The door opened, and she walked in. She was not your typical person looking for a tat. I mean, she could sport a tattoo, but she wasn’t our clientele. Standing in the middle of girl mayhem, this woman stole the show. Yeah, she looked good with her long, wavy hair and a curvy body, but there was more. She appeared like an exotic flower placed in a bouquet of ragged wildflowers. She radiated determination. Everyone else dropped away from my sight. Moving over to the counter, she displayed confidence, grace, and elegance.
“I got this, Gabe.” Abraham started toward her. His movement broke my trance, and I grabbed his arm.
“No, I do.” Abraham turned and saw the resolve in my eyes. His expression told me he questioned my motives, again, but he nodded and stepped aside.
She opened the sample book on the counter and looked over our products. By the time I reached her side, she had the pages open to my pain. My tattoo design stared back at me. Lorelei. I smelled her fragrance, so familiar. The woman touched the lips that marked the gateway to arousal on Lorelei’s body. We each had inked the same place. It was ours. As she continued caressing the tattoo in the picture, I flashed back to Lorelei laughing and smiling after our romp for the ages. Miss exotic flower looked up and searched my face. Fixated on the picture I swallowed hard, as I attempted to control the emotion surging in me. Glancing back at the tat book, she smiled. I kicked my brain back in gear.
“Looking to get inked today?”
As she turned and faced me, I gazed into a set of crystal-blue eyes that shimmered like deep water off an island pier. Vibrant and crisp, they made me hot and unsettled. Why had Lorelei’s scent become stronger? Was it the same perfume?
By Dr. J.
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