Free Tattooed Moon by Tiana Laveen Page B

looked both ways as if waiting for crossing traffic. Looking down, she noticed he’d laid a clean, white towel along the table. She laid her chin on the headrest and looked straight ahead, at a calendar with red numerals. She wished she had a fast forward button, especially once she heard a chair moving about, the wheels rolling around as if in a doctor’s office.
    Oh shit…
    She sighed as she heard him wearing gloves, snapping them in place.
    “Milan, I’m going to explain everything that I’m doing, step by step. You have nothing to worry about.” He gave her a reassuring tap on her upper back and then, before she knew it, he poured the cool liquid on her arm and made gentle strokes, cleaning the area.
    “I’m just cleaning the tattoo site, getting it ready. After that, I’m going to shave the area. Once I do that, I will clean it yet again. At that point, I’m going to make some lines on your skin, points of reference, in order to get the outline of the tattoo complete. Any questions, sweetheart?”
    Did he call me sweetheart? He did. Just let it go…
    She shook her head.
    “Okay, good.” He scooted up a bit closer to her and, after applying shaving cream to her shoulder, he took out a small, wet razor. Suddenly, he rose and moved away, as if he’d forgotten something on a stove and rushed to switch it off. The music came to an abrupt halt.
    “Is something wrong?” she called out.
    “No, not at all.”
    But when the music changed, she gripped the table and sucked her breath. He’d put on Delibes’ ‘Flower Duet’—the one song that always turned her into an emotional mess.
    It’s still… so… beautiful… takes me right back to resting on her lap…
    “Is that okay, Milan?”
    “Mmmm hmmm…” She was speechless. There were literally billions of opera songs in this big, wide world, yet he’d somehow chosen one that she and her mother adored. To make the whole situation even more heart stopping, he lessened their distance by drawing near, his crotch close to her face. Like a gentle wind, he placed a yellow rose behind her ear—eliciting a small scream and a smile—then returned to his seat.
    “Okay, let’s continue.” He just went on, as if what he’d just done was customary. A few minutes later, he was outlining her skin.
    “This is called a thermal-fax. This method is far faster than the old school methods we used for tracing, which, many times, were by hand.”
    “Oh boy, that kinda tickles…” She smiled, looking next to the calendar at a silver-framed mirror, which allowed her to see him more clearly.
    “Does it?” He offered a crooked smile, his eyes glued to his work. Boy did he have a beautiful smile… She looked at him a bit closer, taking liberties as the mirror allowed her to steal secret glances.
    He is so sexy… What am I saying?
    “I’m just using a little deodorant as an adhesive. It’ll be over in just a moment…violà! It’s on.”
    “Mmmm, that wasn’t so bad.” She laughed lightly.
    “Yes, if only it were that simple.” He smiled indulgently. “Milan, now, I’m going to place these ink caps, which is the ink coloring, into this machine here. My tools have been sterilized. I’ve already got the distilled water here for cleaning the needles during your procedure. In your case, I will only be using black, white, a little green, yellow, orange and a little brown. The colors are for details in the flower, it will allow me to draw contrast, causing the flower to appear realistic in appearance.”
    “Okay.”
    “I’ve put a little ointment over the image transfer, and that will help the design stay on there, not be smudged as my hands move around. I’m left handed, so I tend to tilt my arm in odd ways sometimes, which could force me to stop and redraw, and that could make things harder for me. This application helps prevent that from being a problem. … Now, I know you’re nervous, so, I want you to take a deep breath.”
    He looked in the mirror at