Wicked Beat

Chapter 30

Rebekah took a deep breath and knocked on Isaac’s apartment door. She knew she probably shouldn’t show up unannounced. He might not even be home. She wanted to clear the air between them now. She didn’t want anything to weigh on her thoughts while she was having dinner with Eric. Or while they picked out her engagement ring.

A minute later the door swung open, and Trey Mills stood in the doorway in nothing but a pair of black satin boxer shorts. “Hey, Rebekah,” he said with a devilish grin. “What brings you here?”

“Uh…” Why was Trey in Isaac’s apartment? Maybe they’d hit it off after she and Eric had left the evening before. Okay. That made sense. But why was he almost naked? “Is… is I-Isaac h-here?”

“Yeah, he’s here. Why don’t you come in?”

Trey stepped to the side, and Rebekah entered the apartment.

She could smell dinner cooking. Garlic, oregano, parmesan. Isaac had always been an excellent cook. Italian cuisine was only one of his specialties. Trey shut the door behind her and pressed a hand to the small of her back.

“Don’t be too hard on him, okay?” he said quietly. “He’s happy, but scared.”

“About what?”

“I’ll let him tell you.”

Isaac stepped out of the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel.

He was wearing gray lounge pants, but was shirtless and barefoot.

“I was thinking,” he said, a huge smile on his face, “maybe I should get my tongue pier—” He noticed Rebekah, and his smile faded. He dropped the towel around his shoulders.

They stared at each other wide-eyed for what seemed like hours.

“Isaac,” she said finally. “What’s going on?”

Isaac’s eyes flicked to Trey. He looked like a caged animal ready to dart as soon as a break presented itself. “What did you tell her?”

Trey shook his head. “Nothing.”

“We need to talk,” Rebekah said.

Isaac nodded. He turned and went back into his room. She didn’t really want to go into his bedroom, but she supposed since Trey was there, they needed someplace private to have their falling out.

Rebekah entered his room and closed the door. The lamp on the bedside table glowed softly. She couldn’t help but notice the empty condom wrappers. So he claimed to love her but had slept with some other woman? Not that she cared. It just added to her confusion about how Isaac had been treating her lately.

His back was to her. His head hung low. He was obviously feeling guilty about something.

“I know what you did to my cell phone,” she said.

“I’m gay,” he blurted.

The words registered, but the implications behind his statement were difficult to grasp. “You’re… what?”

“Gay. Homosexual.”

She blinked and shook her head slightly. “You’re… what?”

she repeated.

“I like guys, okay?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m gay. Is it that hard for you to understand?”

Yes, it was that hard for her to understand. They’d been in love.

Engaged. Had sex. Granted, it had been passionless, sorta icky sex, but it had been sex. Infrequent. Lights off. Boring. Tedious sex. But it had been sex, by God.

Isaac’s gay.

The reality struck her so hard that she laughed. “You’re gay?”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze.

Her eyes darted to the empty wrappers on the bedside table.

“You had sex with Trey?”

He flushed and did this cute eye-rolling thing that not only told her he had done it with Trey, but it had been phenomenal. Not icky.

Not boring. Not tedious. It had been full of passion. And the lights had definitely been on.

“I need to sit down,” Rebekah said. She sat on the edge of his bed and breathed through her lightheadedness.

He sat beside her. After a moment, he took her hand and gripped it in both of his. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For trying to come between you and Eric. I know you love him, but I needed you to marry me.”

“I’d like to say I understand, Isaac, but I honestly don’t.”

“I need a wife,” he said. “For appearance’s sake. You know my father will disown me if he finds out I’m gay. I might as well kiss the family practice good-bye. You and I get along so well. You can’t have kids anyway, so no one would be suspicious if we adopt. It just makes sense that we stay together.”

“So I’m supposed to give up my chance at happiness so you can pretend to be something you’re not.”

He ran a hand over his face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I love you, Rebekah. I do. I always have. I’d be a great husband.

Treat you well. Take care of you forever. Give you anything you could ever want or need. It’s just the thought of having sex with you makes me physically ill.”

As if she could forget how unattractive he’d made her feel. “But that’s not because I’m not sexy or because my body feels weird inside, it’s because…” For the first time, she realized she wasn’t the one with the problem. It never had been. She jerked her hand out of his and jumped to her feet to glare at him. “How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?”

“Make me feel so sexually unappealing! Talk about a major mind fuck, Isaac. If it weren’t for Eric, I’d still think I had nothing to offer a man in the bedroom. I thought there was something wrong with me. That my body was disgusting.”

“I thought there must be something wrong with you. I wanted to be attracted to you, Rebekah. I just… wasn’t. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t force myself to have sex with you after the surgery. I tried.

Mentally, I had convinced myself that I needed to. Physically? I couldn’t even maintain an erection. I really did think it was because of your surgery.”

“It never occurred to you that I wasn’t the problem?”

“Did that occur to you?” he asked.

She lowered her eyes. “Well, no, actually. You’ve always been so… so… well, perfect.”

“That’s a pretty hard label to live up to.”

The turmoil in his eyes made her cringe. She wasn’t even mad at him anymore. She emitted a loud sigh. “You must be struggling to come to terms with this. When did you realize?”

“Last night.”

“Thank you for confiding in me. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” She sat beside him again and wrapped an arm around his back. He leaned against her for support, and they sat there for a long while, silently offering strength to one another. He’d done this so many times when she’d been sick. Just offered his presence so she never felt alone. She was happy to offer him this bit of comfort in return.

“Rebekah?” he said quietly. “I need to ask you a favor. Will you do something for me?”

She stroked the loose waves from his forehead with one hand.

“Of course.”

“My father is having a big dinner party next week. All the physicians from the clinic will be there. The entire staff too. He didn’t say specifically, but I think he’s going to ask me to join the practice full time. In front of everyone.” He took her hand and clung to it. “I was hoping… would you go with me? We could pretend…”

“Isaac…”

“We could pretend that we’re still a couple, and then after he makes the announcement, I’ll tell him about…” He took a deep shuddering breath. “I need time to come to terms with this, and if you’re there, I won’t get all the regular questions.”

“The regular questions?”

“When are you going to settle down, son? Are you ever going to get married? I already had two kids by the time I was your age.

Don’t you think you need to start having a family?” he said in a pretty good impression of his father’s deep voice. “You know. The regular questions.”

She understood exactly where he was coming from, and she was tempted to say yes, but she wasn’t sure how Eric would feel about her pretending to be Isaac’s woman. Even if it was only for one evening.

“I have to ask Eric,” she said.

Isaac cringed. “He hates me. He’ll never go for it.”

“You have been acting like an ass lately,” she said. “Can you blame him for not understanding how we can be friends?”

“Sorry.”

She kissed his temple. “I forgive you. This time.”

“You’re good to me, Reb. Sometimes I wish… Sometimes I wish you were a guy,” he said.

Rebekah laughed. “I’ve always been sort of a tomboy. Maybe that’s why you thought you loved me.” She glanced at the clock radio beside the bed and her heart sank. “Oh crap, I was supposed to meet Eric an hour ago. He’s probably worried.”

She pulled out her phone and found that it was turned off. She tried to turn it on, but the battery was dead. “Shit. He’s probably been trying to call me. Can I use your phone?”

“Of course.”

She climbed to her feet and kissed him on the temple. “I’m here for you, you know. Just like you were there for me when I needed you during my treatments.”

He groaned and fell back on his bed. “Stop being so nice to me.

You’re making me feel like a complete jerk.”

She chuckled. “Good. Maybe you’ll remember that the next time you act like a selfish asshole.”

He chuckled. “When did you become so blunt?”

“Recently. And I like it.”

She let herself out of the bedroom and went into the kitchen to use the phone. Trey was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar still in nothing but his boxer shorts. He was fiddling with his smart phone.

He looked up and grinned. “Did he tell you?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Good.”

“Are you going to break his heart?” Rebekah asked.

“Who, me?” His look of innocence wasn’t fooling her.

“Let him down easy.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Trey assured her.

Rebekah dialed Eric’s number and hoped he’d answer. He probably wouldn’t like seeing Isaac’s number on his caller ID. He answered after several rings. “Is Rebekah okay?” he asked breathlessly.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. I’m getting ready to leave now. I’ll tell you what’s going on when I get to the restaurant. Are you still waiting there?”

“Yeah. I think I’ve eaten twenty or thirty complimentary breadsticks. I tried to call. You didn’t answer.”

“My battery is dead. Go ahead and order for us both. I’ll hurry.”

Rebekah gasped when Trey cuddled against her back. “Come on back to bed, Rebekah,” he said near her ear and phone receiver.

“Isaac and I aren’t finished with you yet.”

Rebekah elbowed him in the stomach, and he chuckled.

“Is that Trey?” Eric asked.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s funny.”

“There’s nothing funny about how hot you look in this deep sea diver getup,” Trey said, making sure Eric would hear. His bangs tickled her cheek as he leaned close to the receiver. She giggled.

“Have you seen the oxygen tank and flippers on this woman?” he continued. “Lord have mercy. Hot.”

“What is he talking about?” Eric asked.

“He’s just teasing,” Rebekah assured him.

“Isaac, hand me the snorkel. I’m going down,” Trey said. “I won’t be coming up for air for a while.” Isaac leaned against the opposite side of the counter and quirked an eyebrow at Trey.

Rebekah snorted as she tried not to laugh. “Stop it, Trey.”

“Yeah, stop it, Trey.” Eric sounded out of sorts. “Why are you at Isaac’s house? And what is Trey doing there?”

“I’ll explain as soon as I get to the restaurant.”

“It will probably be at least another hour, Sticks,” Trey said and made obnoxious kissing noises against the back of Rebekah’s neck.

Shoulders scrunched, she laughed again and slapped Trey until he finally backed off. She lost her train of thought when Trey leaned over the counter, holding Isaac’s gaze in a sensual stare and kissed him tenderly. The only thing Rebekah could do was gape, heart thudding with… She couldn’t identify the feeling exactly. Curiosity?

Excitement? She wasn’t sure, but she kind of liked watching them kiss.

“Rebekah?” Eric said into her ear, drawing her attention away from the way-too-hot guys totally trying to out-kiss each other at the moment.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she promised. “Love you.”

“Me too,” Eric whispered and disconnected.

She hated to interrupt the festivities. It was interesting to see how passionate Isaac could be when he was actually turned on. He’d never kissed her the way he was kissing Trey. Um… “Isaac, I’ll call you tomorrow about the party after I talk to Eric.”

He peeled his lips off Trey’s and said, “Thanks, angel. I appreciate it.”

“Party?” Trey said. “What party?”

“You wouldn’t be interested,” Isaac assured him, eyes wide with what Rebekah could only construe as abject horror.

“I’m always interested in a party,” Trey said.

“No,” Isaac said emphatically.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Rebekah said.

Trey grabbed her and hugged her. “Thanks for introducing me to your ex-boyfriend,” Trey murmured into her ear so Isaac couldn’t hear. “He’s way fun to fuck with. Mmm, and fuck.”

Poor Isaac. He had no idea who he’d gotten himself tangled up with here.

Trey released her and offered a lopsided, ornery grin. He winked.

Rebekah’s heart skipped a beat. On second thought. Lucky Isaac. He had no idea who he’d gotten himself tangled up with here.

“You should totally mess with Eric when you see him. Make him think you were doing something with me and Isaac. It will drive him insane.”

She shook her head. “No way. We’re still in the making-up phase.”

“He wouldn’t hesitate to do it to you, you know.”

Probably true, but she’d already kept him waiting for over an hour and needed to put the poor guy out of his misery. “Bye, Isaac.”

She waved at Trey and let herself out of the apartment.

By the time she arrived at the restaurant, guilt was eating her alive. The scowl on Eric’s handsome face didn’t make her feel better.

She kissed his cheek and slid into the chair across from him. Her salad was already waiting. He’d finished his.

“I’m really sorry I’m so late.”

“I think you have some explaining to do.”

She stuffed a bite of salad in her mouth and held up one finger while she chewed and swallowed. “I went to Isaac’s apartment to confront him about his behavior—reprogramming my phone for one thing—and Trey answered his door. I never did get to tell Isaac off properly. He told me… He told me that he’s—” she lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned across the table, “—gay.”

Eric didn’t look the tiniest bit surprised. “And that makes everything he did okay?”

She had sort of let him off the hook as soon as he’d confided.

“It’s hard for him. His father will never accept this.”

“Like your mother will never accept me.”

Rebekah lowered her eyes. “It’s different.”

“I talked to her on the phone when you didn’t answer your cell.

She was spouting Bible verses at me.”

“Let me guess, the story of Isaac and Rebekah.” She stuffed more salad in her mouth and watched him fidget with the stem of his wineglass.

“Yeah, actually.”

“Did she tell you the reason I got cancer is because I make bad decisions, and God is punishing me?”

“She said that to you?”

She nodded and closed her eyes to hold in emotions suddenly overwhelming her.

Eric reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “She told me she promised God that you would marry Isaac. Otherwise, she seems to think more horrible shit is going to happen to you and Dave.”

Rebekah sighed. “We thought she was better.”

“Better?”

“Yeah, she had a mental breakdown when I was going through chemo. That’s one reason why I depended on Isaac so much. After my treatments, she seemed to recover. I guess the stress is getting to her again. I’ll talk to Dad about it.”

Their entrees arrived before Rebekah had finished her salad. She was grateful Eric had ordered for her. That meant they could get out of here sooner. “Are you sure you want to marry me?” she asked him.

“I’ve got a lot of baggage.”

“It makes you more interesting.”

She laughed. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“We could do what Brian and Myrna did and skip the engagement.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t know. I never thought much about getting married until a couple months ago, when Sinners started falling like dominoes. I figured I’d be the last one standing.”

“Technically, Brian is the only one who’s married. You could be the second to fall if you want.” She winked.

“Don’t you want the huge ceremony and the big dress and the pile of Crock-Pots?”

“You mean crackpots.”

“Crackpots?”

“Otherwise known as my crazy family.”

He laughed and some of the tension drained from his body.

Apparently, her mother got under his skin too. Another thing they had in common. “I’ll do whatever you want, Reb. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re missing out on anything.”

“I want to do something unusual,” she said, her heart thudding with excitement.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet. Let me think about it. We’ll brainstorm.

Come up with something really fun and unique.”

He grinned. “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why you’re going to let me pretend to be Isaac’s girlfriend at a party next week.” She was picking up on Eric’s uncanny ability to change the subject without missing a beat.

“What?”

“No matter when we decide to get married, I still want the engagement ring. So don’t think you’re getting out of that,” she said, trying to keep him unbalanced. “Hurry up and eat.”

“What party, Rebekah? I thought Isaac was gay. Why would he—”

“Pretend,” she said. “It’s just a favor. Nothing more. He’s not ready to come out publicly yet.”

“But—”

“Let’s play cops and robbers when we get home. You can pretend I’m a jewel thief and handcuff me. Show me your long arm of the law until I confess to crimes I never committed.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

She laughed. “Disorienting, isn’t it? Do you have handcuffs at home, or do we need to stop by Bonds-R-Us?”

He dropped his fork and grinned. “It’s definitely time for another pit stop. Maybe we’ll pick up a deep sea diver outfit for you to wear.”

He nonchalantly took a sip of water, while he watched her closely.

She contemplated the idea, knowing he was trying to find out what she, Trey, and Isaac had really been doing in Isaac’s apartment.

After a moment, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to catch crabs.”

Eric laughed and sucked water down his windpipe. He was choking so hard, Rebekah stood to whack him on the back.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded, still choking. “Jeez, woman,” he gasped between coughs. “I’m the one who’s supposed to crack all the stupid jokes.”

“Sorry. I’ll try to come up with smarter jokes from now on. The stupid ones are all yours.”

“This is why we work,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Compromise.”

“I thought it was the great sex.”

Her flippant comment elicited several stares from nearby tables.

“Well, there’s that too,” Eric said.

After dinner, they walked across the parking lot to the mall.

They found the jewelry store, but when they arrived the metal gate was down, and the lights were off.

Rebekah’s heart sank with disappointment. “Closed? How can it be closed? What time is it?”

“It’s after eight,” Eric said.

“Why is it so late?”

Eric lifted his eyebrows.

She made a sound of annoyance. “Of all the days for Isaac to come out of the closet.” She gazed into a display window with longing. Not because she really wanted a ring, but because she wanted the world to see proof that she’d given her heart to Eric.

“These are all too girly anyway,” she said, trying to make herself feel better about having to wait at least another day.

Eric chuckled and wrapped an arm around her back to direct her to the parking lot again.

“There’s probably someplace still open that’s more suitable to brand you as mine,” he whispered into her ear.

“Yeah, a tattoo parlor,” she said with an unladylike snort.

Once the idea took hold, she grew excited. “Eric!” She grabbed his forearm and stopped walking abruptly. “I want your name as my tramp stamp.” She lifted the back of her shirt and pointed to her lower back. “Right there. Your name and music notes on either side.

Maybe some little butterflies.”

“Are you serious, Reb? That’s permanent, you know.”

“I know. You don’t want me to?” She traced a tattoo on his forearm with one finger. It showed a dagger through a skull. It was a beautiful piece of art, but masculine. “Would you rather I get one that matches yours?”

“I would love my name permanently etched on your sexy little back. I could stare at it while…” He lifted her shirt and took a peek at the area in question. “Damn…” he said breathlessly and gave himself a little shake. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He scooped her into his arms, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed toward his car.

“Right now?”

“Yep. And I’m going to get your name tattooed down the length of my cock.”

“You are not!”

“Yeah, I am.”

She wondered if her name would get bigger when he was hard.

She wondered about something else. “How long does it take for a tattoo to heal?”

“Several weeks.”

“Then you won’t be able to have sex for several weeks.”

“You’re right. Forget that then. Where do you want your name?”

She thought for a moment. What was the sexiest part of Eric’s body, besides his cock? That sweet V-shape at his lower belly that disappeared into the waistband of his underwear. That’s where she wanted her name. Then when he held her back against his belly, their names would press together.

“Put me down,” she said. “Let me show you where I want it.”

He gently set her on her feet, and she lifted his T-shirt in front.

She pushed the waistband of his jeans lower and traced a swath of bare skin above his underwear. “I want it right here.”

He drew a breath through his teeth. “That is going to hurt.”

“More than it would on your cock?”

He chuckled. “Good point.” He hurried her to the car and opened the door for her. “I know a great artist. He’s done all my ink and the smiley-faced flower on the top of Jace’s foot.”

“Jace has a flower on his foot?”

“Yeah, I got him really drunk. Let’s just say his judgment was impaired. Usually, they won’t tattoo someone when they’re that inebriated, but I’ve known Butch for years. And Jace said it was okay before he passed out. We both got our nipples pierced that night too.”

“Kind of like when girls get their nails done together.”

He looked grievously offended by that comparison. “Uh, no.”

She laughed. “If you say so.”

Eric headed out of the parking lot and drove toward the coast.

“As excited as I was to get you a ring, I’m even more excited by the thought of my name tattooed on your skin.”

She smiled. “Me too. My mother is going to hate it.”

Eric’s face fell. “Is that what this is about? Revenge on your mother?”

“Of course not.”

The tattoo parlor was in a quaint strip of old stores a few blocks from the ocean. A cool breeze blew onshore. Rebekah wished she’d brought a sweater. Eric fed a parking meter with quarters while Rebekah waited. He grabbed her hand and led her into The Ink Well—a shady establishment at best. A man, tattooed from neck to toe, looked up from the tattoo he was inking on some guy’s chest.

“Yo, Sticks. Back for more?” the artist called.

“You know I can’t get enough.”

“Who’s the pretty lady?”

“My girlfriend, em…” He glanced at Rebekah. “Fiancée? Can I call you that?” he whispered.

“Do you see a ring on this finger?” She shook her bare, left hand in front of his face.

He sighed. “Still my girlfriend,” he said. “She wants my name tattooed…” He turned her around and lifted her shirt, running a finger along her lower back. “… right there.” He then rubbed his lower belly.

“And I want hers right here. Can you squeeze us in right now?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done here.” Butch dabbed the guy’s chest with a towel, removing dots of something red from his skin.

Rebekah winced when she realized the guy under the needle was bleeding.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered to Eric.

“Yeah. In a strange way, it feels good too. Like, you know that itch you can never scratch enough? This scratches it. Do you want me to go first?”

She shook her head. “If I wait, I might chicken out.”

“You’re sure you want this done?”

She looked at him, her heart fluttery with emotions. “Yeah.”

When it was Rebekah’s turn to go under the needle, she explained her vision to the artist, Butch.

“Just his first name? Or first and last?” Butch asked.

“Just Eric in fancy lettering. And maybe a music staff and music notes on either end to bracket it, and tiny, multicolored butterflies above it to make it look feminine.”

Butch nodded, obviously picturing what she wanted in his mind.

“I’ll draw up a stencil real quick. See if I can capture what you want.

Then we can make adjustments before we make it permanent.”

Rebekah’s tummy fluttered as if she’d swallowed a few of those feminine little butterflies. “Okay,” she croaked.

“I’m going to help him,” Eric said. He handed her a book that had photos of the tattoos Butch had done. “Keep yourself occupied.”

Nervous, she looked through the pages. Butch really was a talented artist. She could tell she was in good hands. Some portraits he’d inked on people looked so real it was as if she were looking at a photograph taped to their skin. Ten minutes later, Butch and Eric returned.

The stenciled drawing he showed her stole her breath. It was perfect! She imagined brides must feel that way when they tried on the wedding dress they were destined to wear for one special day.

She was trying on a piece of artwork she would wear for the rest of her life.

“Oh… I love it!” She waved at the tears suddenly in her eyes.

She was making a lifelong commitment to this piece of art and the man it represented. Or all the guys named Eric in the world.

Eric ran his finger along the notes drawn on the wavy music staff that tapered into pointed curls on either side of his name. “I’ll play this for you when we get home,” he said.

“Did you write me a real song? I thought it was just for looks.”

“Just a little melody.” He brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned close to whisper, “It means I love you.”

She turned her head to capture his lips in a lingering kiss. “I’m so gonna rock your world when we get home, baby.”

“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.

He turned her to face the car, and she bent forward without hesitation. His breath caught. She looked so beautiful leaning over the hood of his treasured car. Her skin caught the low light coming from the fixture near the door. The soft globes of her ass were presented invitingly. Unfortunately, his name was scarcely legible beneath the plastic wrap covering her tattoo. He gently peeled the wrap away so he could see it more clearly and carefully stroked the skin above and below the design. He wanted to kiss it, lick it, bite it, remind her that it was there, but he knew it would be tender for a while. He’d wait until it healed before he showed too much enthusiasm.

Hands splayed on the hood of his car, she rocked backward and squirmed against his thighs impatiently. He shed his clothes and then spread his legs so he could sink low enough to possess her.

When he sank into her hot body, they shuddered in unison.

“God,” she gasped. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this hot for you.”

He was so turned on, he couldn’t even speak his agreement.

He held onto her hips and began to thrust into her. He watched his cock slide in and out of her silky depths, the name across her lower back never out of his peripheral vision. She rocked back to meet him, encouraging him to thrust harder. Deeper. His balls slapped against her mound with each stroke, contributing to the ache, the need for release.

“Oh,” Rebekah gasped. “Eric!” Her back arched, and her pussy clenched around him as she cried out. Eric gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to follow her over the edge. He didn’t want it to end. Never wanted his time with her to end. He bent over her and kissed the center of her back tenderly, thrusting gently until her quaking body relaxed.

“Let’s go inside,” he whispered. “I want you to see it.”

She looked over her shoulder. “See what?”

“Your name.”

Her smile made his breath catch. He pulled out and took her hand, hurrying into the house and upstairs to his bedroom. He turned the lights on and laid on his back on the bed. He pulled the wrap covering his tattoo free and waited for her to join him. She crawled onto the bed beside him. Stroking his skin lightly, she trailed tender kisses along his lower belly.

“I never knew my name was so sexy,” she murmured. “Must be the surrounding view.” She ran a finger down the length of his cock and he shuddered.

Rebekah straddled his hips and took him inside her. Just as he had been, she seemed fascinated by the look of her name on her lover’s skin. Her tiny hands pressed against his belly as she rode him, looking down where the action occurred, obviously enamored by his new tattoo.

He let her possess him, consume him, gave himself to her until he was convinced they weren’t separate people any longer. When he knew he couldn’t hold his release for another second, he reached between their bodies to rub her clit so they could let go together.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her mouth dropped open. Her body arched back in abandon.

He followed her this time, spasms of pleasure gripping him so hard, so deep, that his vision blurred and he had to cling to the comforter with both hands to keep himself grounded.

She collapsed on top of him, breathing hard. He eventually found the strength to lift his hand and cradle her head against his chest.

“Wow,” she gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me getting a tattoo was so fucking sexy?”

“It usually isn’t.” And now that her full weight was on him, the only thing registering in his new tattoo was stinging pain, like that of a bad sunburn. He carefully shifted her onto the bed beside him and then cuddled against her back. Their names were pressed against each other. Even though it was mildly uncomfortable, he liked the reminder that no matter where she happened to be, her name would always be a part of him, and his would be a part of her.