“A tattoo?” Mark asks with a raised eyebrow and surprise momentarily flashing in his eyes. “Seriously?”
Lexie nods. “I’ve always wanted one.”
“What would you get? A tramp stamp?” He grins and she gives him a glare that he knows she doesn’t mean.
“Something a little classier than that,” she says.
“Yeah. Tattoo and classy are synonymous with one another,” he smirks this time.
She rolls her eyes and he sees her trying to bite back a smile. “How about your name tattooed on my ass?”
He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin pretending to be in deep thought, pondering the suggestion. “Well, your ass does belong to me.”
She can’t help but laugh, shaking her head at him, nudging her foot gently against his leg.
“But,” he frowns, his jovial teasing mood completely disappearing. “You’re not going to some seedy tattoo parlor and pulling down your pants for some guy.”
Lexie can’t help but laugh again and standing up, her pager buzzing, she leans over the table and kisses his forehead before grabbing her tray. She won’t dare tell him how hot his possessiveness over her makes her.
“See you tonight?” She asks though she already knows that she will.
He nods and as she walks away, she can feel his eyes on her ass the entire time. She has to bite down on her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
“Take your pants off,” Mark orders her the instant he walks into his hotel room that night.
Lexie, sitting on the bed, flipping through the television stations with the remote, blinks at him. “Wow,” she says. “It’s true what they say about romance dying in a relationship eventually.”
He locks the door behind him and then unzips his jacket, tossing it onto the back of one of the chairs before toeing out of his shoes. “Pants on the floor now, Little Grey.”
She knows that she should put up a fight. She demands to be seduced, damn it, but there is something the way he is looking at her – his blue steel eyes practically looking black – that has her obeying. Unbuttoning her jeans and then pushing them down her legs, she strips them off, leaving her in black lace boy-shorts and a tee-shirt.
“Now what?” She asks, remaining in the middle of the bed.
“On your stomach,” he says as he goes into the bathroom.
She sighs heavily yet she continues to listen and obediently rolls onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows, vowing to herself that no matter what he does, she will not get pleasure out of it. It is a ridiculous vow to make of course. This is Mark Sloan. He can make her orgasm simply by looking at her.
He comes back into the room and climbs onto the bed. “Okay. What do you think?”
He holds a narrow strip of paper in front of her and she stares at it for a moment before tilting her head up to look at him.
He doesn’t answer and she breaks into a wide smile.
“You really are jealous at the idea of me going to get a tattoo and some guy seeing my body,” she teases though she can actually feel her heart expand in her chest.
Still, he keeps quiet and puts his attention on her ass, pushing the material of her boy-shorts up a bit, exposing more of each cheek. She has to bite down on her lip to suppress a moan as he runs his hands over each one and she jumps in surprise when he places a warm washcloth to her left cheek, wetting the small chosen area of skin.
He works quickly yet diligently and looking at him over her shoulder, she sees the same concentrated expression on his face that he wears while in surgery.
He takes the strip of paper and presses it down to her skin, running the wet cloth over it, keeping it there for a few seconds before he slowly peels it away.
“Well?” She asked, trying to twist and see it herself, but he puts a hand on her hip, keeping her still.
He stares at his handiwork for a moment and then bends down, placing a kiss over it, his lips soft and she nearly shivers. “There you go, Little Grey. One “M” tattoo on your ass.”
He is grinning now, looking quite happy and pleased with himself, and she looks at him, wondering how it is possible to love him more than she does in this moment because she loves him so much already, she doesn't quite understand how she can love him more.
She smiles. “So… does “M” stand for mine or Mark?”
He stretches out next to her, keeping one hand on her ass as he kisses her deeply.
He grins again. “You should know already, Lex. Mark and mine are synonymous with one another.”