Page 88 of Goodbye Note

I lifted a brow, suddenly feeling the closeness of his body and the heat between us. Arousal stirred inside me, and I didn’t understand it. “I don’t know.” My voice caught.

He leaned in, skimming his nose along my jaw and the curve of my ear. “I’ll let you write on me, but you must hurry so we have time.”

“Are you offering your flesh?” I rubbed my cheek against his mouth, stubble catching on his lips.

“I am,” he hissed. “Will that be enough?”

“Anything I want?”

“When have I ever denied you?” His words strung me up. Wrapped around me and tied me to him.

“There is always a first time for everything, my dear.” It came out before I could stop it.

“My dear?”

“Do you not like it?” I chewed my lip, all but pulling back to examine his face for reassurance.

“Say it again.” He pulled back but only to press his forehead to mine.

“My dear.” The words were out before I could overthink them.

“I love it.”

I could breathe, and I wanted to kiss him, but I stopped myself because I had to figure out what all this meant first. “We should get up so I don’t miss the chance to write on you.”

His jaw flexed with words he held back, but he finally said, “Do not think for a second I will forget to ask again later.”

I knew what he referred to, which meant I had to find an answer not only for him, but for myself.

TWENTY-SIX

VARIAN

He wrote ‘My dear’ under the words already below my collarbones, and it changed my brain chemistry. I thought about it through our entire set, through each time our eyes met. It seared into my skin when he climbed in next to me in the cab, when he didn’t scoot into the other seat, leaving our thighs and shoulders pressed.

“Which one of you first?” The tattoo artist looked between us, and I thought I saw a flicker of recognition there, but he didn’t say more.

“Me,” I said, having made up my mind on the ride over. “I already have what I want ready to go.” I tugged off my shirt. “Can you go over this? Exactly like it is?”

Arik’s gaze burned into the side of my face, but I didn’t look at him. I kept my attention on the artist.

He stepped closer, inspecting the writing. “Easy enough. Let’s go get you prepared.”

I laid out on his table and Arik stood over us, not saying a word as the artist cleaned the area and shaved the bit of hair there. I finally met his eyes. Arik smiled and shook his head.

I tilted my head, mouthing, “Like it?” when the artist turned his back to grab ink.

“Yes,” he whispered, his face telling me more than the word.

The ink was quick, and I looked into Arik’s eyes the entire time. Neither one of us looked away, and it felt the most loved and accepted I’d ever been.

The artist taped cling wrap over my tattoo and then turned to Arik. “What are we doing for you?”

Arik pulled a picture of black dots out of his back pocket. I knew what it was immediately. But how?

“I want this on my chest. Over my heart.” He handed it over.

He took it and studied it. “Sure. Let me get a look at the area.”

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