Holiday Sparks

He grinned down at her. “Flat on your back. Just so I can line it up.”

She straightened in the seat and slowed her breathing.

He tapped and shifted the paper, taking a small spray bottle off his hip. “It will be—”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Cold?”

“Cold.” His voice gentled. “You’re doing just fine.”

“You didn’t even start with the ink yet.”

He pressed down on the paper then slowly peeled it back. “Want to see how it looks first?”

She shook her head. “I want to see it when it’s done.”

“Your skin will be really angry and red.”

“I want to see the finished product.”

“Afraid you’ll change your mind?”

She shook her head. “No, I won’t.”

He gave her a soft smile then rolled away to ready the rest of the tools of his trade. When he came back to her the gun had a small tube at the top. “The outlining really is the worst part. But I’ve been doing this for a long time, so I’ll move as quickly as I can and then we’ll see if you need a break, okay?”

She swallowed and nodded.

“Turn on your side. Good. Reach up and there you go.” Her fingers wrapped around a grip that reminded her of a bicycle handle.

“Did you do this?”

“Sometimes all you need is something to hold on to. Makes it easier to stay still.”

She nodded.

“I’ll take care of you, Darcy.”

She closed her eyes. “I know, Ben.” The high-pitched buzz made her jump.

“Easy.”

Easy for him to say. She held her breath, waiting for him to begin.

“Breathe.”

She let out a slow breath and the tip of the needle struck. Her entire body stiffened and the quick shock of pain ratcheted up to a pressure-filled burn into her skin. She slowly relaxed as he fell into a rhythm of pressure, heat and the scrape of the needle then the swipe of cool cloth.

“You okay?”

She could hear the change in his voice. It almost sounded like his voice when he’d taken her in his living room that second time. Intense, gruff and focused. She shivered lightly and felt the hot flush of blood under her cheeks as her nipples tightened.

If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.

He stretched her skin lightly and she could feel each curve of the O. She was expecting him to write on her skin, but the transfer seemed to become a form to him. The bottoms of the letters hurt the most, but that wasn’t surprising since it was the curve of her rib cage. Just skin over bone.

Finally the pressure and burn were gone and the cool paper towel soothed her skin again and again. “I’m done with the outline. Just a little bit of shading and you’ll be done.”

The serious lines of his face melted into the friendly crinkles at the corners of his eyes. She could see why he had so many pictures of happy customers in the waiting room. Ben was easy with people and his calm nature put people at ease.