Bad Bad Girl

“Me too,” he finally said. “I would have a pretty short career in this field if my work was shitty.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“Over twenty years,” he said in a distracted tone, working his way around her shoulder blade. “I’m surprised you didn’t do your research and know that answer.”

“I trusted a friend of mine. Her husband is a friend of yours. Caine?”

Sawyer smiled at the memory of his buddy Caine. He instantly liked the redhead even more. Anyone who was friends with Caine had to be a good person. “Yeah, Caine and I go way back. He’s a good man.”

“Well hopefully I’m in good hands.” She gave a sharp intake of breath as the needle hit a sensitive spot.

“Don’t worry,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m good at what I do.”

“You’d better be,” Rebecca said in a rare moment of playfulness. “Your job is to scar people for life. You’d better be good at it.”

“So how do you know Caine?” Sawyer had found that having idle chat with his clients helped ease the process. This was going to be a long session, and he needed her to relax and think about things other than being ‘scarred’.

“He’s married to one of my best friends from high school. I’ve actually known him since then.”

“Neely, right? I remembered hearing about that. I haven’t met her yet, though.”

Rebecca nodded, still keeping her torso perfectly stationary. “Yes. They are a really cute couple. It’s nice to see that two people can actually be in love.”

He wiped at the ink with the folded paper towel in his hand. He was making great progress. “You say that as if you doubted.”

“I did.”

So, Miss Red has been burned? “I hear ya. I find it shocking as well.”

“So you don’t believe in love either, huh?”

He paused and dabbed his needle in more ink. Her pale skin was soaking the ink right up. “I’d like to. I guess love is like a troll or unicorn. We hear of it, but I haven’t exactly seen it. You know?”

Rebecca remained silent, the only noise being the hum of the tattoo machine. He wasn’t sure if she was clenching her teeth against the pain or simply contemplating what he had said.

“But if any two people have a shot, it would be Caine and Neely. Their lifestyle sure helps,” he added.

She strained her neck to look over her shoulder at him. Her eyes glared in disbelief. “You know about that?”

“Stay still and turn around,” he chastised. When she complied, he asked, “Know about what?”

“Their lifestyle,” she answered, her body tensing up.

“Sure. Caine has believed in Domestic Discipline for a long time. For as long as I’ve known him. I’m assuming he and Neely live it, am I wrong?” Sawyer swiped away at the ink and blood and continued with the tattoo.

“No, you are right. They do.” Her voice sounded strained. She took a deep breath, moving too much for his liking. “What do you feel about that?”

“About what?”

“About the fact that Caine… you know… Well, you know what he does to Neely.”

“Whatever works for two people.” He dipped the metal tip of his machine into more ink. “Why do I get the feeling you don’t like it?”

“Because I don’t,” Rebecca answered. “I can’t believe that a grown woman would let a man do that. Not to mention my friend Neely, Coley, and even Kendall. It’s like some weird, twisted club.”

Sawyer smirked, clearly seeing her body tense as they discussed the topic. “So, I take it you aren’t part of the ‘twisted club’?”

She snorted. “No, not even a little.”

He paused tattooing and patted her back gently. “Take a deep breath and relax. Your body is too tense.”

She did as he asked, then he leaned forward and continued working on the outline.

“So, do you not like Caine?” he asked, concentrating on a thick, delicate swirl of a flower petal.

“No, I like Caine. I like him a lot.” She paused for a moment. “I think he is a great guy. I just don’t like the fact that he…”

“Spanks Neely,” Sawyer finished for her.

“Yes. See? I can’t even say the word. It’s embarrassing.”

Sawyer could see how the pale skin of her cheeks began to turn a soft shade of pink. It highlighted her little freckles.

“Why? It’s not like Caine is spanking you.”

Her face darkened in hue. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we are having this conversation,” she muttered.

Sawyer wiped at the ink and blood and sat back for a moment to study his progress. It was going much quicker than he’d anticipated. “The tattoo is looking good so far. Are you doing all right? You need to tell me when you need a break.”

“I’m fine. Talking is helping to pass the time.”

He dipped his gun in the ink and continued. They both sat in silence for a while, with the only sound being the hum of the machine and the music playing in the background.