Saturday, April 14, 2012

Chapter 14


Hot Bubblegum by SoapyMayhem

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.



0. . . oO•.o.Hot Bubblegum.o.•Oo . . .0
Chapter 14
*\o\Edward Masen Cullen/o/*



"Almost done, Darlin... just a couple more minutes," I reassured her, giving her other shoulder a firm squeeze as I filled in a couple details I missed.

"Okay, so I'm finished with the outline, and we just need to set up an appointment to finish up the color. I recommend waiting about two weeks. That will give the outline time to heal, so it's not too tender when we do the rest," I explained, hoping she'd listen to my suggestion. If we worked on the color any sooner, she was gonna be hurting way more than necessary.

"I guess I can wait two weeks," she said as I cleaned her up.

"So… do you have a friend or boyfriend who can help you with after-care?" I asked curiously. It was obvious my question was two-fold - of course she'd need help with cleaning the tat, but what I really wanted to know was whether or not she was single.

"What?"

"You might be able to clean your back with like a soft sponge on a stick or something, but it would make things easier if you had someone to help you," I explained.

"Oh umm… yeah my friend… umm… Ange could probably help me?" she said, posing her statement as a question.

"Sure," I replied, fighting a grin because she didn't mention having a boyfriend.

.

.

I took a few minutes to show Bella how to take care of fresh ink. It wasn't rocket science, so she caught on pretty quickly, assuring me she wouldn't do anything to fuck it up.

"So where you off to after this, Darlin?"

"Nowhere in particular… why?" she replied, giving me a little half-grin that was equal parts sexy and adorable.

"I was thinking of ordering a pizza and having a couple beers - would be cool if you wanted to join me?" I replied, internally kicking myself for basically asking her to hang out like I would have some of my boys or something.

"Sure," she replied, sounding way more excited than I would have expected. It wasn't like she looked like some prissy bitch that needed to be wined and dined, but I also didn't expect her to be a pizza and beer kind of girl either.

"Really?" I asked one final time, hoping she wouldn't back out. Porn star or not, I was looking forward to spending a little more time with Bella - and if things got physical, then that would just be a bonus.

.

.

"The pizza okay?" I asked with an amused grin as she practically inhaled a slice of the mushroom and cheese I had delivered from Tony's down the street.

"Yeah, and the beer too - its way better than that PBR piss all my hipster friends try to get me to drink. I've never tried this before," she said, looking at the bottle of Heineken I passed her.

"Don't you dare tell on me for supplying you with alcohol - I don't want to go prison for contributing to the delinquency of a minor," I reminded her with a smirk before tipping back my second beer. Thankfully, I only had three beers at the shop. I didn't want Bella thinking I was trying to get her drunk to get in her pants. I was pretty sure I didn't need to stoop so low anyway - if the heated glances she'd been giving me were any indication, she was as good as mine.

"I wouldn't tell on you, silly," she replied, rolling her eyes at me.

I had to laugh - she was already looking a little glassy-eyed after that one beer.

"Good… 'cause I'm too pretty for prison, Darlin," I drawled, before licking my lips a little. Bella's gaze was locked on my mouth, and I was about to lean in and make my move when she huffed in irritation.

"Damn, this thing itches," she grunted, trying to look backwards as if she could actually see something.

"Come here - let me take a look," I whispered, patting my lap.

Yeah… put that luscious ass in my lap, little girl.

     

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