I laughed as I tossed it to her and she caught it. She leaned against the wall behind my bed, the sheets slipping away from her body and revealing her luxurious curves to me as I climbed back onto the bed. She cracked her water open and took a few long pulls, giving me ample time to study the crevices of her body I hadn’t seen just yet.
Like the soft scar in the crook of her waist. And the faded pock marks on her left upper arm. And the slight crookedness of her pinky as she held it out while downing her bottle of water.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
“So your tattoos.”
Her voice pulled me from my trance. “What about them?”
“I really like that sunset.”
I grinned. “It’s my favorite part of the tattoo.”
“Do all of the guys have a sunset like that?”
I shook my head. “Nope. That’s unique to me. I got it after John stepped down and made me president of the club.”
“So does he have a sunset? Since he was once president?”
“Nope. The base tattoo you see right here--with the rose and the vines and the mantra?--every guy inducted into the Red Thorns has that. When John was president, he got a separate tattoo. A rose on his left upper arm, with the beginning and end dates of his run in that position wrapped around it. Like a ribbon.”
“Why the sunset, then?”
I paused. “I wanted a new day to rise on the Red Thorns. I wanted to completely overhaul the group and get them away from some of the shit they’d gotten themselves into. We’ll never be fully safe, but I wanted to make things as safe as possible for them.”
She smiled. “The dawning of a new day.”
“Exactly.”
Her fingers rose and danced along my tattoo. “Will anyone ever have the same kind of tattoo one day? Or will it only ever be you?”
I chuckled. “Only my woman will have this tattoo. One day, at least.”
She giggled. “Oh, really now?”
I nodded. “Really, really.”
“And where do you expect your woman to get this tattoo? Assuming she obliges.”
“Well, seeing as she just told me she’d do anything for an orgasm, I don’t think she has a leg to stand on.”
Her lips parted in shock. “My parents would freak out if I got a tattoo.”
“You’re a big girl, Dani. I think you’ll be fine.”
“No, I just meant--”
“Gorgeous, you hit a thug in the back of the head with an empty wine bottle. I think you can make the decision to get your own tattoo. You know where I think it might look good?”
“Max, I just don’t know if--”
I traced my finger along her left breast. “Right there.”
She blushed. “You think?”
Then I traced my finger along the valley of her breasts. “Or right there.”
“That would hurt, though, right?”