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“You don’t have to do that.”
“Humor me.”
She rolls her eyes and turns, disappearing behind those black curtains. I stand motionless for a second before deciding to follow her to whatever’s behind door number three.
Once on the other side of the curtain, I pause just to get a good look at the place. There are eight work stations, each outfitted with a white curtain hung like a shower curtain around a claw foot bathtub. Black leather chairs, assorted tools of the trade, and Craftsman toolboxes are at each station.
At the very back of the open space is another set of black curtains, which a huge, muscular, bearded and bald man pushes aside as he enters. Every inch of visible skin from his neck down is covered in tattoos and he has a thick nose piercing.
As he approaches Dani and I, he snarls.
“Relax,” Dani tells him. “He’s a friend.”
“Right.” He growls and stares me down. “If you need anything, ring me.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Rob.”
He grunts, continuing to stare at me until he disappears out into the front room.
“Scary guy, huh?” Dani taunts.
“No.” I shake my head, lying through my teeth. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
She steps up to a workstation. I follow suit and peer at the wicked looking tools of her trade. I feel the color drain out of my face and panic runs through me. I blink as I start to feel light headed, and—
“Hunter!”
I hear Dani call my name just about the time I feel someone grab my arm. I blink a few more times until Dani’s face comes into focus again.
“Holy shit,” she says, eyes wide. “You’re afraid of needles.”
“What?” I try snorting and laughing with disdain, but it’s clear from her expression she’s not buying it. I wave my hand. “I’m not fond of needles, no.”
Part of me half expects her to say something nasty, but her expression softens and then she shrugs and turns away. I frown, not liking the feeling that she’s dismissing my fear. Dismissing me.
“Maybe it’s time I face my fear,” I blurt out. Immediately, I mentally cringe, but keep my expression blank so as not to give myself away.
“No need to do it anytime soon.”
“You don’t think I can actually do it?” I don’t want to admit that seeing Mr. Macho just now has me feeling like I have something to prove. To her. To myself.
“What, you think getting a tattoo is gonna sway me to your cause with Chad?”
“Not at all. I’m just surprised, I guess, that I liked some of the work displayed out there so much. Maybe I’d like having a tattoo. Or hell, maybe I’d like a piercing. They say it heightens sexual pleasure, right?”
“I’m not piercing your dick.”
This time I can’t help it and visibly wince. “As if I’d let you anywhere near my dick with a needle,” I shoot back. “But maybe someplace else.”
She reaches forward and lightly pinches the lobe of my right ear, the one she’d pinched much harder after I’d pretended I was going to kiss her. “How do you feel about an ear piercing?”
“I’d rather keep a clean image for my clients.”
“Fine.” She takes a step back and eyes me up and down. A challenge lights her eyes, and it sparks off tremors of excitement in my belly. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
“Take off your shirt.”
