“Fuck off, Marcum,” Max grumbles, though there’s no anger in his voice.
“No respect. Boy has no respect for his elders,” Marcum says laughing and closing the door.
Max leans against the closed door, looking like the cocky sex god that he is. I love that look on him. I love that smile on him. It makes me proud. I give him that. Me. I know Max doesn’t love me. He’s as much as confessed that, but he did say that he cares for me. I bring him something, even if I’m not sure what it is. I do that. From being with Max and everything I’ve read, that’s never happened. That’s enough for me—more than really.
“Are you ready, Kitten?”
“For what?” I ask, but the look in his eyes, combined with his smile, makes my insides heat up, and it’s a struggle not to scream, yes! Jesus, I’d do anything this man wanted just to keep getting those looks.
“I’m branding you today.”
“Uh…Mad Max, I love you and all, but I am not a side of beef.”
“I don’t know; you’re juicy, and I do like to eat you…”
“You’re such a romantic Max. Be still my beating heart.”
“Keep it up and I’ll beat you,” he jokes, throwing my covers back and gathering me in his arms.
“Max! It’s cold! At least let me get dressed!”
“Nope, sorry. I need you naked.”
“For what? What are we doing here?” I ask, but by then I’m lying on the chair and watching, as he starts taking things out of the cart and hooking up electric to his equipment. “You’re tattooing me?” I ask with awe in my voice. I want his mark on me. I need it.
He kisses my stomach, and it makes me wanton, I instantly feel the tug of need and wetness gather between my legs. Max is lethal to me.
“Max,” I murmur, my voice needy.
“Later, Kitten. First, you’re going to have my work on your body.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he questions as I settle down in the chair, filled with anticipation.
“I want your mark on me, Max.”
“Do you care where I put it?”
“I belong to you, anywhere you want is fine, more than once, even.”
“Fuck, Kitten,” he growls and his mouth slams against mine, almost in anger, but it’s not. I can tell from the hungry way his tongue takes over my mouth and the way his hand grabs my neck and holds my lips to his. My words mean something to him. I give myself over to his kiss. When we break apart, we’re both inhaling, raggedly.
“Max, you keep it up, and you’ll have to fuck me before we can get your name on me.”
“I’m not seeing that as a drawback, Tess.”
I smile; because for the first time since we were almost captured, I feel free. If I could leave the world behind so that Max and I were the only ones who existed, I would. In a heartbeat. I slap his leg playfully. “Ink now, then sex.”
He laughs but starts working. He seems to know what he wants. So I lie back and let him work his magic. The first part tickles but I do my best to hold still.
“I’m doing a simple design on your hip. I don’t want it to be too intricate because I want it done today. I want my name on you, Tess. I need that.”
His words vibrate through me, and I don’t respond, because if I did the only thing that would come out would be a happy sigh of a girl whose brain is mush over a man.
“When did you start tattooing?” I ask as I get lost in the feel of his hands on me. My eyes are closed, and I can’t ever remember being this happy.
“I thought you’ve read all about me?” He asks, not bothering to look up.
“I want to hear things from you, Max.”
“My uncle had an old army buddy, Spandex Pete.”
“Spandex Pete?”
“Crazy as hell, I think Raymond was saner. He wore these bright colored, spandex pants all of the time. Strangest fucking colors I’ve ever seen, we’re talking purple, hot pink, yellow, lime green…he’d hurt your eyes to look at him sometimes.”
“Wow.”
“Mm…hmm… But as crazy as he was, he could do magic with a tattoo gun. He gave me my first tattoo.”
“Which one?”
“The eagle. He said my spirit animal was the eagle. I had no idea what the hell that shit meant, still don’t. But the eagle was fucking cool. So I agreed with him.”
Max has an eagle covering his back shoulder. The eagle is flying, soaring really and the intricate work on the wings alone is something that I always find my fingers tracing over when we’re in bed together.
“I can see that.”
“What?” he asks, still intent on my hip, and I wish I could see what he’s doing.
“The eagle. It’s brave, bold, kind of a loner but fiercely protective, loyal…”
“Tess,” he warns.
“Plus it has a really big….”
He looks up at me with a cross between disbelief and amusement on his face. “Do not tell me you know the size of an eagle’s dick, Kitten.”
“I was going to say wing span, Mad Max,” I joke.
He laughs, shakes his head and goes back to work. I close my eyes and let him. Mission accomplished. I made Max laugh.
35
Max