The Tattoo Artist (SAMPLE, NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON)

1- Roscoe

Months ago, Ginger and I had a falling out, and I told her, see ya, don't let the door hit you in your ass on your way out! I also told her to lose my number.

However, since it's been months since I'd last had any pleasurable relief without using my hand, and desperate to wet my dick, I'm seconds away from calling her to see if she's up for some loveless, meaningless sex. Especially after the girl I'd had my eyes on these last few months walked into my tattoo parlor the other day, hand in hand with another guy.

A new guy.

And it still has me wondering what the fuck?

Why?

Well, for six months or so, she's been coming to me, flirting and taunting me with her gorgeous curvy body. Asking-no begging is more like it that I take her out and excite her in more ways than one by taking her for a ride on my motorcycle. But then she had the nerve to corner me in my private room and bat her beautiful long thick eyelashes at me while asking if I was interested in having a threesome with her and this guy she recently hooked up with.

Having threesomes was shit I did when I was young, dumb, and full of cum. Hell, I'm still full of that and extremely anxious to get laid.

In all honesty, I'm not that fucking desperate to get myself involved in some shitty threesome with a beautiful babe named Bianca and a guy I don't even fucking know.

Fuck that.

The longer I sit at my desk drawing my next potential client's tattoo, the more I think about Ginger, my wants and needs, and how the argument with her even happened. I dropped my pencil, leaned back in my chair, and groaned while closing my eyes and rubbing my face.

Thinking of Ginger and sex wasn't getting me anywhere. All it was doing was getting me more frustrated. Knowing I needed to focus on work, I let out a long, exasperated sigh, lowered my hands, picked up the drawing, and stared at it for the longest time. The sketch turned out perfectly, but the woman wanting this particular tattoo inked into her skin is a virgin. She's never been inked; the only thing on her body is pierced ears. She actually reminds me of Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz.

Pure and Innocent.

A knock at the door got my attention. I set down the drawing and headed to the door. "Hey, Emerald. What's up?"

"There's a woman here to see you."

I raised my arm, looked at my watch, then looked back at Emerald. "My next appointment isn't supposed to be here for another half hour. Is she early?"

Emerald flashed her pearly whites and slowly shook her head. "Nah, this isn't your appointment; the woman out there looking at the pictures on the wall is someone who doesn't have an appointment. But she specifically asked to see you."

The way Emerald smiled at me told me the woman was someone I knew. My heart stopped pumping blood through my veins. Either it's either Ginger, which I hope it isn't. Or it's my best friend, Shiloh, who moved from Vegas to Malibu a while back to marry the love of her life. Crossing my fingers, I peeked around her and smiled, asking, "Is it Shiloh?"

"No," Emerald laughed. "It's not her or Ginger, if that's who you think it is. I'm not exactly sure who she is. All I know is that she's cute and wants to see only you..."

"Cute?"

"Yes. Cute and innocent. You know, the ones that seem to be coming in here lately." Emerald smiled. "Now hurry and see what she wants before your appointment arrives."

I'm not going to lie; I felt bummed to hear that it wasn't Shiloh. When I left Malibu, she mentioned she'd visit soon, wanting me to pop her cherry. She, too, was a virgin with tattoos, and after she saw what I did to her husband's body, she asked me to ink some memorable tattoos on her.