The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room like background static to the storm building quietly between them.
“You sure you wanna do this? I was giving you s**t a minute ago we don’t have to if you don’t want too.” TJ asked, eyes flicking from her face to her bare thigh as she lay back on the padded chair.
She smirked, despite the tiny voice in her head screaming girl what are you doing. “You already saw me come apart once. Might as well watch me flinch under a needle.”
He groaned, low and dangerous. “Don’t say s**t like that when I’m trying to be professional.”
“Since when?” she deadpanned.
Touché.
He rolled his neck and snapped on his gloves, suddenly all business. The moment shifted from banter to something heavier. Thicker. More intimate.
“Okay, thigh’s prepped,” he said, ge
