“That’s why we’ll do it in stages.”
She blew out a lengthy breath. “Stages?”
“You didn’t think he was going to do the entire sleeve in one day, did you?” Eric asked, leaning over Butch’s shoulder and shaking his head at her.
“I’m kind of new to this,” Rebekah said defensively. “You’re just having stuff added to the tattoos already on your arm, so don’t have as much to endure. I’m starting from scratch.”
“Blank canvas,” Butch said with a smile. “Soon to be a work of art. But it will take weeks to complete the entire thing. I don’t want you to black out in my chair.”
“Are you going to do all the outlines and words today?” Eric said, taking Rebekah’s hand and turning her arm so he could see the complex stencil covering her skin from shoulder to elbow. “The words she wrote about me.”
She’d put a lot of thought into the things she wanted included in the design and while the words were the focus of the piece, the surrounding objects all meant something to her. Butch had worked everything she’d requested into a design both cohesive and uniquely her. She loved it.
“That’s the plan,” Butch said. “You sure you want a Camaro to take up half of your upper arm? I’m a Mopar man myself.”
She grinned. “I’m sure. Chevy all the way!”
For their first car restoration, she and Eric had finished his ’68 Corvette together, and she’d thought about having the little green convertible tattooed on her arm, but he’d started restoring the ’Vette on his own. The Camaro had been the first project they’d done entirely together, and it had made them grow closer as friends and as a couple. That car meant a lot to her. It always would.
“I don’t think she’ll notice if I make this a Challenger or a Dart instead, do you?” Butch asked Eric, grasping her arm in one hand and using his other to dip his tattoo gun in black ink.
“She’d notice,” Eric said. “The woman knows her cars. It’s why I married her.”
“That’s why you married me?” Rebekah asked, glad Eric was there to distract her as the tattoo process began. The hum of the gun so close to her ear was a little unnerving. She focused on Eric’s bright blue eyes instead of the prickling sensation on her shoulder.
“One of the reasons,” he said, tapping the tip of her nose with his index finger. “You’re also adorable.”
“Glad you think so.” She remembered a time when his referring to her as adorable had pissed her off, but now she found it endearing.
Butch grinned at their exchange. “Never thought this guy would find his perfect match. If there’s someone in the world for Eric Sticks, there’s hope for all of us.”
“Hey!” Eric said, scowling. “That sounded like an insult.”
“Then again maybe Rebekah is just settling.” Butch shrugged and turned Rebekah’s arm slightly so he could continue the outline of a peacock feather around to the back. She peeked down at his progress and noticed he wasn’t tracing the entire stencil design with his tattoo needle, just hitting highlights. She figured he’d use varying colors on the rest of the feather to make it look more realistic. She might get through today’s session without fainting after all. Sweet.
“Settling?” Eric said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is that a fact?”
Rebekah grinned, knowing Butch was teasing Eric, but also knowing that Eric got his feelings hurt far more easily than he let on. “There’s nothing settling about you, baby,” she assured him. “You give me butterflies every time I look at you.”
Eric’s chin went up a notch.
“Are you sure it isn’t indigestion?” Butch turned her arm the other way.
She laughed and then sucked in a pained breath as the needle found a particularly sensitive nerve ending.
Eric shifted to stand at her side and took her free hand. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly, but was soon clinging to his fingers. “Ow.”
“There’s a lot of black on the words,” Butch said. “Do you need a break?”
“Keep going,” she said. Would the words mean more if they hurt like hell as they were made a permanent part of her skin?
The lettering was worked throughout the entire design: not just a string of neatly spaced words written on a ribbon. The unique set of characters blended seamlessly with the details of the artwork.
I am yours, dear Eric
heart, body, and soul.
Take all that I am
and make me more,
because with you at my side,
I am not only complete
but transcendent
As she sat there gritting her teeth in pain, Rebekah understood why people usually chose less verbose messages such as I ♥ Eric when wearing their hearts on their sleeve-tattoos.
Eric leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Watching you get tattooed is such a turn-on.”
“We’re just getting started,” Rebekah said.
“I know,” he said. “I probably should have gone first this time. You’re so fucking hot.”
“Eric.” She shook her head at him. “Do you really find everything erotic?”
“When it comes to you.”
Eric nibbled her earlobe, and pleasure snaked down her neck and the arm not experiencing pain. She shuddered as her brain somehow began to associate the needle with sexual stimulation.
“Hey, don’t move,” Butch warned.
“Sorry,” Rebekah said, and then pressed a hand against Eric’s chest. “You’re going to have to sit over there.” She nodded to a nearby chair. “Now is not the time to get me all hot and bothered.”
“Couldn’t agree with you less,” Eric said in her ear, but he drew away, the back of his fingers brushing the suddenly erect tip of her nipple. She squirmed when her pussy swelled with sudden—and completely inappropriate—longing.
Having him sit several feet away did nothing to cool her sudden lust. He was watching her the same way he watched her when she masturbated for him. As if she were his sex goddess and he worshiped every inch of her from afar. As if watching her get off was far more exciting than getting off himself. Now every time the needle scraped her skin, she could feel it in her clit—a tiny zap of intense pleasure pulsing just beneath the surface. Within moments she was covered in a sheen of perspiration.
“You doing okay?” Butch said. “You’re sweating.”
“Don’t stop,” she said, drawing a wicked smile from her naughty husband.
“Ever had a woman climax in your chair, Butch?” Eric asked.
“A few times. Usually when I’m working on an upper thigh.”
“How about when you’re tattooing vows on a woman’s arm?”
Butch paused in his work and looked at Rebekah, who felt the heat of embarrassment rise up her throat.
“Are you turned on by this?” he asked her.
“I wasn’t,” Rebekah said. “But the way he’s watching me…” She scowled at Eric, but she didn’t want him to stop looking at her like that. She wanted him to always look at her like he could devour her at any moment.
“I’ll make him leave if he’s bothering you,” Butch said.
Rebekah shook her head. “I need him here.”
No man had ever stared at her the way Eric did, and now she was addicted to it. To him. To the way he made her feel and how he made her laugh. She loved knowing that he was there for her and trusted that he always would be.
When the needle began to scrape out a design near her elbow, she felt the tiny pain as pleasure in the tips of her breasts. God, she wished she was alone with her husband so she could go topless. She wanted to tear her shirt open and expose her aching tits to Eric so he could see how hard her nipples were, see how much she needed him to touch them, to suck them.
His gaze locked with hers, Eric licked his lips as if he could read her thoughts. She bit her bottom lip so she wouldn’t moan aloud.
The needle moved to her forearm, which gave her a moment to co
llect her thoughts, but when the tip scraped over the tender inner surface of her lower arm, her belly quivered. The closer the ink gun moved to her wrist, the tighter her belly clenched, until an unbearable ache began to build deep in her pussy.