Tabby dug her keys out of her purse and led the way to the back door. “So, do you have an idea of what you want?” Tabby clicked on the lights only in the back of Living Art. No sense advertising that someone was here when they weren’t supposed to be.

“Other than the bear and wolf? No.”


She led him into her workspace. “So, I get creative license, huh?” He just grinned at her and settled into the chair. “Cool. What kind of bear?”

“A grizzly.”

She plopped down on her stool, stunned. “Grizzly?”

He nodded, watching her closely.

“You’re a grizzly?” Wow. That explains a lot. He said he had anger management issues? Talk about an understatement. Grizzlies were considered the most aggressive of all the Bears. Some would say they were the most aggressive of all the shifters. She whistled. “Okay. Feel free to protect me from, y’know, anything you feel I need protection from.” It wasn’t like she’d be able to stop him. Grizzlies could, and would, face down entire Packs. Those confrontations usually ended in the Bear’s favor, unless the Pack was particularly large or themselves extremely aggressive.

He chuckled. “Have any ideas what you’d like to do?”

She leaned back and studied him. “Where would you like the tattoo? And what size?” A glimmer of an idea was building inside her. Watching Alex with his family had made her long for things she’d thought she’d never have. She’d dreamed of a roof over her head, food on the table, cubs at her feet and a man by her side who’d love her forever when she ran as a Wolf. Now Alex was offering her everything she’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

Yeah. She had an idea of what she’d ink onto him. Their hopes and dreams, permanently on his flesh.

He sat up and pulled off his shirt. He pointed to his chest. “Here, and whatever size you’d like.”

She ran her hand over the smooth skin, felt his muscles ripple under her hand.

Oh, he’d look so good with her ink right there, her signature for anyone to see. “I know what I’m going to do.” She handed him a magazine. “Give me about twenty minutes, okay?”

He nodded. “Mind if I put on the radio?”

“Nah, go ahead. Just stay out of the front of the shop. We don’t want anyone thinking we’re open or wondering if we’re being robbed.” She grinned at him and headed back through the curtain. She smiled to herself. Cyn obviously hadn’t found the ladder yet; the sign she’d tacked up was still there. She sat down at the desk and began drawing.

She drew the outline of her Wolf. The darker and lighter browns would blend together, the colors of her fur melding with his skin. The Wolf would stare out at the viewer with golden brown eyes. She was lying on her side, her expression serene. Behind the Wolf sat Alex’s Bear, its massive head dwarfing her Wolf’s. The Bear gazed down at the Wolf, his body hovering protectively over hers. Behind them a Wolf cub and a Bear cub frolicked in the mouth of a cave, a den for all of them.

Family. Home. Dreams etched into flesh.

Alex was going to love it.

She took the sketch to him and showed it to him. “What do you think?” He stared at it so long she started to get worried. “Well?”


“I want it in color.” His voice was reverent, his finger tracing over first the Wolf cub, then the Bear cub.

Like she would ink it any other way. It was going to look magnificent in full color.

“I just need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Anything.”

The ease with which he said that had her smiling like a love-struck groupie.

“Take all your clothes off.”

His lips curved up into a wicked smile. “Going to have your way with me?”

Now there’s a thought. She shivered. The thought of riding him while he sat in her chair had her nipples hard in seconds. “Maybe, afterwards. But first I need to know what you look like.”

One eyebrow rose. “I’d think by now you’d be intimately acquainted with how I look.”

She giggled. “I want to see your Bear, you perv.”

“Oh,” he drawled. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “Okay. You asked for it.”

She watched him undress, amazed anew at how lucky she’d been in the mate lottery. Alex truly was stunning when naked, all rippling muscle under smooth brown skin. Her fingers twitched. God, he had the best ass.

“Ready?”

She nodded. She was eager to see him, draw him. She wanted them on the tattoo, not two random animals.

Alex began to shift. Her eyes grew wide as his body grew, and grew. His head easily hit the height of the eight-foot ceiling and he bowed down, landing on his front paws. She figured he had to break the ten-foot mark when upright. As it was, his head was still above her own. “Um. Big.”

His head dipped, brushing against her chest. She took the hint and rubbed his massive head. His eyes closed, his chest rumbling, the Bear equivalent of a purr.

“Damn, Alex.” His eyes opened and he stared at her. It was hard to read his expression. “You’re beautiful.” His eyes closed on a sigh. She suspected it was relief.

She ran her hands all over him. She fingered the lethal five-inch claws, giggled at the huge hump of muscle on his back. He sat down, watching her move around him. When she reached his face again, his tongue reached out and ran up the side of her face.

“Blech.” She wiped away the Bear drool and picked up her digital camera. She snapped off a shot of him sitting there. The tattoo would show him from the front.

“Change back, smart-ass. I have a tattoo to do.”

He shifted. “So?”

She frowned absently and used the USB cable to plug the camera into the photo printer. She pressed the button to print out the picture of her Bear. So what? Ah, there we go. The picture was almost done. She’d have to make sure no one else saw the image of her Bear sitting in the middle of the tattoo parlor. Well, maybe I’ll show Cyn and Glory. They’d get a huge kick out of it. “Almost done. Let me make some adjustments to the sketch, make the transfer and we’ll get started.”

He settled back into her chair, still naked, and watched her while she cleaned off his chest. She shaved off any stray hairs, making sure there was nothing that would interfere with the clarity of the design. She transferred the image to his chest, smiling at the sight. It looked perfect. Tabby mixed her inks and snapped on her rubber gloves. “Ready?”

“C’mere.” Alex pulled her down, kissing her so sweetly she damn near melted at his feet. “Mark me, Tabby. Make me yours.”

She shivered. She kissed the center of the tattoo. She’d lined it up so that his Bear rested at his heart. “Mine.”

He settled back down with a smile and closed his eyes. “Yours.”

Tabby picked up her gun, dipped it in the ink, and began to draw.


She hadn’t freaked. She’d seen his Bear and, instead of being terrified, she’d been fascinated.

He was such a goner. If he hadn’t fallen for her before, he certainly was in love now. She’d reacted with joy, told him he was beautiful, played with his claws. No one ever played with his claws.

She’d touched him like he was a treasure. She’d made him hers more thoroughly than any mating mark could.

He’d almost had her move the image so that her Wolf rested over his heart, but changed his mind at the last minute. Bear had led him to his mate. She was healing his heart, and that heart would protect his Wolf with everything in him.

Having her image there, below his Bear and his heart, forever protected and loved, was just right.

She was so close to him, her thigh brushed his leg. She hovered over him, her gaze intent on the art she was creating. The sting of the needle was nothing. He watched her etch their love, their life, into his skin and smiled. This was what he wanted, his Wolf, his family, and a home of their own. His cock hardened at the thought of Tabby round with his cubs.

“What are you thinking about?”

He wondered if she’d freak if he told her. “My new ink.”

“Which part?”

“The cubs.”

The needle didn’t stutter. “You’re okay with pups?”

“Cubs.”

She looked up at him through her lashes. “Pubs?”

He tried not to laugh. “Cups?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so.”

He moved his hand, let his fingers brush her thigh. “Children?”

The needle lifted. Her fingers shook. “Yeah. Children.”


For a second, she sounded breathless. He nodded. “I’m okay with it.”

“Good.” She took a deep breath, her expression once more intent. The needle hit his flesh, the ink sinking into his skin. A deep peace settled over him. Funny.

Usually he had to do an hour of yoga and mediation to achieve this level of just…

being. He knew it had nothing to do with the tattoo and everything to do with the artist.

For hours, he lay there, watching his mate, his lover, mark their future, the figures taking shape under her skillful hands. Every now and then, he’d smile, visions of what they both needed dancing in his head. He could picture the house he wanted for them, the way he’d come home after a long day and find his mate, all green hair and big sparkling eyes, waiting for him. A warm, loving smile would be on those full pink lips. Maybe they’d both get more ink, maybe they wouldn’t.

And sometimes he’d be the one standing at the door, waiting for his love, their cubs safely tucked in bed.

It was after midnight by the time she was done. She sat up, set the gun down and stretched. He heard popping noises. She’d been bent over so long her back crackled. “Take a look.”

He sat up and stared at himself in the big mirror over her counter. He kept his hands away, knowing he couldn’t touch, but damn if he didn’t want to. Her Wolf’s eyes practically jumped off his chest. “It’s perfect.”

He heard her snap off her gloves. “Let’s get you covered so we can get out of here.”

He turned, smiling when her gaze drifted down to his cock. “See something you want?”

She rolled her eyes but he could see the flush working its way into her cheeks.

“You’re going to have to be careful with your tattoo. You can’t really work up too much of a sweat for at least a few hours. You need to give it time to heal.” She frowned. “Wait. Can you heal it?”

He shook his head. “Nope. If I’m not careful, I could cause scarring. I have to let it heal naturally.”

“Oh.”

He reached down and stroked his erection, loving the way her eyes locked on his hand. “You know, we could always turn up the air conditioning.”

“Lie down so I can bandage you, horn dog.”

He chuckled and got back into the chair. His erection bobbed against his stomach. “Like this?” He raised his hands up until they clasped the headrest. He spread his thighs and waited to see what she’d do.

“I should have had you put your clothes back on first.” She rubbed the ointment into the tattoo with gentle hands, bandaging him up carefully. “You know the drill. You’ve gotten ink before. No soaking the bandages, mild antibacterial soap for washing, use A&D ointment. No Neosporin or it’ll scar.”

He nodded. He knew what to do, and if he fouled up, his own little artist would kick his ass to remind him.

“Are you just going to leave me like this?” He waved at his erection.


She folded her arms over her chest. “What will I get out of it?”

He grinned. “Orgasms. Lots of them.”

She bit her lip, looking like a naughty little girl. “If Cyn finds out about this, I’m in so much trouble.”

His hips jerked. “We’ll clean the place up when we’re done.” He hadn’t actually thought she’d go for it. He figured she’d argue, he’d get dressed and he’d take her back to the hotel room. Having sex in her chair? Talk about a fantasy come true!

Her smile was slow and languid, her eyes heavy with passion. She leaned down and took the head of his cock into her hot, wet mouth. “Oh, fuck.” He reached for her head, eager to guide her rhythm just the way they both liked.

“Nuh-uh. Keep those hands up, mister, or this stops.”

His hands latched onto the headrest. As far as he was concerned, they were chained there.

“Good boy.” She patted his hip and swallowed him down, taking him to the root.

“Oh, shit.” He fought to keep still. He didn’t want to choke her, but damn that felt incredible. He’d never had anyone take him the way she did.

Her head began to bob, her tongue playing his cock like a fucking virtuoso. He lost himself in the sensation of his mate pleasuring him. God, he’d never felt anything quite so good. The cool air of the tattoo parlor blew over him, the pictures on the wall reminding him of the art she’d done on other people. He’d have to get her to take a picture of his new work, add it to the gallery on the wall of her station.