Page 121 of Wish

Glancing around, I saw my discarded jeans. Tugging away from Max, I grabbed them, fishing around in the pocket.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I held up the hot-pink paint pen. Going back to him, I held it between us. “Here.”

Both his brows lifted. “I don’t want that.”

I argued, “Yes, you do.”

His stony stare met mine, and I smiled, uncapping the pen. “You want to draw on me too, Max? Maybe mark me up? Write your name right here on my skin?”

I saw the possessive flare in his eyes. But then he said, “I already marked you,” eyes drifting to the hickey.

I shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t offer.”

I started to toss the pen on the counter, but he snatched it from my fingers with a snarl. “Hold still.”

I suppressed a smile as he curled his hand around my hip and scrawled across my chest. When he was done, he grunted in satisfaction. When I looked in the mirror, I laughed. “Seriously?”

MINE.

“Guess you decided your name wasn’t enough,” I mused.

He rumbled, proud of himself.

Glancing at the marker, I picked it up. “You gonna let me mark you?”

“It’s pink,” he grumped.

“A little color won’t kill you,” I said.

He made a face like he smelled something bad.

“Please?”

He relented instantly, all his hard edges melting, softness shining in his eyes. “Of course you can, baby.”

Ahh, he gave me butterflies.

I stepped back, studying his body like a canvas.

He rolled his eyes. “Just do it already.”

I tsked. “I have to pick a place.”

“It’s going to wash off.” He reminded me irritably.

“Forget it, then,” I surmised, turning away.

He grabbed me by the back of the neck, pulling me in. “Do it.”

“Can I draw a heart?”

“No.”

“I didn’t want to anyway,” I muttered. “It’d probably melt off your skin.”

He laughed.

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