Page 56 of A Wife's Duty

“I do trust you.” She smiled at him.

“Great, now eat your sticky bun. It goes great with the coffee.”

He put a rolled sticky bun right in front of her, and she took a bite. The caramel and the nuts were so delicious. After chewing the first bite, she picked up her coffee and took another sip.

Boone had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, and she couldn’t help but admire the many tattoos he had.

“What’s it like having tattoos?” she asked. I sound so immature.

“Do you mean is it painful?”

“That, and what is it like? Do you like it? Do you regret having them?”

“No, I don’t regret them. I imagine it is painful to some, but not to me. Are you curious about having ink?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “I got my hair cut, and I guess having ink is just another line I could cross.”

Boone continued to look at her, and she wondered what he was thinking. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but he held a finger up and moved. She frowned, watching him go to one the few stands he had in his apartment. He opened one of the drawers, and then came toward her. He had some felt-tip pens in his hands.

“Take your shirt off,” he said.

“What? Why?”

Not that she had a problem. If he wanted to have sex, she was happy to oblige.

“Trust me.”

And she did completely trust him. She removed her shirt, and Boone moved his chair closer to her. Lucia didn’t have a clue what he was doing, until she felt the tip of the pen on her flesh. Boone was drawing on her flesh. She looked at him, then down at her arm, as he began to draw something.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

“Hell, no, but I can draw a couple of things.”

She sat still as he held her arm, not tight but firm, and changed colors as he worked. She kept glancing down. He glided the pen over her arm, going around her wrist. Lucia loved being the center of his attention.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, until he put the lid on the last pen and told her to have a look. The ink on her arm was a picture of a door, surrounded by vines and flowers. It was not perfect, but it looked beautiful.

“Wow,” Lucia said.

“You can wear that for the rest of the day, see how you like having ink, and then, if you do like it, we’ll arrange for you to get a tattoo.”

“Really?”

He stroked some of the hair off her face and moved in close, putting his lips to her ear.

“Do I have to keep reminding you that with me, you’re free to make your own choices?”

“But I can’t stay with you?” she asked.

This made him laugh. “No, you can’t stay with me.”

She looked at him, and it was strange how bold she felt. “Can I ask you to kiss me again?”

“You can ask me for anything.”

He kissed her lips. It was just the merest breath of a kiss, but it made her gasp, and she smiled at him.

“And again?” Lucia asked.

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