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tutorials.”
    “No thanks,” Becca responded in a cordial tone. A thin line
of perspiration had broken out along her forehead. Chad saw her nostrils flare
and captured her gaze. The odd lighting had brought out the gold in her eyes
and Chad wondered if that’s how they’d look after he was done making love to
her.
    Herzog pressed. “If you’re certain—”
    She ignored the man and nodded at Chad. Creature of habit
that she was, he knew Becca was going to throw out the icebreaker she always
employed right before her needle descended. The first time she’d said it, he’d
been caught off guard.
    “You ready to pound skin?” she asked, offering him the
tiniest of grins.
    He gave her a wide smile in return. This time he didn’t lie.
“With you, baby? Always.”

Chapter Three
     
    Becca set her gun down. A little over an hour. Pretty damn
good for working with specialized ink. She stared at the knot, satisfaction
rolling through her body. It was flawless. She dared anyone to find a place
where the continual pattern was broken. She stole at peek at Chad’s face. He
was still staring at the ceiling, probably trying to pretend Herzog wasn’t in
the room. God knew there was a point where she’d wished the same. She had been
at the most critical part of the design, joining the thick outer bands, when
Herzog had stood up and scooted his stool closer to Chad.
    She had looked up just as he was reaching out, as if he were
going to touch the raw, red flesh. Chad had flinched when she demanded Herzog
sit back and give her the space she needed but the man hadn’t moved. They had a
good half minute of her machine humming, the needle hovering over Chad’s flesh
as she and Herzog played a game of visual chicken. It had taken him a damn long
time to comply but he was a little less arrogant when he sat down.
    She answered Herzog’s questions succinctly, inking Chad’s
skin and wiping away the blood and milky-white ink in a systematic manner. When
she was nearly halfway through the door opened and a group of four women and
one man joined them. The women varied in age and appearance but the man bore a
striking resemblance to Troy. Herzog pointed and they formed a line and dropped
to their knees on the hard wooden floor off to one side.
    Now isn’t that just fucked up?
    Their readiness to obey left Becca uneasy. When she got some
free time, she was going to have to do some Googling on the whole submissive
subculture. Chad had called it a lifestyle.
    Doubly fucked up.
    Becca took one last look at Chad’s new ink. She could barely
see the trauma to the skin. If he took as good care of it as he had his last
tattoo it was going to heal to perfection.
    She turned toward Troy, relieved to find him looking at her.
She didn’t want to have to call his name before she asked him to adjust the
lighting.
    “Let’s see it under the UVs,” she said. Once he had the
regular lighting shut off and the specialized lighting on she’d shut her own
lamp. She wasn’t about to spend one minute in the dark with a dungeon master
who was probably as interested in Chad as he was in her.
    Troy hurried away and Becca started capping her plastic ink
pots.
    “It’s barely red,” Chad said. He maneuvered his arm for a
better view and pride surged through Becca when she saw the corner of his mouth
curve upward. “You going to hit that with some bacitracin?”
    “Not this time,” she replied, leaning a little closer. “A
and D ointment for this one since I know you can be trusted to keep it clean.
You didn’t have a reaction to the bacitracin last time, no weeping wound, but I
definitely don’t like pushing the envelope with the invisible ink.”
    The room fell into darkness then the black lights came one.
Chad’s tattoo glowed, the work intricate and crisp, even with the swelling.
    Herzog rose and moved to Becca’s side. He pressed closer and
she fought the urge to scoot her chair out of his way. He studied her work,
turned his head from side