Read Online Held: A New Adult Romance by Jessica Pine - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Pine
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you?"
"Sure," I said. I made a mental note to run down to the health center the next day. Maybe grab a morning-after pill too, just to be on the safe side.
"Good," he said. "'Cause I fucking hate condoms."
Afterwards I wanted to cry; I was so disappointed. Justin was annoyed because I didn't come and I was ashamed that I hadn't. The truth was it didn't feel nearly as good as it did when he went down on me, and I couldn't relax because I was too worried about getting pregnant. But I'd sworn I'd do it, which is how I ended up in the chair in the tattoo parlor.
I wasn't prepared for how much it hurt. The henna tattoo had been on the fleshy part of my upper arm, but this was right on the bony part at the bottom of my neck. When the needle went in I could feel the vibrations all down the length of my spine. Tears sprung to my eyes right away.
"Are you okay?" said the tattooist. "You did say you'd had this done before, didn't you?"
"Henna," I said. "I'm okay. Honestly."
She looked skeptical but carried on anyway. Her name was Theresa - Justin had introduced us before. She had bright blue waist length dreadlocks and so many piercings that I didn't think her pain threshold could be anything like a normal person's.
It was terrible. I kept wincing away from the needle and she was getting slowly more and more impatient. "I shouldn't do this," she said, taking out a bottle of tequila from the desk drawer. "But I keep this for emergencies. If you don't relax I'm going to have to stop and you're going to have a half-finished tattoo."
"How far have you got?" I asked.
"I'm just starting the S," she said.
"Oh God."
Justin came in. "How's she doing, Tess?"
"Awful," said Theresa, like I wasn't there. "Keeps wincing. She's lucky I didn't slip."
I drank off two straight shots of tequila. It tasted like nail polish remover to me, but if it promised to keep me numb then I was willing to drink a quart of the damned stuff. Justin held me still in the chair. She got as far as dotting the i before I asked for another break and some more tequila.
“This had better be worth it,” I said, when she’d gone out for a smoke.
“Sure it is,” said Justin. “Looks great. Makes me happy. What more can a girl ask for?”
“Less pain?”
“Life is pain, baby,” he said, giving me a sloppy, tequila scented kiss. “It’s how we know we’re still breathing. You should embrace it.”
“What? Like Theresa?”
He laughed and looked furtive. “Maybe not that far,” he said. “You know she’s got a metal bolt through her goddamn clit?”
I didn’t have time to ask him how he knew that, but I knew. I knew as soon as she walked back in the room and the expression on his face shifted to one of amused interest – he wanted to see how I’d react. I felt sick, but I had to keep sitting there. The other option was storming out with the word JUSTI inked on the back of my neck.
Maybe he was trying to distract me. It worked. I barely felt it as she worked on the N – I was too angry. I kept thinking of all the times he’d left me high and not-so-dry, wondering where he was getting what he was withholding from me, at great cost to himself. Men, as Everglade was fond of telling me lately, were almost always looking for some sort of hole to fuck.
“You’re done,” said Theresa, clapping a sterile dressing on the nape of my neck. “Keep it dry, keep it out of the sun and whatever you do, don’t pick the scabs off when they form.”
I shot out of the shop like it was on fire. Justin came out after me, easily keeping pace with my angry strides. “You okay?” he said.
“What do you fucking think?”
I kept walking, the ocean roar a kind of cool white noise in my head. I headed down onto the beach, wondering if I could wreck Theresa’s artwork by taking a dip in the water. I couldn't remember ever being so mad. I went raging off down the beach, not even sure where I was going. I knew
"Sure," I said. I made a mental note to run down to the health center the next day. Maybe grab a morning-after pill too, just to be on the safe side.
"Good," he said. "'Cause I fucking hate condoms."
Afterwards I wanted to cry; I was so disappointed. Justin was annoyed because I didn't come and I was ashamed that I hadn't. The truth was it didn't feel nearly as good as it did when he went down on me, and I couldn't relax because I was too worried about getting pregnant. But I'd sworn I'd do it, which is how I ended up in the chair in the tattoo parlor.
I wasn't prepared for how much it hurt. The henna tattoo had been on the fleshy part of my upper arm, but this was right on the bony part at the bottom of my neck. When the needle went in I could feel the vibrations all down the length of my spine. Tears sprung to my eyes right away.
"Are you okay?" said the tattooist. "You did say you'd had this done before, didn't you?"
"Henna," I said. "I'm okay. Honestly."
She looked skeptical but carried on anyway. Her name was Theresa - Justin had introduced us before. She had bright blue waist length dreadlocks and so many piercings that I didn't think her pain threshold could be anything like a normal person's.
It was terrible. I kept wincing away from the needle and she was getting slowly more and more impatient. "I shouldn't do this," she said, taking out a bottle of tequila from the desk drawer. "But I keep this for emergencies. If you don't relax I'm going to have to stop and you're going to have a half-finished tattoo."
"How far have you got?" I asked.
"I'm just starting the S," she said.
"Oh God."
Justin came in. "How's she doing, Tess?"
"Awful," said Theresa, like I wasn't there. "Keeps wincing. She's lucky I didn't slip."
I drank off two straight shots of tequila. It tasted like nail polish remover to me, but if it promised to keep me numb then I was willing to drink a quart of the damned stuff. Justin held me still in the chair. She got as far as dotting the i before I asked for another break and some more tequila.
“This had better be worth it,” I said, when she’d gone out for a smoke.
“Sure it is,” said Justin. “Looks great. Makes me happy. What more can a girl ask for?”
“Less pain?”
“Life is pain, baby,” he said, giving me a sloppy, tequila scented kiss. “It’s how we know we’re still breathing. You should embrace it.”
“What? Like Theresa?”
He laughed and looked furtive. “Maybe not that far,” he said. “You know she’s got a metal bolt through her goddamn clit?”
I didn’t have time to ask him how he knew that, but I knew. I knew as soon as she walked back in the room and the expression on his face shifted to one of amused interest – he wanted to see how I’d react. I felt sick, but I had to keep sitting there. The other option was storming out with the word JUSTI inked on the back of my neck.
Maybe he was trying to distract me. It worked. I barely felt it as she worked on the N – I was too angry. I kept thinking of all the times he’d left me high and not-so-dry, wondering where he was getting what he was withholding from me, at great cost to himself. Men, as Everglade was fond of telling me lately, were almost always looking for some sort of hole to fuck.
“You’re done,” said Theresa, clapping a sterile dressing on the nape of my neck. “Keep it dry, keep it out of the sun and whatever you do, don’t pick the scabs off when they form.”
I shot out of the shop like it was on fire. Justin came out after me, easily keeping pace with my angry strides. “You okay?” he said.
“What do you fucking think?”
I kept walking, the ocean roar a kind of cool white noise in my head. I headed down onto the beach, wondering if I could wreck Theresa’s artwork by taking a dip in the water. I couldn't remember ever being so mad. I went raging off down the beach, not even sure where I was going. I knew
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