Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“I’ve got a thing for you that’s like a paper towel apron with no ass,” Mason said. “We’ve got a changing area.”
“I’ll just do it here,” I said, taking off my shirt. “They’ve both seen the goods, and I’m sure you’ve seen it all.”
He laughed as he prepared his instruments. “Yeah, I’ve seen some shit I wish I could unsee.”
Elle and Dom sat awkwardly side by side in chairs along the wall as Mason prepped me for the tattoo.
“You got any ink?” Dom asked Elle.
She pulled up her sleeve and showed him her inner arm. “I have my mom’s handwriting here. She wrote ‘I believe in you always’ on my college graduation card and I had it tattooed after she died.”
“That’s dope,” Dom said. “What about the flower?”
“A daisy because she loved daisies. She wanted to name me Daisy, but my dad convinced her they should name me after my grandma.”
“You don’t look like a Daisy,” I said as I laid down on Mason’s table.
“What about you?” Elle asked Dom. “Any ink?”
He gave her a sheepish look and turned in his chair, pulling up the back of his shirt to show her the clown tattoo on the back of one shoulder. It was supposed to be an evil-looking clown, but it looked like it belonged at a child’s birthday party, other than the mangled nose.
“It’s fucked,” he said. “I was drunk and I went into this tattoo shop in New York, pointed at a picture on the wall, and hated myself the next morning.”
Elle furrowed her brow. “Did the picture on the wall look like that?”
Dom pulled his shirt back down and turned around. “It did not. Turned out this guy was the son of the real tattoo artist, and he was a new apprentice.”
“I could fix that,” Mason said. “I could either clean it up and make it look better or cover it up.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” Dom said.
Elle leaned to peek at the design Mason was working off of, her jaw dropping.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Don’t tell him,” Dom warned.
Elle looked at Dom, smiled and said, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Dom nodded, pleased with her answer.
If I had to get my teammates idea of a joke tattooed on my ass, at least it was a chance for Dom and my other teammates to see Elle in a different light. I didn’t just want her to be in part of my life. I wanted her in all of it.
“You bastards,” I said a few hours later, as I looked over my shoulder at the reflection of my ass in the mirror at the tattoo shop.
“I think it suits you,” Colby said.
I had a four-by-two-inch, glowing pink neon sign on my ass cheek that said slut. I’d overestimated my teammates, thinking they’d take it easy on me when deciding what to have permanently inked on my skin.
No such luck.
I met Elle’s eyes in the mirror. She was trying not to smirk but failing.
“You think this is funny?” I asked, grinning.
“It’s not not funny.”
“She’s the one who’ll have to look at it the most,” Beau said. “So if she likes it, then I think it’s a win. Shall we head to our next appointment?”
Fuck. Waxing. I’d decided to get all this shit over with at once on a day off. Now my ass was sore and there was more pain ahead.
“My phone is fully charged and ready to live-stream the fun,” Dom said.
“Livestream?” Elle gaped at me.
“Face only,” I reminded Dom.
“Face only.” He winked at Elle. “It’s gonna be awesome.”
“Motherfucker!” I yelled an hour later as the technician pulled off the first wide strip of cloth.
“That was a good one,” she said, holding up the cloth, which was covered in wax and a thick coat of hair from my outer thigh.
“Oh shit!” Dom howled with laughter as I flipped him off.
My skin burned and tingled at the same time. It was a foreign feeling. One I never wanted to experience again. I dropped my head back onto the table and groaned.
“You okay?” the technician asked.
“Fantastic. Let’s just get it done as quickly as possible.”
I’d asked her to start with my legs instead of my more delicate areas, so I could get a feel for how much it hurt. And after just one strip, I had a newfound respect for women who did this all the time.
Elle stood in the corner, and I looked over at her. “You said it wasn’t that bad.”
“I guess I’m just used to it,” she said, shrugging.
The technician applied another layer of hot wax to my skin and I cringed as she pressed another cloth strip over it.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yeah, just do it.”
I held my breath this time, exhaling once it was all the way off. The only bright side of this was that it was costing Dom five hundred bucks. He’d been giddy when he handed the cash over, though.