Author: Olivia Cunning

“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 wide-eyed 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.

Chapter 31

The next morning Rebekah woke alone. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor beside the bed. Apparently, Eric had retrieved them from the garage. She applied more salve to her tattoo before slipping into her clothes and going in search of the man who consumed her thoughts, her heart, her body, her soul.

She didn’t find him with his musical instruments or in the kitchen or in front of the TV. He wasn’t on the porch swing or in the garage. Neither was his car. He’d deserted her without letting her know where he was going. And because her car was still at the restaurant where she’d met him the night before, she was pretty much trapped. The Camaro wasn’t even close to running yet.

She returned to the kitchen and found a pot of coffee waiting. Under a clean mug, she found a note.

I’ll be back soon. Make yourself at home. Eric

She still didn’t know where he’d gone, but she was feeling a little less abandoned. At least he’d thought to leave her a note and make her coffee. She gulped a mug of black java and started thinking of all the things she wanted to do for his birthday. She was determined to make it the most special day of his life. Bored and more than a little lonely, she eventually went to the garage to tinker with the Camaro. The sooner she got it running, the sooner she could drive it. She was quite a mess by the time Eric returned a couple hours later. He climbed out of the car with a huge smile.

“You’ve got grease all over your face,” he told her, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

She had her hand deep in the engine compartment, tightening a bolt. He eased her T-shirt up and kissed her lower back inches above her new tattoo. “How does it feel?”

“A little sore. But not bad. Yours?”

“It’s a constant reminder of you.”

She grinned and stood upright to kiss the cleft in his chin. “Then it’s perfect. So where have you been all morning?”

He reached into his vest and retrieved a thick piece of paper from the inside of his vest. “I had this printed up,” he said and showed her a short music score. It only had two lines of music. One line was labeled as his and the other as hers.

“Is that from our tattoos?” she asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go play it together.”

She lifted her greasy hands. “I’m a mess.”

“It’ll wash.” He peeked into the open engine compartment. “Any hope for the Camaro?”

She smiled, bouncing on her heels with excitement. “Yeah. I think it should start now. I switched the plugs, the distributer, and the carburetor. You should have seen the muck in the old one. I think a squirrel died in it or something.”

He laughed and opened the creaky driver’s side door for her. She climbed behind the wheel. Anticipation killing her, Rebekah pumped the gas pedal twice and turned the key. Though it started, the engine was a bit hesitant from sitting idle so long. Once it got going, it ran strong and loud, with a few knocks and pings beneath the rumble, but it probably just needed to run. Rebekah gunned the gas pedal, and the car emitted a satisfying vroom.