Tattoo

Asshole turned silent beside Cathryn for the first time as he followed her around. It made her think that he was planning something she didn't like.

Nevermind. Cathryn had liked this current attitude of his. She hoped this continued forever. She finally got him where she wanted him and he was docile. Not the type of word Cathryn would describe a hurricane like him.

Cathryn scanned her surroundings, ignoring the noise. The tattoo artists who participated were almost halfway with their work and she hadn't started yet. From the corner of her eye, she noticed some people giving her uneven hair weird glances and she shifted from foot to foot, suddenly uncomfortable.

Chopping the left side of her hair so short might be a bad idea. Should she just shave the left part of it?

One reason of hers for impulsively cutting it was because she was tired of combing the thing (Cathryn was not being called Medusa by her friends for nothing because sometimes, she wondered if her hair was truly alive) and the other reason was the weather was so hot, it was no secret that she was cutting it sooner or later.

Cathryn did not anticipate to cut it in a dramatic style involving this dude so that she could get him to model her artwork.

Fate had its way of complicating things, literally tangling random people together.

At least, the dude had a conscience and followed through her plan.

Determined to win the money, Cathryn took out all her twenty-four paintbrushes of different size and hair texture, and the two henna inks: black and red.

"Take your shirt off," Cathryn commanded. One corner of those gorgeous lips twitched as though he was fighting a grin. Of course, he ignored her demand.

"You're the artist, Red. You do it."

Cathryn narrowed her eyes at him. Arguing further with him is a sure waste of time so she quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingers gripped the hem of his shirt, yanked it from his broad shoulders, and tossed it on the floor.

Cathryn's mouth dropped open, her gaze zeroing in on his nipples. They were small and brown, perfect for licking. Or so she had been told a lot of times by Edward whenever he saw a man like this one. Cathryn's best friend has a fascination, borderline obsession, and lust, for the male body.

When her focus lowered to his ropes of muscle lining his stomach, then his navel, Cathryn gulped. He ran his tongue over his lips, looking rather pleased by her reaction.

"Liked what you see?" He asked huskily.

"Shut up," Cathryn muttered.

His head tilted to the side as he studied her, those lips still twitching.

"Not your type?"

"No." Cathryn lied. He was gorgeous, okay? The egotistical bastard!

Of its own accord, her gaze dropped once more to his chest, then to his broad shoulders and then to the corded muscles of his neck.

Cathryn watched, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. She scanned his face and drank in his golden caramel eyes. Man, this guy was temptation incarnate. A sex god.

Cathryn's heart beat faster as she struggled for control. She shook her head, realizing she must get herself together. For the sake of money, she must do this.

Besides, Cathryn was with him for a reason, remember?

"What will you draw on me?" He asked, curious, and her amusement intensified for some reason.

"I'm not sure." Cathryn teased him instead. "This will be the first time I'm drawing. I should draw a house, a stick-man family, a dog, flowers and the sun. I think it'll be great for you."

"You're joking, right?" He looked nervous at that so Cathryn decided to cut him some slack. She wiped the sweat on his forehead and his chest with tissues to clean him up.

"You don't have to be nervous. I'm an art student so keep calm and breathe."

He narrowed his amber eyes at her in suspicion.

Exasperated, Cathryn reached up and cupped his jaw, forcing his gaze on hers. "I did not come here to embarrass myself, okay, and it is considered rude to ask an artist what he/she will draw because sometimes the outcome would be unexpected. "

"But, you're smirking." He pointed out. "And that means, my future is at stake."

"Here. Do you trust me now?" Cathryn toned down her smirk and gave him her sincerest smile instead.

"Tell me how hot I am and I'll trust you with my body." He gave her another of his wicked grins and Cathryn rolled her eyes at him again.

"How long will the tattoo last?" He asked.

"About three weeks?" Cathryn offered and his cheeky smile dropped suddenly.

"Why are you answering me with a question?" He growled, his eyes glittered dangerously and it made her stand straight more alert. "I thought you're the expert here."

Cathryn stopped dabbing the foundation on his body, placed one hand on his wrist, and poked his hard chest.

"I'm the expert here, we made a deal, and you better shut up or I might change my mind of making you more of a gorgeous bad-ass, and I have to ruin your body instead."