Tattooed Moon (16 page)

Milan burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. She’d asked the man about the worse tattoo he’d ever given, and this was his damn story.

“I had the nerve to try and draw scales on it…so now, it just looked like a dried out piece of shit, with a tail.”

“Stop it! Stop it!” She cracked up even louder.

“I then drew a smiley face on it, so now, it was a happy piece of dried out shit, with a tail.”

“Oh Jesus take the wheel!” She leaned over to the side, panting. “Why in the world did you do that?!”

He shrugged, a goofy smile on his face. “I was trying to correct it! Of course, all I did was make it worse.”

“Okay, okay, tell me about the worse customer you had.”

“Ohhhh man. Nah, I can’t do that. You might hold it against me.” They reached a red light.

“No I won’t.”

“Alright.” He swallowed. “This actually just happened not too long ago. This guy walked in, and I accept all people, okay?” He gave her a quick glance, as if trying to convince her of his sincerity. “I don’t care what someone’s body type is, how old they are, none of that, as long as they are legal and in decent enough health to receive a tattoo. Well, this guy walked in and he had a bunch of tattoos. They didn’t look like much so I assumed they were homemade or from some artist that didn’t know what they were doing. So, he walked in, and no one jumped up to help him. It was like…instinct. We all just kinda knew it was going to be a mess. It was strange, like a universal premonition. As the owner, I had to eventually go up.”

“Why didn’t you just make one of your other guys go up?”

“Because they had customers already and Angela was on the phone with a potential client. Still though, if a cute woman walks in, Cedrick will stop whatever the hell he is doing to try and claim her and schedule her in, and Alex will always jump in to help, too, like, he’ll say, ‘Hold on, someone will be with you in a sec,’ and tell his customer to hold tight. But this time, they didn’t budge. So anyway, the guy was like four hundred and fifty pounds, easily. It is harder to work with people that are extremely skinny, or very obese, because the skin, the canvas basically, doesn’t act the same. The more layers of tissue, the harder it is at times, or if there are too many bones jetting about…but I’ve done it, no biggie. Yet this guy was just giving me a vibe, you know.”

“Oh boy…”

“Yeah, I’ve got good intuition on shit like this.” The light turned green and he began driving again. “So, I introduced myself to the guy, and asked him what he was looking for.” Julian ran his hand leisurely over the steering wheel, and took a deep breath. “He wanted something on his asshole.”

“What? You mean his butt cheek, right?”

“
No
, he wanted a tattoo drawn around his damn
asshole,
Milan!”

That did it. Milan slumped in her seat and covered her face with her hands as her body rocked with laughter.

“He wanted me to tattoo, ‘T.P.B.H’, which means, The Portal to the Black Hole.’ I refused.” Julian threw up his hand; his face twisted in a grimace, as if he were re-living the traumatic ordeal, making Milan laugh all the harder. “I knew for a fact I wasn’t doin’ that shit, and he couldn’t pay me enough. I told him we don’t do those kinds of tattoos and he made a big stink about it.”

“A big stink?! Couldn’t you… couldn’t you have chosen different words just now?!” She gasped, trying to regain her composure, but miserably failed.

“All this dragon shit and asshole talk is so mature, isn’t it?” He smirked as they drew closer to her home. “Oh man, it was crazy. I could spend hours telling you about some of the stuff I’ve seen in that shop. Georgia has all kinds, I tell ya.”

“Who are you telling!”

“Speaking of assholes, how are things going at work?”

She looked out the window, noting they were only a block away from her house. She resented that. She didn’t want the date to end.

“Well, I put what you said into action, and I haven’t seen much improvement unfortunately, but we’ll see.”

“Keep at it, and if he doesn’t change, go to plan B. Life is too short to deal with that sort of shit. Besides, you’ve been through a lot lately; you need to be trying to get level, get back to your base.”

She gave the man a curious eye as he turned into her driveway. Shutting off the engine, he got out of his car, opened her door, and took her gently by the elbow, escorting her out the vehicle. He walked her up to her door, and for a moment, just a moment, she thought about inviting the bastard in. Funny thing though, he made no attempts to enter. No
‘may I use your bathroom’
excuses; no
‘can I step inside and just sit for a moment’
line. None of the stuff she was accustomed to hearing. When he picked her up, he’d done the same—stood right outside the door, like a perfect tin soldier gentleman.

Taking the initiative, she leaned in, wrapped her arms around his neck and touched his lips with her own, eliciting a throaty moan. He took over then, parting her lips with his tongue, and easing his way inside. He held her tight around her waist, bringing her a bit closer into his body. Cinnamon wrapped root beer flooded her taste buds, and the sweet, odd mixture tasted beautiful going down. She clamped onto him tighter, causing his soft, long hair to brush against her cheek. After slowly rotating his tongue inside of her mouth over and over like a slow hip grind, the ride eventually came to a complete stop. He stepped back and ran his hand over his lips, his keys dangling in his hand.

“I’ll see you soon… Give me a call tonight if you want.” He kept walking backwards, leaving her standing there with an impish grin across her face.

“I’ll do that. Thanks!” she called out. “The food was good; thank you for the experience.”

“Thank you for coming and being open minded enough to try…” He winked and blew her a kiss, then drove away.

I want to fuck that man…

She slammed and locked her door.

‡

J
ulian couldn’t fight
his surprise once Milan told him she had to reschedule for later that evening and to nix the movie, because first she needed to go grocery shopping. According to the gorgeous accountant he’d been fantasizing about non-stop that day, she realized she barely had anything in her cupboard, like old mother Hubbard, and was afraid of the predicted snow fall to come. Just like most of Athens and its surrounding areas, the mere threat of a deathly, white flake daring to hit their red soil covered ground caused everyone to go into an uproar, as if the second coming of Christ was woven into the eye of the pending storm. He laughed it off and let her know that he would take her to the grocery store later that evening. Of course, this seemingly struck her as odd, and she said so, but she agreed to his new terms, stating she’d be arriving soon.

Even still, he could tell from her tone of voice, something was amiss. He asked her if she still wanted to go to the movies, and she said no. He didn’t push it, but something wasn’t right. Regardless, he had things to do before she arrived. Milan had never been to his home, and due to this, he made extra sure everything was just so. One thing he was certain of as he went over his small, glass end table with a hearty helping of glass cleaning spray he’d concocted out of vinegar—she’d never forget this evening. Anyone that stepped into his house was in for a treat and had a mélange of things to focus on; odds and ends to sort out in their minds. He had items organized, somewhat tidy, but he surrounded himself with articles he felt were important, but many others would find, well, weird. Extraordinary tribal masks here, bottles filled with various ointments there, collected spiritually charged gems, bowls of pretty, round things, sparkling healing crystals, stacks of fresh, unopened tarot cards and some over a century old, enough incense to smoke out the entire state of Georgia, and a golden bowl filled with the cinnamon sticks that he loved to chew like gum.

The plans had changed, but he was okay with that. He was able to roll with the crashing tide. He ran a hand over his semi-exposed chest. A button-down blue denim shirt clung to his form. He loved that shirt; it was the perfect blue, paired well with his eyes.

I know she’ll be hungry…

He put on a pot of tea and checked his vegetarian cheese rolls in the oven. He then walked into his first floor hall bathroom and made sure there was enough toilet paper, wet wipes, all the things he surmised a woman would want. After a while, he sank onto his olive green couch, picked up his ‘Inked magazine’ and crossed his ankles, enjoying the break. He lounged about, the few candles glimmering from the fireplace hearth aiding in relaxation. Not a good ten minutes had passed before he heard the bell. He tossed the magazine on the black ash wood cocktail table, stood to his bare feet and made his way to the front door of his duplex home. There she stood, her hair parted down the middle, a light tan leather jacket on, some form-fitting dark blue jeans and evergreen boots with white fur trim. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Milan stayed on the edge of the current fashion trend. It didn’t bother him though; hell, it suited her personality, and he was just fine with that.

“Hi, gorgeous.” He smiled at her. “Come on in.”

“Hi, thanks…”

She handed him a large golden box of imported teas wrapped with a big silvery-blue bow, then shoved her hands in her pockets.

“How nice, thank you, Milan.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stepped inside and immediately began to set her sights to varying areas of the house. He closed the door and locked it, placed the box of tea down then stood there quietly, allowing her a moment. He didn’t miss the way the material of her pants hugged her perfect, round ass.

An ass like whoa…

He stroked his goatee as he sized her up, drifting in sexual thoughts, embracing them fully.

“Wow! What a house,” she said, looking around. “Those are crystals, right?” She pointed across the room at a lit display of therapeutic, iridescent rocks and gems. Sade sung in the background, ‘Hold On.’

“Yup. Go on over, don’t be shy. Take a look around… Hand me your coat first though.” She handed him her jacket, and he took notice of her emerald green V-neck sweater. It looked wonderful against her complexion. It only took him moments to hang the coat up. Milan moved around the display, carefully surveying his wares. Soon, he was right beside her.

“I collect them.”

“Some of these are beautiful. What’s that one?” She pointed into the glass cover at a large light pink gem shaped like a dull sword.

“That’s rose quartz. Is that the one you gravitate towards? Does it call to you?”

She chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about all of that, but yeah, it’s pretty.”

“If it is the first one you noticed, or the one you keep coming back to, then it is the one you need.” He gently scooted her out of the way by clasping his hands around her hips. They met eyes for a moment, the sexual tension mounting like a jockey on a horse. He opened and lifted the case, removed the large gem, and placed it in her hands. “Feel it, rub your hands along it.”

She looked at it, turning it all different directions. “This thing is huge. You must’ve paid a lot for it.”