******

“What do you think of that one?” she asked, pointing to a skull with snakes coming out of its eyes to make Nick laugh, but the man only glared down at her.

He’d been doing it for the past hour. Well, actually for the first twenty minutes he argued against her going through with this, but this was something that she wanted to do and wouldn’t let anyone talk her out of. For years she toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo, but her family’s disapproving attitude and her inability to stick up for herself held her back. After the phone call from her mother she decided that she was done letting her family’s expectations, needs and wants dictate her life. This was her life and she was going to start really living it.

It also didn’t hurt that over the past month she’d learned to take chances and enjoy her life. Before this tour she only dreamed of doing things like riding on a motorcycle or trying out paintball, but now that she did them she couldn’t help but want to do all of those other things that she’d been curious about over the years.

She was still nervous. Not that she’d admit that to Nick, but she was glad that he came with her tonight. She only wished that he’d lighten up a bit.

“This is permanent, Jamie,” he reminded her, again.

“That’s the whole point, Nick,” she said, walking over to the picture of the tribal tattoo that she’d chosen ten minutes ago. It was black, intricate and beautiful and she couldn’t wait to have it on her body.

“I really think that you should take some time and think this over,” he said as he ran his eyes over the artwork on the wall.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this for years, Nick. It’s not like I’m making some drunken impulsive decision,” she pointed out.

“Then what would one more week hurt?” he asked, still not looking at her.

She’d noticed since he opened his door to try and stop her from doing this that he wouldn’t look her in the eye, or at her face for that matter. She didn’t know what was wrong and wasn’t going to stress herself out trying to figure it out.

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“Are you ready?” the tattoo artist names Bret asked as he gestured for her to come with him.

She didn’t even hesitate when she said, “Yes,” and followed after him. She ignored Nick’s muttered curses and focused on getting something she’d always wanted.

This was going to be great!

******

“Ow! Owie!” Jamie cried out, but thankfully didn’t move.

It was bad enough that she was going through with this asinine plan, she didn’t need a f**ked up tattoo on top of everything. He really wished she’d listened to him, but the damn stubborn woman wouldn’t listen to reason. Tattoos on women were tacky and he hated the idea of her marring her body with one. It didn’t matter how sexy the woman was, tattoos always turned him off. Then again maybe it was for the best that she was getting something done to her that would repulse him, he decided as Jamie squeezed his hands tightly.

“I think he’s almost done,” he said soothingly even as he prayed that it was the truth. His damn legs were cramping up, but he refused to let her hands go out of fear that she would bolt and screw up the tattoo.

“That’s what you said an hour ago!” Jamie said accusingly as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“It was ten minutes ago, Jamie. It only seems like an hour ago because you’re in pain,” he explained as gently as he could while Jamie continued to mutter a combination of “ow” and “owie.”

“Almost done,” Bret thankfully said.

Nick didn’t bother looking at her tattoo as it was being drawn on. He’d still been too upset that she was doing something this stupid. He still couldn’t believe she was getting it on her lower back, right above her ass and yeah, when the guy had her drop her pants and panties halfway down her ass he looked and drooled.

She really had a beautiful ass. It was round, soft and groan worthy, but the damn woman decided to ruin the scenery with a tramp stamp of all things. No doubt by next week he was going to have to take her to have the damn thing removed.

“All set,” Bret announced.

Jamie cracked one eye open. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

With that, Jamie was off the table and righting her clothes even as she walked stiff legged to front of the store to pay the man.

“Don’t you want to look at it?” Nick asked, frowning when the stubborn woman shook her head and kept moving.

With a sigh he followed after her, making a mental note to pick up chocolate on the way to the hotel since there was no doubt that she was going to need it.

******

“What now?” he asked wearily as he opened his door and found his little recluse shifting nervously in front of him in a baby blue tee shirt and another pair of those damn flannel pants that he shouldn’t find sexy, but did.

“I can’t get the bandage off. It’s been more than two hours and I’m supposed to wash it now with a little bit of antibacterial soap,” she said, holding up the small bottle of liquid hand soap, “and gently wipe it, but I can’t reach the top corners of the bandage.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he wondered when this horrible day would end, he stepped to the side and allowed her to come in. The sooner he got this over with the sooner she’d leave and he could return to staring at the television as he tried not to think of all the bullshit that waited for him tomorrow.

“Where do you want to do this?” she asked, looking around the small hotel room.

“Get on the bed, Jamie,” he said, gesturing lazily towards the double bed.

“O-okay,” she said nervously as she put the soap and tube of ointment she’d been carrying onto the edge of the bed and carefully laid across the bed on her stomach.

When she didn’t move her shirt and pants out of the way so that he could get to the tattoo he resigned himself to the task. He paused by the bed and pulled his shirt off over his head before it got ruined by the ointment.

“I have to move your clothes out of the way,” he explained even as he reached for her tee-shirt. Thankfully she had enough sense not to argue and even raised up a bit to help him with the task. He pushed it up until it reached her underarms and then reached for her flannel pajama pants, careful not to touch the bandage and hurt her.

When his fingers brushed against her surprisingly firm ass he had to take a deep breath to get his breathing under control. He was supposed to be doing her a favor, not ogling her ass, he reminded himself as he pulled her pants and panties down, revealing move of her ass.




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