“You always do.” He patted her butt and directed her to the table where Butch was waiting.

She unfastened her jeans and slid them low on her hips so he had more area to work with. He transferred the stencil to her lower back and made her look in the mirror to make sure it was where she wanted it. It looked even better on her skin than on the paper.

“So sexy,” Eric murmured.

Butch laughed. “She’d make any tattoo look sexy. Great-lookin’ woman you’ve got here.”

Rebekah beamed. She never tired of compliments.

While the stencil dried on Rebekah’s lower back, Butch busied himself changing the needle in the little machine that reminded Rebekah of a small gun, only with a big freaking needle sticking out of the end. She was trying to be brave, but her tummy fluttered with nerves.

“Do you want yours to match hers?” Butch asked Eric.

“Less swirls in the lettering and bats instead of butterflies, but yeah.”

Rebekah tensed when Butch dragged the buzzing needle across her skin. It felt like someone was scratching her repeatedly. It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as she’d expected, but adrenaline continuously pumped through her body. Eric held her hand the entire time and kept asking if she was okay.

“Why don’t you try taking my mind off it instead of reminding me that someone is jabbing me with a needle eleventy million times?” she asked testily.

“Sorry.”

“Do you still have that jagged crack I inked between your shoulder blades?” Butch asked Eric.

“Yeah. I haven’t even modified it. Still looks great.”

“That’s the first tattoo I ever did professionally,” Butch said.

“How old were you, Eric?”

“Um, fifteen, I think.”

“Yeah, he tried to tell me he was eighteen. I figured he was lying, but I needed the experience, so I put him under the needle.”

“I like that tattoo,” Rebekah said. It looked like a crack in the earth that led to hell. The fingers of a demonic hand protruded from the fiery interior, clinging to the edge of the fissure, as if trying to escape. She sucked a breath through her teeth as the needle passed over bone for the first time. “Ow.” Another surge of adrenaline coursed through her body.

Butch paused to let her catch her breath. “Okay to continue?”

he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Your name wasn’t even Sticks back then,” Butch said. “What was it again?”

Rebekah strained her neck to look at Eric. He was scowling.

“Anderson,” he said finally.

“Sticks isn’t your real name?” Rebekah asked. The needle scraped over her spine again. “Ow.”

“Yeah. I had it legally changed when I turned eighteen.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want my mother’s fuckin’ name anymore, that’s why.”

Apparently a testy subject.

“And that design he wanted on his back?” Butch said. “He told me it was a crack in his soul to let the pain escape. Pretty profound for a fifteen-year-old kid.”

“You have a big mouth, Butch,” Eric grumbled.

“You haven’t told her any of this stuff? No wonder she’s willing to have your name inked across her back.”

“The past can’t be changed,” she said. “The future can’t be predicted. All we really have is the present. So none of that matters to me.”

“Isn’t she perfect?” Eric murmured.

“It’s about time you found the perfect girl,” Butch teased.

“You’re practically an old man.”

“Twenty-eight next week. I am gettin’ up there.”

“Your birthday is next week!” Rebekah sputtered. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

“Never occurred to me.”

“What day?”

“December third.”

She didn’t have much time to put together a special surprise for him. “Well, happy birthday,” she said. “In case I forget.” As if.

He took her hand and linked his fingers through hers. “Thanks.

I never thought I’d live to see twenty-eight. Live fast, die young.”

She squeezed his hand. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Okay, all finished,” Butch said. “Take a look.”

While Rebekah admired her new tattoo in a full-length mirror, Eric helped Butch design the tattoo that would be inked on his lower belly. Butch’s assistant helped Rebekah put salve and plastic wrap over the new addition to her body, while explaining how to take care of the tattoo until it fully healed. By the time she snuggled against Eric’s back, her adrenaline rush was starting to wan and she was already thinking about where she wanted her next tattoo.

“When we first decided to do this, Eric said he was going to get my name tattooed on his penis,” Rebekah said. “Have you ever tattooed a guy’s penis before?”

“Yeah, more often than you’d think.”

Rebekah eyed Butch’s tattoos. Besides his face, and most of his fingers, there wasn’t an inch of undecorated skin on him.

She wondered…

“Before you ask,” Butch said with a chuckle, “no, my cock is not decorated. At least not with ink.” He laughed at Rebekah’s wideeyed expression.

“Pierced?” she squeaked.

“Multiple times.”

Ouch. She glanced at Eric, who turned pale. “Don’t even think it,” he said.

She was curious about what a cock piercing would look like, and feel like, but wouldn’t admit it in front of Butch. To distract herself, she peeked over Butch’s shoulder at the design he was sketching on thin paper. Eric was showing him where to put the last few musical notes. She noticed it wasn’t the same melody as hers. “I thought our tattoos were going to match,” she said.

“It’s a duet. I’ll teach you to play it with me on the piano.”

Awww, as if he hadn’t melted her heart enough times already that day.

Eric didn’t even flinch the entire time Butch etched Rebekah’s name into his flesh. When Butch worked on the outer edges, he even laughed.

“It tickles!” As Butch added the finishing touches, Rebekah leaned close to Eric’s ear and whispered, “I like my name there. I can’t wait to see it when you’re naked, with your cock all hard and thick beneath it. I wonder what it will look like when you’re buried inside me. Will I be able to read it when you’re balls deep or just on the out-stroke?”

“Oh my God, woman! Don’t turn me on when there’s a dude that close to my crotch,” Eric protested.

Butch chuckled. “Lots of people get sexually excited when they get a tattoo.”

“It’s her fault. She’s saying naughty things in my ear. Are you almost done?” Eric asked with an impatient sigh.

“Yeah, hold still.”

By the time they left The Ink Well, it was after dark. To prevent his waistband from irritating his new tattoo, Eric had to drive with his pants unfastened. This prompted Rebekah’s hand to wander into his lap frequently. She was so incredibly turned on by what they’d just shared that she couldn’t keep her hands off him.

“Who needs weddings when you can get a tattoo together?”

he said.

“Much more permanent than a few spoken words,” she agreed.

Her breath caught. “We could have our vows to each other tattooed on our bodies.”

He chuckled. “I’d love that. You know getting tattoos can become addictive. You don’t want to end up like Butch, do you?”

“No. I just want one more.” She slid her hand into his open pants again and stroked the silky skin of his hard shaft. “Maybe two.”

Eric pulled the car into the garage and shut off the engine. He didn’t even bother opening his car door, just scrambled out through the convertible top. He took Rebekah’s hand, but instead of following him into the house, she pressed him against the hood of the car.

“I can’t wait,” she said and unfastened her jeans. Shimmying them down her thighs, she pulled them off and kicked them aside.

He yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor.

Her bra followed. When she was naked, he filled his hands with her curves, wanting her, needing her, loving her so much he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to see it. The proof that she loved him. His name across her lower back. Symbolic of her commitment. Her devotion. She was his. Just as he was hers. Forever. He wondered if she had any idea how much that tattoo meant to him. He wanted to stare at it as he filled her.