Jack was nearly at his limit and the woman above him sensed it. Her breathing changed, perhaps also because she had to be exhausted. She’d been hunched over him for nearly eight hours. He imagined Luna’s back had to be screaming. He’d seen her shake her hands out a couple of times when he’d cranked his head around. Her brow had been dabbled with tiny sweat beads which were oddly… hot.

Attraction was like that for Jack. He did find certain women beautiful, attractive sexually even. He just… couldn’t stand the thought of actually being touched by one of them, no matter how alluring they were. Sure he could grind his gloved up flesh against theirs, dig his hands into lush hips but he was too far gone at that point to really think about what he was doing. He never let them touch him. Never. The sexual act wasn’t about intimacy for him. It never had been. Which was why he usually refrained. He knew he wasn’t normal. He was all kinds of fucked up. The wise ones stayed away, but there always was that rare, foolish brand that thought they could save him. When he was through, they knew he was beyond redemption.

Which was why the tingling, burning, tight feeling in his chest was all the more shocking. Jack was given to many vices, but generally didn’t understand what temptation felt like. At least not where a woman was concerned. He felt it now. The strange, prickling under his skin. The hardening of his cock, which was damn uncomfortable considering he was laying on the thing, crushing it. The pull in his balls. I want to touch her. The urge to sit up, reach out, and run a thumb over those silky looking pink lips was so great it was hard to keep himself in check.

Jack waited. He waited and waited, until eventually, as he thought it would, the physical pain above him, around him, below him, drowned out the strange physical urge to reach out to another person.

His back burned. It had gone through all the typical tattoo phases. Not that he really knew since the only time he’d been tattooed he was unconscious. He’d read about it though. The painful needling feel, the numbness, the burn and finally, the raw meat feeling. Someone on an online blog had literally termed it that way and it couldn’t be more accurate.

“How are you doing?” Luna’s voice was thin, a sure sign of exhaustion.

For the second time that night, Jack nearly smiled. He didn’t move. His arm had long since gone numb and his chin rested on it. “I should ask you the same thing. You’re the one slaving over me.”

“Oh.” She seemed surprised, as though anyone would bother or care that she was actually human on the other end of that tattoo gun. As though she wasn’t just an extension of that machine. “I’m alright. Tired I guess, but I’ll live.”

Her voice was dry, humorous. She seemed like the kind of woman who didn’t take herself too seriously, at least not at the moment. That told Jack that she’d endured a hell of a lot. People didn’t have that gift naturally. They learned it. Through flames and fire, trial and hardship.

“Where do you work? And don’t think of lying. I’m harmless, so you don’t have to. And I would know. I have a good bullshit meter.”

He was tempted to try that out, just to get his mind off his raw, ripped up flesh. He decided, for the first time in a very long time, to just tell the truth. To just let himself… be. He expected hesitation, a herculean effort, a dry mouth and sweating palms.

Nothing. He felt none of that.

I want to tell her the truth. Why was that exactly? Jack shut his mind down and refused to give any of his jarring thoughts any real estate in his brain. “I own a club.” Silence. The buzz of the gun. More ripped up flesh. She didn’t like that, Jack figured.

“The seedy kind?” Luna finally asked. The gun changed rhythm as she dipped it into the ink for a refill.

He no longer knew where they were at or what part of the outline she was working on. Was she beyond it? Into colour? Shading? He didn’t even know. He’d done his research and understood the process, he just didn’t know what stage they’d progressed into.

Oddly enough, the more pain Luna caused him physically, the more he relaxed mentally. Jack got exactly why some people said tattoos were like therapy. All that pain was like being cleansed. Washed in some kind of physical purgatory that made you new and clean. He hadn’t felt either of those things in a very, very long time.

Luna’s touch, which had at first panicked him, now brought him a semblance of comfort. He could hardly feel her hand, other than the way it made his skin burn or guided the bite of the machine. What he did feel was the rubber of her glove. Her touch no longer burned him.

“What other kind is there? Clubs I mean?” Luna laughed softly. It was a beautiful, lyrical, magical sound. A sound Jack desperately wanted to hear more of. “You should come some time. If you could lower yourself to appear there I mean.”

“Oh?” The machine never stilled. She was used to conversing while working. “Is it that bad?”

“Not really. It’s just the typical bar scene. Drinking, dancing, dark corners.”

“The three D. That’s what you should have called it.”

Jack uttered a small grunt, which for him, was as close to a laugh as he’d come in years. It hit him then, like a lightning bolt to the chest. I want to know her. Like a normal person knows another person. Except there was nothing normal about him. And Luna deserved much, much better.

“Yah. I should have. Maybe I’ll change the name. It could use a facelift anyway. I’ve been thinking about some renovations for over a year.” Why tell her this? She’s probably bored to tears.

“Cool.” She dipped her gun again, an endless rhythm of refilling and inking, refilling, lines, refilling, pain. “I haven’t gone out in years. I don’t exactly have fun anymore. I think I’m too old for it, you know?”

He knew exactly what she was talking about. She couldn’t be older than her mid twenties but she seemed like an old soul. Like she’d seen too much of life already. Like someone dealt her a shitty hand or hurt her.

I’ll kill them. Whoa. Jack put the brakes hard on the sudden rush of anger that clogged his throat. He had no fucking business whatsoever thinking thoughts like that. He didn’t protect others. He kept to himself because he was the only person he could truly rely on.

“Well, I’m just about done here. You sat through the whole outline and I put some shading in, just to give us a head start for next time.”

The gun made a strange noise, a different kind of buzz, as Luna dipped it in water and set it aside. The cool spray of water was a welcome relief to the horrible wildfire that was his back. Unfortunately it was followed up with a good dousing of antiseptic that nearly made him let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Jack clenched his jaw shut. Hard. He was not going to utter a sound. He sat up and waited, while she played a huge pad like thing on his back and taped it down. He felt like it took up his entire back, which it pretty much did. His first tattoo, that horrible thing he needed covered, hadn’t been so large, but he wanted something that took up his whole back. Might as well cover it all.

“There.” Luna stepped back and Jack could literally see the tired lines etched between her brows and at the corners of her mouth, the dark circles under her eyes. God, she was beautiful. Even like this. She was the kind of woman that would always be beautiful, even under the worst of circumstances.

“When do you want me to come back.” Besides never.

“You need to let that heal. Probably at least two weeks.”

Way too long to wait. “Can you do it sooner?”

Luna swallowed hard. Her eyes darted away for a second before they flew back to Jack’s face. Beautiful eyes. A deep green, far beyond emerald, like the cross between a tropical sea and the lushest grass.

Moron. You live in Detroit. There is no fucking grass. Deep leaves then. Leaves grown on a rare flower. Fucking stop. Pathetic.

“You would have to come before this starts healing if you want to come sooner. I don’t want to tattoo over a bunch of half healed, peeling skin. It’s just really hard.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Do you have any idea how raw you would be? If you thought this was painful tonight, which, perhaps you didn’t, but that would be insanity. I’ve had a couple clients who came from out of town get tattooed back to back. I’ve seen grown men, men who are almost completely tattooed, cry. It would hurt. Terribly.”

“I’ll be here. Same time?”

Luna swallowed hard, her throat actually bobbing with the effort. Those amazing eyes narrowed. “I guess so. If you want torture, I can give it to you. As much as you can take. Just don’t numb yourself. I mean, internally.”

“I’m not into that.” He knew what she meant. “Never have been.” He’d never touched drugs in his life. Not the prescription kind, not the street kind. There had been times he’d stitched himself up with a needle and thread. No hospitals. He didn’t have the money before and now he was far too distrustful. Even though he owned a club and had access to anything he wanted, drugs, drink, women, Jack didn’t partake.

He’d been drunk a few times before. Who hadn’t? The liquor didn’t numb out the pain. It only magnified all the memories best forgotten.

“Yah, well. I guess so. Same time. Come to the back door again. I’m charging you triple.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. Although, perhaps I should pay you more than that, for the lack of sleep you’ll be getting tonight.”

Luna’s face paled. “What… what do you mean?” She stammered, clearly unnerved.

Something passed between them. Something silent, just a look. A feeling. Jack shivered but was flooded with warmth, that weird tightness in his chest. His cock hardened again and he cursed his strange reaction, a reaction that was purely visceral, filled with a need he would rather deny.

“I mean, because it’s late. It will be late tomorrow. And the night after, if that’s what it takes.”

“No… I want…” Luna trailed off. Twin spots of colour appeared on her cheekbones. She was blushing. It was far too late and they were both far too awkward. Jack had the feeling that Luna was as alien to trusting and emotion as he was.

“What do you want, Luna?” Fuck. Was that deep, husky voice really his own? His hand itched to reach out and caress the soft skin of her cheek. Touch that beautiful pink hair. Her lips. Hell, anywhere.

“I… nothing.” Those full lips compressed into a thin line. “Just be here at seven. Triple the pay is fine.” She turned and started cleaning up, clear that he was dismissed.

Jack needed to get out of there. He needed air. Fresh, night air. Because this room was about ten sizes too small and if he stayed in it one second more, he would grab Luna and kiss the breath out of her lungs, steal it for his own.

He fled down the hall and burst out the back door, breathing hard. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the block that he realized he’d forgotten to pay her.