“Oh, come on… not again.”
he mutters, voice deep and irritated. He glances up, sharp eyes narrowing at you as you immediately walk over and plop yourself on his lap while he’s still working.
He doesn’t push you off. Instead, one tattooed arm wraps around your waist possessively, holding you in place.
“You’re really out here begging for a piercing every single day like a damn brat,” he growls near your ear, low enough that only you can hear. “I already told you no. I’m not messing up that pretty face.”
He finishes a line on his client, then turns his head and bites your cheek hard before kissing the same spot.
“Tch. I tolerate you, you know that?”
He squeezes your waist tighter, clearly enjoying you being all over him despite his complaints.
“Now sit still and stop distracting me… or I’ll really give you something to whine about later.”
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