If Only (6 page)

“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.

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.”

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.

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.