Holding out my hand, I said, “I’m Grant, by the way. Your imaginary tattoo artist for the day.”
She laughed again, putting her tiny hand in mine, and marking the monumental first second that I touched the girl of my dreams. I held her hand as if it were made of glass.
“Leah,” she said softly.
“Well, Leah, if you were to get a flower tattoo, where would you place it?” I had to keep her talking, hoping that she’d spend just a bit more time with me.
She looked back up at the photos, thinking. Part of me realized that if she did decide to get a piece, my hands would be on her skin for at least an hour. It was hard to hide the shudder that ran through me at that thought.
CHAPTER TWO
* Leah *
My friend Alison h
ad been demanding that I do something big to kick the new year off with a fresh start. It drove her nuts that I was so quiet and reserved, and she thought that I was too timid about life in general. Somehow she had her mind set on me getting a tattoo as a symbol of doing something scary and living through it.
My life was a bit plain for a reason. I didn’t like being rattled with nerves, so I was careful to stick to things that I knew. But she was right that it was time for a few tiny changes. I couldn’t spend my entire life saving every penny and not knowing why, and studying art but rarely going out to galleries or events. I knew I was a bit uptight, but it was never too late to change.
I came into the shop the day before her appointment just to see if it really made me nervous. The buzzing hum of the tattoo needles was a bit weird, but not as frightening as I’d expected.
Most of the artists were covered in tattoos, which made sense. The burly man towering over me had fascinating artwork winding down his thick arms.
My hand had felt so tiny in his, and the warm, rough touch of his skin had sent a little twinkle of heat straight through me. I’d never been this attracted to a man before. But he was so big, with such a booming deep voice, that he also made me nervous.
His dark eyes were unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Somehow there was so much emotion in each glance. It was as if he were trying to pick up clues and solve the mystery of why I was standing near him. For the first time in my life, I enjoyed being stared at.
If I did decide to get a tattoo, and he was the one to do it, that meant I would be under his control, his hands on me for the entire time. It was difficult not to blush simply from the thought of that.
He was looking at me expectantly, and I had to think of something to say. “I’d have to put it somewhere I could hide it for work,” I said quickly.
“Where do you work?”
“I’m an accountant down at Bay and Bloor. You know, the land of corporate suits. So I have to look the part.”
He nodded, and I felt like he honestly wasn’t judging me at all. I knew that some of my artsy friends thought I was uptight and corporate because of where I worked.
“No problem. That just means nothing on your arms or legs. Or at least, the lower leg.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume you don’t wear micro-mini skirts at the office.”
I giggled, and realized with shock that I was actually able to chat with this strange man. It was fascinating. There was something about him that made me feel a pull toward him. It wasn’t just that he was sexy as hell. There was something in the way he looked at me that drove me wild.
“No,” I said. I spoke a bit louder so that he could hear me clearly over the buzzing in the back of the shop. “My office is full of nice people, but they’re all pretty straitlaced.”
“We all have our little secrets,” Grant said with a wide smile. “If you had a flower on your hip, or your side, they would never see it.”
Then he gave me a strange look as if he were analyzing me. “Some girls get them at the top of their thigh, or on their asses, but that just doesn’t seem right for you. If I were to make a suggestion,” he said, holding out his hand, “Right here might be a nice spot on your body.”
His fingertips were circling the area between my hip bone and where my waist dipped in slightly. The lower side part of my stomach. For a few seconds, I completely forgot how to breathe. He drew one last circle around the area with his index finger, then pulled away. “It’s a spot that is sensual, but not overtly sexy. Do you know what I mean?”
I hoped that I wasn’t blushing. His light touch had sent waves of desire deeper than I’d ever felt before.
“I’m not trying to say that you aren’t sexy,” he said quickly, “Just that you seem like more of a classy girl.”
“How large do people usually get these flowers?” I asked quickly, obviously changing the subject. He seemed relieved that I wasn’t offended.
“It depends where on the body, of course,” he said. “But if you were getting it on your side there…” He reached out to make a circle with his fingers the size of a bagel, holding the shape onto me as he visualized. “I’d say about that big. Some people get tiny little things for their first tattoo, and that’s fine. But if you’re planning on only getting a few special pieces, you want to have a bit of impact.”
I nodded. “I could see that.”