the arms that wrapped around me from behind, causing me to scream. Arms that were more powerful than my own spun me 180 degrees. In doing so, I instinctively kneed and kicked and pushed with all of my might to get this body off me.
“Hey . . . hey, stop fighting, for fuck’s sake. I’m trying to help.” With that I was finished, done for. I looked up into familiar eyes and let my body go limp against his.
Surprise registered in his face. “Eden.” He pulled me against his chest and murmured into my ear, asking if I was okay. Probing up and down my arms.
Fuck no, not in any sense of the word. I wished I were more coherent to delight in his arms, his sweet breath tickling my ear.
Spots danced before my eyes, it was all too much and I didn’t want to fight it anymore. It had been a long night and my mind was becoming fuzzy as I tried to blink and pulled back to look into Mitchell’s eyes, hoping their green depth would help me focus. All it did was confuse me further.
“I feel like shit.”
“You still look gorgeous.”
I stifled a sob through the fear-laced haze. I’d known Mitchell for less than thirty minutes, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, I could trust him.
“Need to get you home, little lady. Someone’s had a big night.” What a smart-ass, and how did he guess?
I rattled off my address as he pulled me to his side and walked us to his car. All I registered was the smell of the soft leather seats and the car door slamming before I gave in to the darkness.
