Free Sinful Southern Ink by S.J. Drum Page B

words I love you . She scooted to the middle of the bench seat, straddling the gearshift and tucking herself into his side like a randy teenager. Life was good.
    * * * * *
     
    That evening, Jed opened the shop by himself. He often opened Hart’s Ink alone on the days Abigail didn’t have any appointments scheduled until later and she in turn opened by herself when he had no early appointments.
    Earlier in the day, he’d taken Abigail back to her apartment and they’d made love—twice—before she shooed him out the door so he wouldn’t be late meeting his first client.
    He held a pair of forceps with his left hand as he inserted a long needle through his client’s trembling lower lip. The girl was all of eighteen—exactly eighteen, being that today was her birthday. Three other young women stood crowded into the small space, apparently for moral support, though their gasps and squeals were more a hindrance than help.
    With a steady hand, he lined up one open end of a stainless steel ring with the blunt end of the needle and guided it through the hole, pushing the needle out as the jewelry took its place. He snapped the ball into place and used a piece of sterile gauze to wipe away a drop of blood that’d pooled in the dip of the young woman’s chin. “All done.” He offered her his most reassuring smile. “You were very brave.”
    The girl smiled, then winced as it stretched her virgin piercing. The other girls in the room giggled and stared at him as if they’d just met a real-life hero. Unlike some of the professionals in the body art business, he didn’t get off on the fake hero worship or clumsy advances of young women wanting a walk on the wild side.
    Jed sat back, pulled his gloves off and tossed them into the trash, then stood and walked out of the room to the reception area. He stopped behind the cash register and waited until the girls figured out he wasn’t going to come back to the room and offer any extra services. After a few minutes of whispers and giggles, they filed out to stand across the counter from him, only one of them still bearing a hopeful and unpracticed seductive expression.
    “Twenty-five dollars, please.”
    The hopeful girl, wearing too-low jeans with thong straps stretching over her skinny hips above the waistline, stepped forward and put a hand out to stop her friend from opening her purse. She leaned forward, plumping her small breasts onto the glass countertop. “Maybe we can work something out,” she purred, looking up at him from beneath heavily mascaraed lashes.
    He couldn’t help it, Jed burst out laughing.
    She backed up, a sneer twisting her glossy lips. The client slapped her payment down on the counter where her friend’s breasts had previously been pressed and ushered the group out the door.
    Twenty-five dollars in cash. Jed hadn’t even earned a tip for putting up with the annoyance. He carried the cash back to Abigail’s office and slipped it inside the deposit envelope. They didn’t actually keep any money in the register up front because it was left unattended so often. Most people paid with debit cards anyway, so it wasn’t an inconvenience to go to her office for change when needed.
    The bell over the door jingled as he slid the zipper on the green vinyl bag closed. He checked the time and found his next client was early by about twenty minutes.
    Better early than late. Might as well get it over with.
    As he turned the corner, he caught the tail end of someone walking across the reception area at the end of the hall. All he saw was one long, lean, tanned leg capped off with a yellow stiletto-heeled sandal. If the ridiculous shoes hadn’t given her away, the clanking of her spangle bracelets would have.
    Casually, he strolled into the reception area, making a point to not acknowledge Sherrie. He pulled the client schedule from beneath the register, slapped it on the countertop and proceeded to flip through it until he came to today. A muffled sound came