You with a pen was likely just as dangerous as an army of men. You were like a child on Christmas. Especially when Matt succumbed to your pleading and allowed you to doodle on his hand. It became a common occurrence. A habit for you.

Not that Matt would ever complain. He simply handed his hand to you willingly upon seeing you step closer with a pen in your grasp.

“Gonna give me some new tattoos baby?”

Matt inquired, eyes ogling you in an arousing manner.