Tattoo
She squirms beneath his fingers, the roughness of his palms tickling her sides as his hands explore her waist, her stomach. She resorts to biting her lower lip to keep from making a noise, to keep herself from giving him the satisfaction . . . .
"Tony!" she cries, unable to curb her laughter any longer. And she's writhing and wriggling as his own low chuckles vibrate into the air, into the mattress, into her. He crawls over her, flopping down on his stomach, his head falling next to hers on the pillow.
"Proud of yourself, DiNozzo?"
"Found your tattoo."
A/N: One week to go :^)