If Only (Captured) Page 4

  “I designed it, and my brother did it for me.”

  “Wow,” is all I can say, tearing myself away from the too intense eye contact.

  “That’s some tattoo, Joe,” Su adds, thoroughly composed. “They all are. You and your brother are so talented. This place has got a really good reputation, that’s why my boyfriend recommended it to us. Did you do Adam’s?”

  “Most, yeah, but our uncle did his earlier ones,” he says, as he puts his shirt back on.

  I noticed when we arrived that Adam has a lot of them, more than Joe, and they’re all in color. They’re amazing as well.

  “Let’s go book you both in,” he says, pulling the door open.

  I arrive home disappointed to find I’ve missed my parents by ten minutes. They have dinner plans tonight, so I knew they’d be going out, but I hoped I could show them my tattoo before they left. What I was hoping, mostly, is that I could finally convince my mom that I did the right thing. It’s fantastic and surpassed my own expectations, and I know I’ll never regret getting it done.

  The moment I turned eighteen I told my mom I wanted a tat. All she asked was that I wait a while and see if I still felt the same. She was concerned about the permanence of it, and my young head. “What if you change your mind in five years? Or when you’re thirty?” I understood her reasoning, but I knew I was positive about it, so I went along with her for her peace of mind. She also said she’d pay for it if I waited. Who knew I’d be getting a second one? I still have the cash I saved, meaning I can easily afford it. I love it when things fall into place like that, don’t you? Anyway, I’ve been patient for the past nine months, but right up until this morning, she was still doubtful. She was fine about the piercings. “Not so permanent,” she said.

  Su’s mom and mine think we’re going through some kind of phase, with the funky hair colors and the ink. That is not the case, we’ve always been quite daring. We’re just now at an age where we can embrace it and express ourselves fully and we have every intention of doing that.

  As I walk through to the kitchen, I know Elena is home by the music coming from the bathroom upstairs. I search the fridge and take out the left-over vegetarian lasagna from last night’s dinner. Once I re-heat it in the microwave, I sit at the kitchen table and eat while flipping through today’s newspaper.

  Elena walks in dressed in a fluffy navy robe. Her shoulders hang low and her lips are softly curved up at the corners. Gosh, I wouldn’t mind a relaxing bath, too, but I can’t with my new tattoo. The idea of having my leg slung over the side of the tub doesn’t exactly suggest relaxation to me.

  My sister and I look like our mom, only, my eyes are a lighter brown than theirs and my natural chestnut colored hair, a match for mom’s, is darker than Elena’s blonde. Otherwise, we’re the same. Oh, and mom’s taller at five-foot-five, I’m an inch under my sister at Five-one. I’m not quite sure where our short asses come from. Dad likes to blame the Irish side.

  Elena’s eyelids pop wide the moment she sees me. “Did you get them done?”

  “Yeah,” I say, shifting my foot out from under the table for her inspection. I peel back the bandage. Even though the surrounding area is red and it looks kind of sore, I adore my tat.

  She gasps. “It’s amazing.” She lingers with astounded focus. After a few moments, her gaze rises to my breasts. “And?”

  Grinning, I nod. I love my pierced nipples, and so will Nick. My mom and my sister cringed at the thought of pain, when I told them what I intended, but that was their only qualms. My dad doesn’t know about them, and I plan on keeping it that way.

  “Can I see?”

  “Sure.” I put the bandage securely back in place and stand up. After taking off my T-shirt, I lift up my bra with care.

  Elena stares at my new additions. “I can’t believe you went through with it. Did it hurt much?”

  “Less than I thought it would, I was more scared than I needed to be. The tat hurt like a bitch, but I kept in mind the things Nick said, like staying calm. Oh, do you remember that collision I almost had a couple months back?” I cautiously put my underwear back in place.

  “Yes.” She nods, with her captivated interest still remaining with my, now covered, chest.

  “The guy was my piercer and tattooist.”

  “No way, are you serious?” She meets my eyes now.

  I nod. “What are the chances? I had to strip in front of him, and he’s totally freaking hot. Beyond hot, in fact.” She muffles her chuckle with her hand over her mouth. “It’s not funny. I couldn’t decide what would be more embarrassing; chickening out, or stripping for him.” Now I giggle with her. He knows what my tits look like.

  “You make sure you don’t have that dopey-eyed look when you show Nick.”

  “What look?”

  “You’re totally crushing on the guy. There’s no harm in finding him cute, but don’t make it so obvious when you show your boyfriend.”

  “I’m not crushing on him, I’m nuts about my man. I’m just telling you Joe was nice.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “Whatever.”

  I put my T-shirt back on and sit at the table, while Elena gets a drink. I won’t mention that I hugged him. Or that I touched his back. Glancing at the finger tips of my right hand, I swear I can still feel him – the warm softness of his skin against mine. The same thing happened after the almost collision. He grabbed my wrist when he was on the ground, and that feeling of his hold stayed with me for days. How weird is that? Anyway. “Su’s going back for hers, and I’m getting another one.”

  “I knew you’d get addicted. Mom won’t be impressed, she said that would happen.” She sits on the chair next to mine.

  “I’m not gonna get obsessed, it’ll only be two. Wait till you see it, it’s a rose vine that matches the one on my foot and I’m having it on the side of my tummy. It’s gonna hurt like hell, but I can’t wait.”

  “Someone’s crushing on their tattooist,” she teases, before sipping her orange juice.

  I ignore her. Even though I know she’s right. No harm done, I’ll only be seeing him one more time.

  Nine: Joe

  The day is done and I’m home, relaxing on the couch. Since leaving the shop, Callie has consumed my thoughts. The intensity of my attraction to her has taken me by surprise, not to mention her making me nervous like that. For a guy who doesn’t even bother to count the number of lovers he’s had, that reaction was strange.

  I don’t know her, but there’s something about that funky little angel.

  Usually it’s simple. I meet a lady, sometimes the two wheels and the ink do the talking, there’ll be flirting for fun, and then we fuck. It really is as straightforward as that. Sometimes I’ll see the chick again, if I want to. I am seeing someone right now, it’s not exclusive and we’re both cool with the arrangement. I don’t have anything against relationships, but I don’t want one now or any time soon.

  I moved to the city with my brother and our buddies, Dane and Gerard, two years ago. When we arrived, where women are concerned, it was like walking into Willie Wonker’s chocolate factory; obscene amounts of chocolate and candy, different colors and flavors, all deliciously over tempting. We’ve indulged to the fullest, and we’re still making the most of it now.

  I have to experience Callie.

  I want to take her slow and savor every single second, like the most exquisite chocolate I’ll ever get to taste and never have the privilege of enjoying again.

  I have to taste her.

  Something tells me she’s not the type of girl who just fucks, she commands more than that, so I need to get to know her first. The follow-up booking – one I arranged on my day off, to have it sooner rather than later – will help with that.

  Though I can’t say I’ve never mixed business with pleasure, I do separate work and chicks as much as possible. For that funky little angel I would break the rules, no problem. If I had it my way, her piercings today would’ve been the foreplay.

  We
’d be the only two in the shop, and I’d take her right there on the table. There she’d sit, wanting me just as much as I want her, her big toffee-brown eyes looking into mine. I’d adjust the bench height, leveling our hips, and kiss the tip of her pretty nose and then her full, alluring rose-pink lips. I imagine they’d be soft and warm, opening, allowing me in for a slow, deep dance.

  Tilting her head back, with a gentle tug on that ponytail of silk, I’d trail kisses down her neck, breathing in her peach scented skin, enjoying the smooth, satiny texture. After teasing her throat with my tongue and teeth, I’d move down to her breasts, being careful not to get too close to her newly pierced nipples.

  Unbuttoning those sexy ripped Levi’s and sliding them down her legs, all the way to her ankles, I’d take them off, closely followed by the pink panties. I’d take off my T-shirt, sink down onto my knees and hook her open thighs over my shoulders. Using my forefingers, I’d part the glistening folds of her pussy and explore her with my tongue. Dipping into her, tasting her tangy, salty-sweet arousal, stroking and circling her clit, over and over again. I’d get lost in her beautiful heaven, taking her all the way to climax, listening to her when she makes it, feeling her pulsating spasms beneath my mouth, and the shaking of her thighs against me.

  I would have to feel her wrapped around me, feel her warm depth.

  After removing my jeans, I’d position myself between her legs and press my latex-covered dick into her tight, wet warmth, until I fill her. I would not allow myself to rush, I’d take my time thrusting slow and deep, savoring every single second, savoring every single sensation. Our names whispered on moans of pleasure, her soft body pressed to mine, the closeness of our skin creating a sizzling heat. Gradually quickening the sweet invasion, but never giving into the temptation to take her hard. Not for the first time.

  First time?

  Yes, I have to have her. And why does it seem like once wouldn’t be enough?

  ****

  Two weeks on from Callie’s piercings and tattoo, and today she’s returned to BlackArt with Su. As we don’t need the privacy on this occasion, we’re out on the shop floor. The atmosphere is different to that of the back room, which is a calmer, quieter place. Out here the buzzing sound of the machines is pretty much constant, and conversation carries along with it. Adam is close by, finishing a design on a guy’s shoulder blade, and Noah, our other artist, is discussing an idea at the front desk with a couple.

  Su’s work will be quickest, so I’m starting with her. She’s having a small red and black heart at the back of her neck, just below the hairline, and a tribal tat at the base of her spine. With Su seated on the table, and Callie’s sitting on a chair in front of her, I stand and start the outline of the heart.

  “You’ve both recently finished high school, right?”

  “Yes,” they answer in unison. They grin at each other following their unintended simultaneous reply.

  “Thank God,” Callie adds.

  “Didn’t you like it?”

  Her gaze rises and locks with mine. “I just love that I can focus on what I actually want to do now.”

  “And that is?”

  “Photography,” she smiles, “I love sculpting, too, but I’ll major in photography.”

  “How ‘bout you, Su?”

  “Journalism. I’m not in the slightest bit artistic.”

  Callie’s perfectly shaped left eyebrow arches. “Your words are your art, Su,” she says, matter-of-factly.

  “You are so right,” Su says, as though this is a revelation.

  I can only laugh at them. I don’t think I’ve seen a friendship like theirs before, and they have no interest in saying what they think they should say. They’re not out to impress, something I also noticed the last time they came here, and that in itself is impressive, as far as I’m concerned.

  Words continue to pass between the three of us, and occasionally Adam and his client. Sometimes just Callie and Su talk. From their short chats, I get to find out something I’ve been burning to know.

  Callie is in a relationship.

  I’m not surprised, I expected she would be. At this point, I would usually have no further interest, or have any desire to see her again. I still want to get to know Callie, but I won’t pursue her in the way I would have, if she’d been unattached. I never go after another guy’s girl, no matter how hot – or, in Callie’s case, beautiful – she is.

  I’m fully aware of what it’s like to be on the receiving end of shit like that.

  After I finish with Su, she switches places with Callie. Adam’s finished with his client, so he sits on a chair beside Su, and they start talking. Noah’s gone for lunch, leaving it as the four of us.

  Callie’s lying back on the table with her lemon-yellow T-shirt pulled up to her bra and the waistband of her short denim skirt rolled down enough to expose her lower tummy. Her mid-section provides the perfect blank canvas for the black, red and pink rose vine I’ve envisioned. It’ll start on the inside of her right hip, travel up around the side of her tummy, and end just below her right breast. It pleases me somewhat to know that whatever happens, unless she decides later on in life to remove her tattoos, the designs carried out by me will always be there. They’ll always be a part of her.

  She’s keeping nice and still, her skin giving off the mild scent of cherries. We’re half way through the outlines and the time we’ve had so far has given me a better insight into her personality. I’ve picked up on two things about her. She’s playful. I can tell that by the way she’s been joking around with Su and Adam. She’s also quite feisty with an attitude. I discovered this in her response to my brother teasing her about being part-Irish. There’s a lot of affection and respect evident when she speaks about her parents. I like that about her.

  I can’t help wondering how Callie would get along with my buddy, Gerard. He’s the group joker and general trouble maker. Though he’s intelligent, he takes few things seriously and lives for the moment. I think he’d thrive off of her, and I suspect she’d be more than capable of taking him on. I have every intention of finding this out.

  Adam and Su are sitting farther back now, still in conversation. I’m filling in the color on Callie’s rose vine now.

  “How did you and Adam come to decide on doing this as a career, Joe?” Callie asks.

  “Well, we both fell in love with drawing the moment we could hold a pencil. Our mom’s a talented artist as well as Gabriel, my uncle. He had a tattoo shop in San Bruno, and in our early teens we started spending time there. We were intrigued to begin with and consequently ended up spending every free moment with him, observing and ultimately learning his craft. He took us on as his apprentices and when we were ready he gave us jobs.”

  “He owns two shops?”

  “Nah, he let the other one go. About three years ago, Gabe and his partner started having problems with each other, so he sold his share of the business to the guy, packed up his home, and came to the city. Adam and I were more than game for the move. Our three closest friends relocated, also.”

  She frees her bottom lip from the grasp of her teeth, her frown of discomfort easing. “A bunch of you came here together?”

  “Yeah, one of them is Adam’s girl, Saffron, her brother, Dane, and our other buddy, Gerard.”

  “But your parents are still in San Bruno?”

  “No, Hillsborough.”

  “So you’re from Hillsborough?”

  “I am.”

  “What job does your mom do?”

  “She’s a partner in a law firm.”

  She curses and sucks in a deep breath. “Dammit,” she mutters to herself. “What about her art?”

  “It’s a hobby.”

  “Right, okay. What does your dad do then?”

  “Nosey you,” I tease.

  “You’re causing me pain; it’s only right you provide a distraction. Also, this is all quite interesting.” I find her so fucking sweet.

  “He’s CEO of a shipping company.�
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  I glance up in time to catch the knitting of her brows, this time her frown is one of surprise. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

  “Why, because Adam and I do this?”

  “I guess. There’s nothing wrong with it, but you might’ve decided to become a lawyer, or worked with your dad. It’s good that you use your talent, I think that’s important.”

  “I agree, and so does my mother, she encouraged us every step of the way.”

  She gasps and whispers another curse. We’re close to finishing, but I’m working over her ribs, a particularly sensitive area. “Not long now, hang in there, you’re doing great,” I encourage.

  “Right, I bet you say that to all your customers.”

  I chuckle, because I know she’s playing. “Only if it’s true.” And it is the truth.

  Adam’s now tattooing a guy’s calf, and Noah’s doing a small shoulder tat on a lady. We’re back to a room of constant buzzing and multiple conversations. Knowing I’m so close to completion, I feel the need to ensure that I get to see Callie again. And not here. Part of my brain is telling me this isn’t cool – she’s some other dude’s girl! That is by far not the most dominant of my thoughts, but I will keep within boundaries, so there’s no harm in it.

  “It’s mine and Adam’s birthday party on Saturday. Why don’t you both come?”

  “How old will you be?” Su asks.

  “I’ll be twenty-three, and he’ll be twenty-four. Our birthdays are a week apart.”

  “I’m cool with it if Callie is. We love to party.” I’m not in the least bit surprised to hear that.

  “You’ll have a lot to talk about with Saffron, Adam’s girl. She arranges parties and events for a living.”

  “I’m all for it,” Callie answers, with her eyelids squeezed shut.

  “You’ll be pleased to know we’re done,” I tell her, wiping away the excess ink and blood. But as far as I’m concerned, we’re far from done.

  This is just the beginning.

  Ten: Callie

  It’s Thursday, my parents have plans, with friends, and Elena is also out. I have the house to myself, so it’s movie night with Nick, Su, and her boyfriend, Zack. We’re watching some crappy zombie flick from the seventies. I hate shit like this, but I was the only one not interested, so I’m tolerating it. At least, I’m trying to tolerate it.