015

SHAYLE

Kieran led me over to a small, leather couch in the corner far from Jim and his client, gesturing for me to sit.

It felt comfortable.

I sunk into it. The soft cushions were a welcome contrast to the stiff, angry posture I’d held all day.

“So, are you ready to get ink on you?”

My heart fluttered. I looked down at the tattoo magazines scattered on the small table between us, a sudden, nervous excitement bubbling up inside me.

“Yeah,” I said, “I’m ready. I think.”

He laughed, a rich, low sound that vibrated through the air.

“You think? It’s okay if you’re not. It’s a big decision.”

“No, I’m ready,” I insisted, feeling a rush of confidence.

“I just… I have no idea what I want yet.”

He moved from the stool he was sitting on, picked up one of the magazines and flipped through it.

“Okay, let’s see. What are you looking for? Something big and bold, or something small and subtle?”

He paused, a thoughtful look on his face.

“You know,” he began, “we can design something from scratch. Something that means something to you.”

My mind went blank. What meant something to me?

A week ago, I would've said Carlos, my family or even my job.

Now? I just wanted to live. I wanted a chance to be someone else, to be someone new and not have a limit of four months left.

“I want a change,” I blurted out. “That’s it. Just… something to mark a new beginning.”

Or an end.

Kieran stopped flipping through the magazine and looked at me. “No wonder you changed your looks.”

My cheeks flushed and I gave him a shy smile. He was still looking at me, and I suddenly felt so seen.

He wasn't just looking at my face or my clothes; he was looking deep into me.

“Okay,” he said, his voice dropping to a serious tone.

“A change. So, it shouldn't be too obvious, and it shouldn’t be too small either. It should be something that symbolizes a quiet but significant transformation.”

I nodded, my eyes tracing the lines of his Adam’s apple as he spoke. This was it. This was the moment. I tried to remember everything I'd learned from those YouTube videos.

My gaze moved from his eyes to the strong, sculpted lines of his jaw, to his lips, and back to his eyes.

It was partly intentional, a small performance meant to show him what I wanted.

He didn't seem to notice my little show though, but his gaze often settled on me.

We finally settled on a design; a beautiful, delicate tattoo of a phoenix feather that curled and twisted into the shape of a blooming rose.

It was perfect.

The phoenix, a symbol of rebirth and transformation, and the rose, a symbol of beauty and growth.

"It’s beautiful," I breathed, my eyes wide. "I love it."

He smiled. "Good. Now, where do you want it? The location is important. It can make or break the design."

I had no idea. "Where's the least painful area?" I asked sheepishly.

He chuckled, a sound that made my chest warm.

"Well, that'll be either your thigh, arm, belly, or butt cheek."

My cheeks burned at the last option. A tattoo on my butt cheek? The idea of his hands on me there, his fingers tracing lines on my skin… I had to look away.

"My thigh is good," I finally mumbled, my voice barely a whisper.

I didn’t want to seem desperate, so I chose the more reasonable option.

Just then, Jim came out from the back, grabbing his bag and getting ready to leave. He threw us a look, a sly smirk on his lips as he saw me sitting so close to Kieran.

He knew. I swear, he could see right through me, could see exactly how much I wanted to fuck Kieran.

I hoped I was wrong though. I hoped he couldn’t see the desire practically radiating from me.

As Jim left, the small bell over the door chimed, and the shop felt a hundred times more intimate. It was just me and Kieran.

I laid down on the small bed, and he came over, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"Relax," he said softly.

The moment his gloved hand touched my thigh, a strange, powerful feeling shot through me.

It was so unfamiliar, yet so strong and soothing that I almost made a sound.

He didn’t seem to notice though. His hands were on my thigh now, rubbing something on the area where the tattoo would go, prepping the skin.

He was so close. So close I could smell the faint scent of ink and his own unique scent; something like sandalwood and masculinity.

I couldn't even breathe properly. The more he touched me, the more that feeling between my legs became intense, and my heart rate increased drastically.

Was this how sex felt? Or was it better? My mind was a whirlwind of questions and images.

I wanted his hands to go higher, to touch me where the ache was deepest.

He finally started drawing, his movements slow and steady.

"Just breathe," he murmured, his eyes focused on the work.

"I’ll try not to make it too painful."

The needle pricked my skin, and I braced myself for the sting, but it was nothing. Just a small, dull pressure.

The pain was minimal. I didn’t feel that much pain to be honest. It just went smoothly. But the more time went by, the more I thought I’d run insane. I wanted his hands on me, damn it. I wanted more.

I bit my lip, trying to control the powerful urges coursing through me.

Think straight, Shayle. You're not supposed to be desperate! I closed my eyes and started counting to 1000 in my head. I hadn't even gotten to 500 when I heard him chuckle.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now," he said gently. "It’s done."

I slowly did, my eyes still a little foggy from the mix of desire and nervousness.

I looked at my thigh, and my breath caught in my throat.

The tattoo was beautiful. A delicate phoenix feather with a rose. It was even more stunning than the picture he showed me. I loved it.

He moved closer to me and helped me sit up. He touched my thigh again, a finger tracing the swollen area, and my heart spiked.

"It’ll be a little sore for a while," he assured me, his voice a low rumble. "Just keep it clean."

As he was about to take his hand off my thigh, I held it down, placing my hand on his. This was it. This was the time.

My heart was practically beating out of my chest, a frantic drum against my ribs. Kieran looked at me, a question in his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice soft. "Don't you like it?"

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "It’s not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

The words died in my throat. Everything I'd learned from those videos, from those ridiculous tutorials, had vanished from my mind. The plan was gone. I was running on pure instinct, on pure desire, and it was too late to back down.

Without a second thought, I leaned in and locked my lips with his.

There was a pause. Our lips just stayed there, touching.

He didn't move, and neither did I, probably from shock. I could feel his breath on my face, warm and a little unsteady. My own heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

But then, I gathered my courage and moved my lips, parting them just slightly.

I sucked on his bottom lip, my nerves screaming at me to stop but my body begging me to continue.

He still didn’t kiss me back, didn't push me away, just allowed me entrance.

I retreated slowly, my eyes wide, as I felt the waves of adrenaline coursing through me.

His gaze dropped from my eyes to my lips and back again. He blinked, a small smile playing on his mouth.

"What was that about?"

I raised a hand to his lips, my fingers trembling slightly as I traced them. I honestly didn't know what I was doing, but I hoped it didn't come off as too strange.

I smiled, a shaky, nervous smile, and said, "Your lips looked so soft. I really wanted to taste them."

When he didn’t give a response, I withdrew my finger, the embarrassment of my own boldness washing over me.

"If you didn't like the kiss, I can just apologize and leave here immediately," I stammered, already preparing to run out of the shop and never come back.

He laughed, a small, genuine laugh that made my heart immediately relax.

"No, that's not it at all."

My shoulders slumped in relief. At least he wasn’t pissed. I cleared my throat, feeling a little braver now.

"Why did you laugh then?"

"Because I can literally see how scared you were just now," he said, the amusement clear in his eyes.

My cheeks flushed, hot with embarrassment. I had started this, now I had to finish. I wasn't going to quit now.

I raised my hands, placing them on his chest, and felt the steady thump of his heart beneath my palms.

He was so close now. I slowly came closer. I raised my hands to his face, my thumbs stroking his cheeks.

"Can I kiss you again?" I whispered.

In response, after what felt like an eternity, he drew me closer and kissed me.

This time, he was in control. His lips were soft but firm. Its warmth made my knees weak.

I almost couldn’t believe it was finally happening. His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, holding me in place as his mouth moved over mine.

My hands left his face and went to his chest and then his back, pulling him closer, trying to make it clear that I wanted more from him.

I wanted his hands on me. I wanted him to touch me.

When he still didn't move his hands, I decided to go further.

Slowly, my hands reached for his belt.

He immediately stopped, withdrawing from the kiss with a gasp. I looked at him, confused, as we both tried to catch our breaths.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice a little strained.

Shit. Was that a wrong move?

“Huh…Oh, I um..”

All the courage I had initially had drained away, and I struggled with a response.

He sighed and gently made me sit back down, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

My shoulders slumped. No, please Kieran, don't do this.

He rubbed his forehead, the lines on his face etched with something I couldn’t decipher.

"I guess I might have misinterpreted that first kiss," he said, his voice low. "It seems you want something more, Shayle."

My eyes were glued to the floor, and I immediately felt like crying. Was he about to reject me? Damn it, I shouldn't have rushed it. I’ve spoiled it all for myself.

When I didn't answer, Kieran bent down, trying to meet my eyes, but I still wouldn't look at him.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed," he said softly.

"I didn't stop because I don't want you. Any man would want you."

I didn’t believe a word he was saying, and I still refused to meet his eyes.

He sighed and continued, "I’m going to tell you a secret, okay? One you shouldn't let out either."

That got my attention. My eyes finally met his, and he smirked faintly, a familiar glint returning to his eyes.

"I’m a virgin."

I froze. What?