“After?” I ask seriously, and he throws his hand over his eyes.

“This is a fucking terrible idea, and they call him crazy, she’s just as bad,” he mutters to himself.

I sit on the chair and roll closer, debating where to tattoo. He doesn’t have much room. “What about your ass?” I murmur, looking him over again.

“You are not tattooing my ass,” he snaps, and I huff.

“Where else? Your cock? I ain’t touching your big ass toes.” I shiver in disgust.

He looks down, searching for room. “Shit, baby, please not my ass.”

I look him over again. “Ass or cock, your choice.”

He narrows his eyes, and I grin.

“Bend over, boy.”

“No vagina is worth this,” he snarls, as he unfastens his jeans and yanks them off, leaving him in little black boxers, his thick thighs covered in tattoos as he desperately hunts for some room. He doesn’t find any and stares at me with wide eyes. “Fuck.”

Grinning, I twirl my finger at him, and he grudgingly turns and lies face down. I tug down his boxers and reveal his peachy fucking ass, but then I freeze. “Are you okay?” I ask lowly, remembering.

He stills but nods, then he turns his head until he can see me. “I’m okay, I can see you.”

I nod and grin again. “Diesel, razor.”

He hands me one, and I clean his cheek before I start to shave it. “Can’t say I ever thought I would be shaving my boyfriend’s ass,” I mutter, making Diesel laugh.

Garrett groans. “I’m never going to live this down. No Barbie or some weird shit, baby, or I’ll do something worse to you.”

“Fine.” I pout as I look at his pale skin. What to do? I grab the needle and, like he showed me earlier, line it up with his skin. I do a tiny heart and then glance up to see him breathing heavily, his eyes closed tight, so I roll back. “Done!”

He opens his eyes and looks at me. “Baby, it’s okay.”

Leaning down, I kiss him softly. “Turn over, I can do your chest,” I suggest, knowing if we stop it will kill him.

He nods and pulls up his pants and flips over. I wipe the area just next to his belly where there is some space, some scarring too. “You sure?” I query softly.

He grits his teeth. “I got this, do it.”

“Let me know if you need me to stop,” I order, and he nods. Diesel slides in and helps me, and we start the tattoo. I hope he likes it. Honestly, I’m scared he won’t, but it’s too late now. I only do a small patch, and I’m nowhere near as good as Garrett, but I’m okay. I used to love drawing, so it’s not too much harder. Okay, that’s a lie, but still.

When it’s done, Diesel adds detail and shading as I grip Garrett’s shaking hand and lean into his face, grinning at him. “It’s totally a dick, will you punish me again?” I grin, and he laughs.

“You fucking bet, baby.” He keeps his eyes locked on me, and I babble, distracting him until Diesel is done.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” I murmur against his lips. He grips my head and groans.

“I trust you, baby.”

It floors me.

I can’t speak as he pulls away and checks out his new tattoo. I’m frozen in place. He trusts me. I hear his gasp.

“Holy fuck, Roxy.”

I turn and stare at it through the mirror, worried he hates it. What started as a joke actually means something now. He trusted me enough to touch him… Fuck, what was I thinking? It’s some of his skin peeled away where the scar is, and underneath it are moving snake coils, like his skin was flayed away to reveal the viper underneath. Diesel’s details make it look so much better, and there’s no dick. I figured Garrett was too brave for that shit.

He turns, his eyes wide and shocked. “Baby—”

I shrug. “She might have cut you up, Garrett, but underneath all that skin is a viper, a predator, stronger than ever.”

He storms towards me, and I hold my breath, but he tugs me against him and kisses me hard, desperately, lovingly, before leaning his forehead against mine. “I fucking love it.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

He nods, but then narrows his eyes teasingly. “What did you draw on my ass?”

I pull away and point at Diesel. “He did it!” I yell, before starting to run.

I hear him pulling down his pants. “Roxy!” he shouts while I laugh.

Garrett catches me, though, and scoops up my legs and holds me to his chest. “A heart? Really?”

“It’s cute.” I grin, and he snorts as he brings me back to the living room. “What trouble can we get up to now?” I question, wiggling my brows.

It turns out we could get into a lot of trouble. I seem to have started a prank war among the Vipers, but these criminals don’t fill water balloons with flour or hide fake snakes somewhere. No, they play it for fucking real. It’s crazy, and I can’t help but laugh as we mess with Kenzo’s car. We decided to spray paint it, which I’m betting is worth millions. I draw dicks on it, because why not, and so does Diesel. Garrett helps, and we all giggle like kids as we do it.

For Ryder, we head to his office which is below the apartment. Diesel suggests a grenade under his chair, but we luckily manage to veto that idea. I really want to ask where he got the grenade, but honestly, it doesn’t even surprise me. Instead, we do something equally as crazy.

We buy a brothel in his name.

All communications are sent to his email, and within a few minutes, he calls us. “What the fuck is happening? Have I been hacked, or did you get bored and buy a fucking…what the fuck is this shit, Garrett? Slippery Hole? What the fuck?”

I can’t stop laughing, and he must hear it. “Love, if you did this, why are they asking me if I want a test run? My preferences are…a fucking golden shower by men? Jesus, Roxxane.” But I can hear the smile in his voice. “You want war, love? You got it.” He hangs up.

Oh shit.

I’m so dead.

We all wait in the garage downstairs for Kenzo to get back, and he pulls in driving a car I’ve never seen before. It’s black, a matte black, which is hot as hell. It’s sleek, low riding, and a sports car, but honestly, I haven’t got a clue what kind. Ryder pulls in behind him, and we leap out as they slide from their vehicles, all standing around Kenzo’s car.

He comes towards us and then freezes when he sees the new paint. “You fucking didn’t,” he snarls.

“Us? We wouldn’t dare.” I bat my lashes as his eyes catch the graphic diagram of him and a stick figure.

“Darling, this car cost more than a goddamn city,” he grouses. “And to think I was going to give you your own car…”

“Wait, what?” I gasp, rushing around, but he shakes his head, holding up the keys. “That sexy as fuck machine is mine?” Normally, I would be pissed at them for buying something so expensive, but…it really is fucking sexy.

“Was going to be, but I don’t think you deserve it. Do you, brother?” he asks.

Ryder snorts. “I’m still getting emails about slip and slides of urine. I told her to behave, so I say no.”

“But it’s so pretty,” I whisper, peeking around him and gaping at the car. “Is it really for me?”