Ronnie was stuck. He was in what might have been a broom closet at one time, though the old factory had long since seen better days. Something hard was digging into his right shoulder as he growled, and he swore he felt one of his horns scrape the low ceiling with each turn of his head. Where the fuck was the light? Any light? And why in the Maker's name was Ruby giggling in the corner. "Shut up," he grumbled as he finally found a switch. By some grace of the Maker, the lone bulb above them still worked. At least enough he could see her face- the tattoos, the red hair, those eyes that had haunted his nightmares for years. "You should take this a lot more serious," he finally bit out. He looked away as he spoke, unable to stand her infectious grin any longer as he pressed his ear to the door. "I don't know what kind of trouble you're in again, but this certainly wasn't how I planned to spend my night." "Oh come on, soldado." Her voice was warm, playful as she teased him. It settled at the base of his spine, brushing across every frayed nerve until the lush richness crawled up to carve itself into his skull. He was so distracted he missed her movements as she crossed the room. And he was almost ashamed at the sharp inhale of breath when she whispered against his ear, "I thought you would have missed our little adventures. I know I certainly did."

Tattoos