When Maggie walked into Chaos Tattoos, she wanted a navel piercing. But Anthony had more in mind for the pretty, submissive brunette. Much more. Detailing what he wanted to do to her, which included a bare ass spanking for beginners, he told her to think it over and return in two days time, if she were interested.
He never doubted she'd be back. Although Maggie resisted the tall, dominant Anthony at first, she did return. Giving herself over to her most basic desires, she learned how complete submission could bring her to heights of pleasure she'd never before experienced.
She’d been considering coming into the tattoo parlor for some time. Anthony had noticed her park her car, get out and walk first toward, then past the shop for weeks now. Someone else might not have paid any attention, but Anthony did. He and his brother Joel owned the tattoo parlor on Fifth and Crescent with the huge picture window that overlooked the busy street. Joel, the younger of the two, worked a few hours a week. Anthony, at thirty-seven, had been tattooing for the last ten years and Chaos was his baby. He’d established Chaos four years ago, and now, after what seemed like ages, they finally had enough money saved up to renovate the place. But renovations meant a stop to business, or at least less business, so as Anthony worked on the shop, he had time to observe the passersby and this woman had caught his attention.
Although she was not what most guys considered hot, Anthony found her sexy. She was small, maybe five feet, two inches tall, and had long, dark hair, a slim figure, and an incredible ass. In fact, that was what had caught his eye—her ass as she walked away from the shop that first time. A small waist that swelled into a nice pair of soft, round cheeks that he couldn’t help but imagine getting his hands on. The look in her eyes told him her heart pounded as she considered whether or not she had the guts to walk into a tattoo parlor with a guy like him inside.
Anthony was about six feet, three inches tall. He worked out some and mostly just had a good, solid build; always had. He shaved his head bald but left a short layer of dark stubble on his face. His full-sleeve tattoos tended to scare off suburban women, which she definitely was. He guessed she was about thirty, thirty-two. She didn’t work down here, not dressed like she was. She wore tight faded jeans and a linen jacket most days. Likely patronizing the high-end shopping district located just two blocks away.
And here she was again, her black Audi turning onto the wet street to find a parking space. Anthony kept working as a smile crept along his face. He had a feeling today was going to be the day.
He watched out of the corner of his eye as she tried to fit her car into a tight spot along the street. Clearly parallel parking was not her forte, but she seemed determined. After three tries she finally succeeded, and stepped out of her car. A truck yielded to let her cross the busy lane and she did so, running without an umbrella through the heavy rain. He didn’t look away today; he wanted her to walk in. He wanted to work on her and hoped she’d want something intricate on some very private part of her body. He wanted his hands on her skin.
The bell over the door rang as she opened it and Anthony turned, trying to look at her as he did everyone else who walked into the place.
“Morning,” he said, climbing down from the ladder he was on. He was painting a mural along the wall and it was almost finished. Tribal art would cover all four walls soon, all black and white with one point of bright, powerful red. He liked it; it suited him.
“Good morning,” she answered. Her voice fit with the rest of her: kind of nervous and quiet, coming out small. Anthony smiled as her eyes fixed on the tattoos that marked his arms and neck. He considered taking off his shirt, but knew she’d just go running right out the door that it had taken her weeks to walk through.
“Are you open? I guess you’re renovating,” she said, looking around. Anthony wrapped his paintbrush in foil and wiped off his hands. The room was kind of a mess, but he had to move things around to get the walls painted. He’d left one table in the middle of the room for those clients who still came to get work done. For the most part, though, it was so quiet now that Joel didn’t even need to be at the shop.
“We can work through the renovation. What can I do for you?” Anthony asked, coming a little closer. She looked even smaller now that she stood in front of him. She leaned just a little bit away and he wondered if she was even aware of the small movement. He smiled and held out his hand. She was nervous and maybe a little scared. He liked that combination very much.
“I’m Anthony Lawson; I’m the owner of Chaos and the main artist. You’re here for a tattoo?”
“Oh, no,” she said, slipping her small hand into his rough, paint-smudged one. “Sorry, I’m Maggie,” she said. “Maggie Adler. Nice to meet you.”
He didn’t let go of her hand but instead waited for her to continue.
“I wanted to have my belly button pierced.”
Damn. A piercing. It would be so quick it’d barely be a teaser.
“Mmm hmm,” he said, still holding on to her.
She kept talking, something she probably always did when she was anxious. “I was wondering if you do that? I mean, I assumed a tattoo parlor would do that. Only if it won’t hurt so much though,” she quickly added.
Anthony exhaled a small laugh. “Let’s have a look.” He let go of her hand, grabbed the nearest chair and sat down right where he’d been standing. “Lift your top,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers, studying her reaction to him. Christ, he was starting to get hard.
She fumbled to open the buttons on her blazer and lifted her shirt to reveal a flat, tanned stomach. Anthony grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer, setting her off-balance. He held on to her longer than necessary as he pretended to check out her navel. When he released her, she remained where she was, sucking in a breath as he ran his hand over her belly button.
“We can do it now,” he said.
“Will it hurt?” she asked.
“Depends on your tolerance for pain,” he answered smoothly and stood. “Lie down on the table while I get a needle.”
“Oh. Uh, maybe I should come back when you’re open for real.” She fumbled with her purse and took a step toward the door.
“So you can run away like a frightened little rabbit?”
She stared at him wide-eyed.
“You won’t come back if you leave now.” He turned to walk to the back room. “Choose a piece of jewelry from the case, then lie down on the table, Maggie,” he said as he looked over his shoulder at her.
She obeyed. That was a good sign. He figured her to be a submissive; everything about her screamed it, actually. Even her body type, petite with a great ass for spanking, whipping…
Cobblestone Press- http://www.cobblestone-press.com/catalog/books/pierced.htm