by Ann Omasta
He chose that moment to look at her. His gaze was intense, and she wondered if he might cross the room and kiss her. Instead, he said, “I should go,” took his gear, and quickly left her office, shutting the door behind him.
“Well, for someone who normally moves so slowly and gracefully, he sure hightailed out of here,” she said to her large, now empty office. “So much for that,” she decided sadly before turning on her heel and heading back to her massive desk. With a huge sigh of frustration, she sat down to begin the lonely task of catching up on her neglected emails.
It wasn’t long until she opened her drawer and dug into her secret stash of mini Hershey bars. Chocolate normally made everything better, but tonight it seemed that no amount of the sweet and delicious candy bars could ease her stress.
7
Selena was only half-listening as Todd went through her agenda for the day and gave her a rundown of everything she needed to know. He was reading through her phone messages when he finally caught her attention.
“Oh, and that massage therapist guy, Hunter, called.” Even though Todd’s voice had been monotone, he had said the magic buzzwords that made Selena snap to attention.
“He did?” She asked with more enthusiasm in her voice than she intended. She tried rather unsuccessfully to tone it down when she asked, “What did he want?”
Todd was already narrowing his perceptive green eyes at her. “You like him!” He accused jovially, already enjoying himself.
“No,” Selena scoffed, trying to sound believable. “We just had a very awkward moment, thanks to YOU.” She glared pointedly at her assistant, who held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Excuse me for having a life,” he defended his decision to leave the office without telling her goodbye. “I figured you’d be in here working half the night away. I couldn’t have known you were sleeping on the job.”
She narrowed her gaze at him in response to his somewhat accurate accusation. As much as she wanted to blame him for what had happened, she knew it was as much her fault as anyone’s. Besides, she cherished her friendship with Todd and enjoyed their easy banter with one another. No one else stood up to her like he did. It was refreshing to have someone around who would tell her when she was being ridiculous.
Her glare at him had already morphed into a smile. “Are you going to tell me what he wanted?” She threw the wadded up napkin from her morning bagel in his direction.
“Oh, assistant abuse!” He pretended to be outraged by her tossed napkin.
“Tell me what he wanted, or I’m going to throw this stapler at you,” she teased him.
“Again?” He gave it right back to her.
She couldn’t help chuckling at him, but she was dying to know why Hunter had called. “Tell me!” she demanded.
“Okay, okay.” Todd finally gave in. “He wanted to suggest that you come into his tattoo parlor to get your daiths pierced.”
“My what?!?” She raised her dark, perfectly shaped brows at him, even as she processed the interesting tidbit that Hunter had a tattoo studio.
“Your daiths,” Todd pronounced the word slowly and loudly. “It’s this part of your ear,” he pinched a section of the cartilage on the inner fold of her ear.
“Ouch!” she snapped, pulling back from him. “Why would I want to do that?”
“It’s supposed to help with migraines,” Todd explained.
She leaned her head to the side and lightly squeezed the area of her ear that Todd had just pinched. “How would that help?” She felt skeptical, but would be willing to try about anything to get rid of the mind-numbing migraines that debilitated her on a regular basis.
“It’s something to do with pressure points or acupuncture or some other mumbo jumbo. I don’t know all of the specifics… look it up on Google.”
“I thought you were my Google,” she teased him as he turned to leave.
She was already looking up daith piercings on her computer, so she didn’t even bother to respond when Todd mumbled, “I’m your everything else,” on his way out of her office.
Ten minutes later, she buzzed the intercom for her assistant. “Make me an appointment with Hunter for daith piercing,” she ordered into the phone, without preamble. They spoke to each other several times each hour, so neither bothered with the usual pleasantries after their first discussion of the day.
“I don’t think he does them himself,” Todd informed her, before adding, “but I’ll get you an appointment at his studio.”
“I want Hunter to do it,” she specified, trying to make it sound like she would only accept the best, even though she was uncertain if Hunter even knew how to do daith piercings. He was the owner of the facility, so he must know how, right?
“I’ll take care of it,” Todd responded in his all-business tone.
“Thank you,” she used the same professional, snippiness that he had suddenly adopted. As soon as they hung up, she stood and began pacing her office.
She wasn’t sure whether she was more nervous about having two holes poked in her head or seeing Hunter again.
8
Selena stressed about everything regarding her appointment with Hunter. What did one wear to a tattoo parlor? Would she get sick or pass out? What if she bled everywhere? How bad would it hurt? Would he be happy to see her again, or would he think she was stalking him?
He was the one who had called to tell her about the daith piercing idea, but he hadn’t said anything about him doing it himself. She was the one who had insisted on that. The concern that she was being too forward and pushy weighed heavily in her mind, but she wanted to see him again too much to cancel the appointment.
She drove herself to the tattoo studio, not wanting to have the limo draw even more attention to her. Sitting in the car alone in front of the studio, which was aptly named Tats and All That, she debated whether or not she should even go inside.
In an effort to look like she belonged in such a sketchy place, she had worn her dark wash jeans with ankle boots, a thick, white, fitted cotton tee shirt, and several silver necklaces. She looked down at her outfit and decided that it just made her look like she was trying way too hard.
She started her sports car and debated her options as it rumbled loudly. Normally, she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, but for some reason, Hunter made her extremely nervous. The thought of going back home to her lonely penthouse condo to hang out with Mr. Whiskers had her turning the car’s engine back off and heading inside before she could chicken out again.
Once inside, she immediately regretted her decision to come here. This establishment definitely wasn’t the type of place where she belonged. The walls were decorated with hundreds of tattoo and piercing ideas––many of them with photos of the body art on actual people. It appeared the studio’s patrons were more than willing to have any part of their body worked on, and then they wanted their picture on the wall to show it off.
Selena was cringing in sympathetic pain as she looked at the picture of one woman’s multitude of nipple piercings. She couldn’t imagine what would entice someone to put herself through that.
She had been so engrossed in the pictures that she hadn’t noticed the man who emerged from the back and now stood behind the counter. His deep voice startled her when he asked. “See something you like?”
She turned to face him and discovered that his face and neck were covered with numerous piercings and tattoos. “Oh!” she self-consciously brought a hand to her collarbone as she fidgeted with one of her necklace chains. He seemed to be expecting an answer, so she tried to sound casual as she complimented their artwork. “You have some lovely options, but I work in a professional environment, so I couldn’t possibly do this to my skin.”
Biting her lip with anxiety, she hoped her response didn’t sound nearly as snooty to him as it did to her own ears. This wasn’t going at all how she had planned.
“Yeah, you don’t look like our typical customers.” He gave her a lopsided smile, whic
h she hoped meant that he hadn’t been offended by her words.
She couldn’t help but wonder if it pained him to smile. She had never seen someone with so many piercings. Realizing that she was staring at the large oblong circles that made his earlobes dangle down nearly to his chin, she said the first thing that came into her head. “Does all of that hurt?”
“Nope,” he said simply, not seeming to be at all annoyed by her question. “Looking to have some piercings done?” She could tell by his tone and the raised brow with five rings through it that he was teasing her.
“Actually, yes,” she cleared the frog that had suddenly lodged in her throat. “I have an appointment with Hunter to have my daiths pierced.”
“Oh, Boss Man doesn’t do piercings, but I can hook you up,” he assured her.
She could feel her eyes bulging as the tatted and pierced clerk tried to guide her to the back of the studio. “Oh, no,” she fought back. “I want Hunter to do it.” She dug her heeled black ankle boots in and refused to be led anywhere. Her formidable height and stubborn stance made it clear that she wasn’t going to be bullied into anything.
“Have it your way,” the young man said, apparently done with her. “Boss Man, there’s a…” he paused during his yell to the back, obviously trying to decide what he should call her, “…woman out here to see you.”
She wondered if he would have called her a bitch, if she hadn’t been within earshot, but she tried not to worry about it too much. Before long, Hunter emerged from the back, and she immediately felt better at the sight of him. His presence was somehow calming, despite the fact that her heart was hammering wildly within her chest.
He smiled when he saw her, which she took as a good sign. He was taller and had broader shoulders than she remembered. He looked like he belonged here, but he had looked like he fit within the confines of her corporate environment as well. He must be one of those chameleons that could blend in anywhere. She, on the other hand, knew that she stuck out like a sore thumb in his environment.
His eyes twinkled and his expression was filled with warmth when he asked what he could do for her. She couldn’t help being dazzled by him, despite the fact that she hadn’t been mesmerized like this by anyone… ever.
“I’d like to have my daiths pierthed,” she was horrified when her ears heard her mouth flub the word. “Pierced,” she clarified, even though he undoubtedly knew what she meant.
Brian, the last man she had dated for any length of time would have grabbed the opportunity to make fun of the faux pas. He would have mimicked her, “Pierthed, huh?” and guffawed with laughter. Hunter, however, took the high road. He revealed a gorgeous smile, nodded, and ushered her behind the curtain and into the back of the studio.
9
She was pleasantly surprised at the plush office that he led her into. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been the luxurious accommodations that she found. Rather than sitting at his large desk with her across from him, he sat on the dark leather sofa. She sat on the other end of it and nervously fidgeted with the decorative charm on her ridiculously expensive handbag.
He helped ease the tension by speaking first. “So, you got my message about daith piercings as an alternative treatment for migraines.”
It was more of a statement than a question, but she nodded her head in confirmation. “And I assume you’ve done your research on it?” This time he was clearly expecting an answer.
She responded with another nod, but added, “I have.” Wanting to fill the void of silence that ensued, she began chattering. “I know it’s not a miracle cure, but if there’s any chance that it will help with my debilitating headaches, it’s worth a shot. When I get a full-blown migraine, it completely shuts me down. I can’t miss work whenever one decides to strike. There are too many people depending on me.”
He tilted his head and then seemed to look at her with fresh eyes. “It’s lovely that you look at it that way. Before I met you, I would have assumed you would be worried about the loss of money more than any harm it would do anyone else.”
His blatant honesty stunned her, but she appreciated it. “Lots of people think I’m all about the money,” she smiled sadly before going on, “but that’s the one thing I don’t have to worry about. I have plenty of that.”
“I suppose you do,” he finally answered. “It’s refreshing to find out that it’s not your top priority, though.” Shifting gears, he went through some paperwork with her and had her sign a waiver before saying, “It sounds like you are well-prepared. I’ll have Bones get set up to do your piercings.” He stood as if to leave.
She wasn’t sure who Bones was, but she was certain she didn’t want him or her poking any holes in her head. Even though she’d only known Hunter a short time, he was the kind of person that evoked her trust. If anyone would be poking a needle through her ear cartilage, she wanted it to be him. “Wait,” she squeaked as he headed for his office door. “Can’t you do it?”
“I haven’t done any piercings for a long time,” he admitted. “Besides you’ll be in good hands with Bones. He’s one of the best,” he assured her before turning again as if to leave.
“But I want you,” her voice was barely above a whisper. He must have heard because he stopped, with his back to her on his way to the door. When his head snapped up and his torso tensed, she knew the flirty double entendre of her words had sunk in.
Turning to face her, he gave her a long, intense look. She lifted her chin, not backing down a bit from his scrutiny. Finally, his lips turned up a bit and he responded, “Then you can have me.”
She could feel her cheeks burning with heat. It was a new sensation to her. She was used to being the confident owner of any situation. Blushing over a flirtatious comment was not her style, but it felt strangely delightful.
The silence hung heavy in the air for a bit as they gazed at each other. Hunter came to his senses first. “I’ll go get the piercing kit,” he informed her, and he was gone. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and tilted back her head to stare at the beautiful embossed silver tin ceiling tiles. Despite how lovely the ceiling was, she couldn’t focus on anything other than listening for Hunter’s returning footsteps. She was anxious to return to their flirtatious exchange.
When Hunter arrived with a tray of sterilized instruments, she began to feel a bit panicky. She had assumed it would be a simple needle, but the array of tools he was arranging made it look like he was getting ready to perform major surgery.
He indicated for her to come sit on the large, maneuverable chair beside the table where he had set up the tray holding his torture instruments. Her stomach felt a little queasy, but she didn’t want to back out now. She squeezed her hands into fists so tight that her perfectly manicured nails dug into her palms, but she complied with his request.
When he eased the chair back so that she was again staring at the intricately detailed ceiling, she tried to swallow around the burning ball of bitter grapefruit that seemed to have lodged itself in her throat.
“Nervous?” he asked her, looking down at her with perceptive eyes.
She couldn’t do anything more than nod. She didn’t trust her voice to work properly. The fear was coursing through her veins like ice water. She had only known the immense pleasure of Hunter’s touch. She wasn’t looking forward to having him on the other side of a large needle from her.
Wondering if she was making a huge mistake, she took a few deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm down. Her eyes rolled around as she tried to look anywhere but at the scary instruments Hunter had brought in to use on her.
“Which side of your head do you most often get your migraines on?” he asked her. “We’ll start with that one, in case you chicken out and don’t want to go through with the other side.”
His gentle ribbing effectively brought out her stubborn side. “I won’t chicken out,” she told him fervently, even as she tightly closed her eyes and silently vowed
to keep that promise.
Taking pity on her, he took her clenched hand in his own. Gently unfolding her fingers, he began massaging her hand with his thumb. He found pressure points that she didn’t even realize she had as he worked the tension out of her through her palm. When he focused his attention on each of her fingers, her mouth nearly fell open with the pleasure of it.
When he finished, her hand fell limply to her side––all signs of tension having been released. She was delighted when he reached across for her other hand and began giving it the same luxurious treatment. By the time he was done, she felt as smooth and fluid as molten lava.
In one smooth move, he presented her with a soft stuffed animal, whispered in her ear that it would only hurt for a second, and crunched the needle through the cartilage in the middle of her ear. She startled more with surprise than pain, and then cringed as she heard the magnified sound of the thread pulling through her skin to secure the tasteful silver loop through the new holes in her ear.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked as he used cotton to clean her ear.
She assumed he was wiping up blood with it, but tried not to think about it too much. “No,” she answered him, “It wasn’t bad at all.” She inspected the stuffed toy he had handed her. It was a small dog of some sort. “Do you keep this on hand for big wimps, like me, who need to be comforted during their procedures?” She asked, turning to grin at him.
“I work such long hours that it wouldn’t be right to have a real dog, even though I’d love to have one, so I keep Bubba here instead.” He answered before grinning down at her and adding, “And, yes, he helps with the weenies too.”
She chuckled despite herself. She understood his feelings about the dog. She had always been in the same predicament––wanting the unconditional love of a dog, but working far too many hours to give one a good home. Mr. Whiskers was the perfect pet for her. He only wanted the briefest bit of attention before he went back to his normally sulky feline self.
