Shattered (Koa #5)

8. Lila

Chapter 8

Lila

A sher rudely instructs me to lie down at the second station. This one is a chair, and he reclines it back with no warning, so I gasp when I feel like I’m going to fall out. He spins me, so I face the back wall and can’t see Neela or Bane. Asher disappears for a few minutes, preparing the stencils, and when he sits down beside me with three sizes of the tiger on the special paper, my heart takes off. It becomes real.

“Take your shirt off.” When I pull it up to just below my breasts, he growls. “I said OFF.”

“Excuse me? I’m not sure if that’s necessary or professional.”

I seem to know how to push Asher’s buttons because when his eyes meet mine, they’re black .

“Listen, you little bitch . We aren’t open yet, so don’t expect a professional appointment. You’re in my shop, and you’re gonna do what I tell you if you want this fucking tattoo. Now take your fucking shirt off. It’s nothing I haven’t already seen.”

With fury in my eyes, I lift my shirt partially over my chest but leave it on. “I’m not wearing a bra. Hope my tits don’t distract you.”

“What tits?”

His response is so callous that it actually stings, making my heart sink.

“We’re setting up a room in the back for privacy for more intimate tattoos like this. But for you? Not much point moving all this back there. Bane and I have already seen your lack of tits, and I’m guessing your friend already knows what a whore you are.”

He keeps his voice low, but Neela still manages to hear, and she does not appreciate that. “Hey, watch it!”

“It’s okay, Neela. Asher thinks he’s a big scary guy, but it’s all an act,” I say, managing to keep my voice even though every bit of my body feels like it’s vibrating with nerves.

I watch Asher toss aside the larger stencils, deciding on the smallest one. His eyes meet mine, filled with amusement as he holds it up. “We’d better go with the small one. I can’t see you being able to handle the big one.”

I rip the small one out of his hand, startling him, and toss it on the floor. “I want the big one.”

He raises a brow in amusement as he picks up the largest one. As he approaches with it, he freezes, eyeing my shirt over my chest. “I told you to take that off .”

“It’s not in your way,” I say simply .

“It is in my way, and if you want this fucking tattoo, you’re gonna take your shirt off and do what the fuck I tell you!”

“Bastard.”

“Bitch.”

After my shirt is off, he grabs it from my hand, tosses it across the room, and it lands on the floor. Then he comes at me with the stencil, his movements fierce. Once the stencil is on, he peels the paper away. I can see now why he needed my shirt off. The tiger is centered on my chest, just beneath my breasts over my rib cage. Its back end is just slightly between them, and the tail threads up between my breasts. Just the top will peek up when I wear lower-cut shirts.

“Black and gray?” he asks.

“Yeah. How do you like my house? I decorated it just for you.”

“Just like you decorated my hand last night?”

Bane huffs. “Would you two shut up? I can’t hear myself think.”

Asher smirks, lowering his voice when he speaks to me again. It’s potentially the first serious thing he’s said to me with no bullshit. “Check the placement in the mirror while I prep. Make sure you like the position.”

Standing up and walking into the open with no shirt on feels weird. To my great relief, Bane pays me no attention as I approach the mirror. Neela’s closed eyes open, and she glances up at my face with concern, purposely ignoring my tits. I nod to reassure her.

Asher doesn’t scare me. I can handle him.

After I pick up my shirt off the floor, I return to the chair and settle in, placing the shirt in my lap. A moment later, Asher joins me.

“How’s the placement?” he asks, perfectly professional .

Despite how much I fucking hate his guts, I actually love the placement. I’ve never wanted to get a tattoo, but this looks so cool that I can’t say I’m not excited. “It’s perfect.”

That’s when his professionalism dissolves, the moment gone, and I know he’ll taunt me for as long as this tattoo takes. He grabs my shirt off my lap and biffs it across the room again.

“Hey!” I blurt.

“I don’t need you trying to cover up the whole time. Think you can keep your tiny tits out for a couple of hours?”

I scoff. “Do you think you can shut up about my tits?”

“If you can’t handle me making fun of your tits, you can’t handle the pain of a tattoo.”

“That makes NO sense. But by all means, continue if you must.”

He dips the needle tip in black ink and finally approaches my body. He starts with the tiger’s tail, and he rests both his hands directly on my tits. Whether he actually needs to do that, I don’t know.

But I hate that my body reacts to him.

I practically hold my breath as Asher starts the tattoo, and it does hurt. It feels like a sharp needle being dragged across a sunburn. I can’t completely hide the pain on my face, but I’m able to downplay it. At the same time, the feeling of the side of his hand brushing against my nipple as he moves the machine makes it pebble beneath his skin. He uses his other hand to anchor my skin to keep it still. To my disbelief, he stretches his thumb to my other nipple, brushing against the tiny bud until it begins to grow.

“You should be wearing a padded bra if you want to find another husband before your womb dries up. They’re gonna be disappointed when they find out you have tiny tits, so you’ll have to make up for that in other ways.”

“Asher!” Neela snaps as red blooms across my cheeks. The humiliation burns.

He removes the machine from me just long enough to roll his eyes at her, and it gives me a reprieve from the pain. But only for a moment. Of course, he opens his mouth again.

“She’s right. I should probably stop talking. I wouldn’t want you to get too turned on and leave a wet spot on my chair.”

“ASHER!” Bane snaps.

He chuckles.

We bicker a little more as he gets started, but after a while, we both fall silent, him in focus and me trying to brunt through the pain. I’ve never felt anything like it. For the first five minutes, I was worried about what I’d gotten myself into. The pain was so sharp, and it took everything I had to hold a straight face because I refused to wince in front of him. After a while, my body was washed with bliss. The pain felt a little less, and it became tolerable.

Asher made true to his promise that the appointment wouldn’t be professional. I watch him as he works, and though he mostly ignores me, I notice that he takes any opportunity he can to brush against my bare breasts. He uses them as armrests whenever he can, and I try not to let it get to me. He’s so close, hovering over my exposed body, and I can feel the heat pouring off him. His plain grey T-shirt hugs him in all the right places, showing off his broad chest and thick arms covered in cohesive black and grey tattoos. His right arm is covered in greenery and tall, thin cedar trees with a full moon. An enormous snake takes over his left arm, winding and tangling around him in layers. The head is near his elbow, poised to strike.

My tattoo takes a lot longer than expected. I end up in that chair for over three hours, powering through the pain. Neela’s tattoo is finished about an hour into mine, and while she stays with me, Bane leaves. Neela’s quiet, and I tell her she can go if she wants, but she stays.

As time goes on, my tolerance for the pain weans. Neela has me eat a granola bar from her purse, and Asher offers to break a few times, but I refuse. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But truthfully, I’m getting tired.

“That’s all,” Asher finally says, turning his machine off for what I hope is the last time.

“It’s done?”

He shakes his head. “You’ll need another session once it’s healed. We’ll add some more depth and detail to it.”

“What, you’re too tired to finish it today?” I ask, taunting him, and he raises a brow.

“Shut your mouth if you know what’s good for you.”

He takes a few minutes to put a clear bandage over it. Then, to my surprise, he offers me a hand and helps me to my feet. I cross the room to the mirror, and what I see nearly stops my heart.

It’s amazing! It’s so fierce, and I love how it’s oriented on my torso and under my breasts, with the tail between.

“It’s incredible,” is all I can say.

“Keep that on for a few days, and don’t get it wet. After a few days, wash it gently with antibacterial soap and put some unscented lotion on it. Do that twice a day. And eat and drink lots when you get home. ”

“Easy enough. What do I owe you?”

He considers it, and suddenly, his expression shifts. The asshole is back. “I can think of some ideas.”

“How about a number?” Neela asks defensively, fighting on my behalf.

“Watch yourself,” Asher says, as though she’s overstepping boundaries.

Prick.

“Whatever. I’m out of here. Text me a number, and I’ll pay you.”

But something tells me it won’t be a number that he’ll text me.