Page 33 of Watch Me

Then I liked it a lot and didn’t want him to stop, I wanted to say. Instead, we grinned at each other over our forks and kept eating in companionable silence. Finishing first, I took my plate to the sink to wash.

“How does this tattoo thing work? You don’t need to be in a sterilized shop?” Fin asked, and I turned to find him tracing a finger along the zipper of my kit.

“Keeping everything clean is very important,” I conceded, moving to open the black container so he could see there were bags with sealed needles and gloves inside. “But I’m not licensed. So it doesn’t matter where I do it.”

“Are you saying you do illegal things?” Fin asked in a mock imitation of my scandalized tone from before.

We both chuckled at his words, since a lot of what we did for the club and pack weren’t legal. “I may not have the fancy piece of paper to frame and put on the wall, but I have a lot of practice.”

Fin looked at my arms, where most of the ink was what I’d done on myself. “You ever tattooed other people?”

“Of course. Or are you offering up your virgin skin for me?” I chuckled but also eyed his bare chest. I could see how I would mark him clearly, as if the ink was already on his skin.

“That’s an idea.”

“What?” I scrunched my brow and waited for Fin to look at me. “Are you serious? Because I know exactly what I’d put on you.”

“Don’t you need a design printed out or something?”

“Naw, I freehand mine,” I told him, and watched as Fin stood to walk around the counter.

He ran a finger from the geometric design at my right wrist that faded into trees before moving to the watercolors on my bicep. “You did all of these?”

“I’m left-handed, so that side was easier.”

“And what would you tattoo on me, Ricky?” Fin moved his finger to my chin and I shivered at his intense gaze.

“A wolf,” I said without hesitation and then cleared my throat. “Black ink on your pec, from our club logo.”

Fin looked less like I was saying something off the wall, and more like he was considering it. “And it doesn’t just heal and fade fast?”

“Not if you don’t shift for about a week. It’s an open wound for about seven days for us.”

“Alright,” Fin said simply and stepped back.

“Alright, as in cool info bro? Or alright, you want me to tattoo you someday?”

“Why not now?”

Was he serious? His expression and even heartbeat read as calm and collected without a hint of teasing or fear. This sexy man really trusted me to permanently mark him.

“If you don’t like it, just shift right away and there’s barely a mark. Ask me how I know?” I laughed to myself at the memory. “Go sit back on the stool.”

“Tell me about it?” Fin asked as he took his seat. I explained that I got an expensive thigh piece when I was first making money from fights. “You have a thigh tattoo now.”

“Yeah, that’s when I learned how to do it myself, to cover up the fact I shifted two days later and lost most of the ink.” I wiped off the counter and put cling-film down for Fin to rest his arm on. Standing between his thighs, I reached for the still-packaged razor. “I’m thinking about the left side of your upper chest.”

“Go for it,” Fin gestured with permission and leaned back in the chair. I was glad it had a back, because this might take a while.

Shaving him felt more intimate than when I’d done it for friends, and I felt my breath quickening. Fin rested hisfree hand on my hip and that didn’t help matters. “Don’t distract me.”

He chuckled but didn’t grope me any more. After snapping on nitrile gloves, I traced the outline of the wolf from our club logo with a skin marker, as I used the patch on his jacket hanging by the door for reference.

“Can you see if you like the placement and size?” I asked as I poured black ink into a cup.

Instead of looking, he kept his eyes on me. “Surprise me.”

Fuck. Fin was letting me mark him as mine in a way I loved. Taking a deep breath, I turned my cordless tattoo gun on and hovered it over his skin. The moment felt important. I didn’t need hearts and roses. The trust he was putting in me spoke volumes without Fin saying a word.