She frowned, her finger stroking down my throat.
“Who would do it?”
I considered our options, figuring I could probably guess the outcome.
“Two of our members are trained. Has-Been is one of them.”
She nodded. “He’s the only one I’d trust to come that close.” Fuck. I hated it instantly, but also felt relieved that she trusted one of my closest friends.A true brother.
“Okay. He won’t do anything untoward, I promise you.”
She swallowed. “I know. Who… who would do yours?”
I shrugged, because it was irrelevant to me. Both our tattooists were talented as fuck, and had both inked me in the past.
“Him or Rocket, but I don’t really give a fuck. It’ll look good whoever does it. About the tattoo…”
She nuzzled my chest, and I damn near forgot every fucking word of what I was saying.
“Ryder?”
“Uh… yeah…”
She giggled, lifting her head.
“You were telling me about the tattoo I’m going to have to have.”
This is it. “Uh… so I’ll be getting one, and it’ll say you’re my old lady, and include our club logo, and… hell…yours would say ‘Property of Ryder’.” I waited for the fallout. Waited with bated breath for the feminist outburst that was sure to follow, but she just giggled, and snuggled against my chest.
“Okay.”What?
“Okay? Just like that? Okay?”
She snuggled closer. “Yeah. I’m okay with that.”
Jesus, she just kept surprising me.
“Ryder?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“What will yours say?”
“It’s a design the club has. It’ll show your name, and old lady under it, with the club logo.” I never thought I’d wear one, and now I couldn’t fucking wait.
“It won’t say ‘property of Tori’?”
I couldn’t hold back my laugh.
“Doesn’t work like that, babe.” She tried to move, and I tightened my arms on her. “I’m yours. We both know that, but the tat doesn’t say it.”
She grumbled under her breath, but said no more about it. She dozed off in my lap, and I took the opportunity to message Ice.
Me:Need something, brother.
Ice:So you don’t talk to me for days, and then you want something. Shall I explain how this shit is supposed to work?
I snorted, and replied.