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She lifted her chin off of my chest, and her eyes opened again as she’d thought it over. She was convinced she’d studied my body enough to know. It hit her like a truck. “Of course!” She rolled off of me enough to free my arm and turned it over to expose the inside. “Evolve” scrolled across in fancy, rolling script.

“Okay,” she said as she traced it. “So what’s this one?”

I took a deep breath and blew it out. “That’s the first tattoo I ever did.”

Her startled gaze jerked to mine. “You did this one?”

I nodded. “Last fall.”

“What? How? I don’t get it,” she rambled.

I shrugged and looked to the comforter. “I’ve been apprenticing with Frankie. They make you do your first real run on yourself. You know, so you don’t permanently fuck somebody else’s skin up.”

“It doesn’t look like a first tattoo,” she said, excited. “It’s amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh my God, yes. It’s really good!”

My smile would have blinded an airplane. “I was really fucking nervous about that thing for a while. I actually had to go to rugby practice the day after I did it. And of course, I ended up on the skins team. I had this gut reaction that everyone would give me a hard time for how much it sucked.”

She shook her head quickly and then leaned forward to touch her lips to mine. “Do you have any more stuff?”

“No more tattoos on myself, but I’ve got some drawings.”

The sheet left me in one smooth motion as she jumped up and wrapped it around herself, demanding, “Show me now.”

Up and out of the bed and boxer briefs on, I led her out of the room and to the second bedroom. When I opened the door, she stomped her foot.

“I can’t believe I hadn’t snooped in here yet! What is wrong with me?”

Chuckles shook my chest as I watched her spin in a circle, taking in the room. The walls were filled with drawings I’d done, and my notebook sat right in the middle of my sketch desk. She made a beeline for it and started flipping through the pages.

I had all sorts of different things in there. Original designs, sayings that stood out to me sketched in varying script, and even faces and places that I’d remembered vividly enough to draw.

“Holy shit, Thatcher.”

I walked up behind her and put my lips to her shoulder. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

She shook her head slowly as she flipped through the pages one a time. “No. I’ve never felt like there was anything I felt strongly enough about to commit to my skin for life.”

I nodded there, right in the crook of her neck, until the tickle of my facial hair made her shiver.

She paused on one page, and I read it over her shoulder. One of my absolute favorite sketches filled my chest with new meaning.

She was crazy. Wild.

Chaos & beauty.

My heart.

Mine.

Vulnerable and soft, she whispered right out into the emptiness of the room. “I want to be yours.”

My eyes closed and love overwhelmed me. “You fucking are.”

Forever.

The huge motor whined as we sped up through a hole in traffic. People barely moved out of the way, but despite our slow progress toward someone’s life-or-death situation, I couldn’t find it in myself to get angry. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, I was sitting shotgun in a fire truck, and I was in all my motherfucking glory.

“Thatch!” I shouted into my phone over the blaring sirens in the background.

“Cass? Where are you?”

“I’m in a fire truck cruising down 5th Avenue!”

“What?” he yelled. “I’m having trouble hearing you. It sounded like you said you’re in a fire truck.”

“You heard me right!” The sirens increased in three loud bursts as the fire engine maneuvered through an intersection. “I’m saving lives and putting out fires for the day!”

I couldn’t hear his response because the truckload of firemen started to argue around me.

“Goddammit! Move out of the way!”

“Take a left, Ronnie! It’s faster!”

“Fuck off, Vin!”

A minute later, the sirens died down and we pulled up in front of an apartment building. The guys jumped out and headed inside while I stayed back in the truck. I was finding that not all emergencies were actual emergencies. Sometimes what one person might call a kitchen fire another would call, Bullshit, just turn off your stove, moron.

“Are you still there, T?” I asked into the receiver.

“Yeah, honey,” he responded. “I thought you had a shoot today.”

“I shot a charity calendar for FDNY, and we finished a little earlier than expected,” I explained. “I convinced the guys to let me go on a few runs with them. Do you have any idea how cool it is riding around in the fire truck all day?” I hopped out of the truck and started to pace on the sidewalk. The adrenaline rushes from the last five runs had my body bursting with excited, nervous energy. “I think I want to change my career.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” I agreed and watched pedestrians mill about the building, looking for a show. I wanted to tell them to mind their own fucking business, but the last time I had done that, the lieutenant told me to zip it or else I’d get the boot.

Obviously, since boots so weren’t a summer shoe, I kept my loud mouth shut.

“Are you busy tonight?” I asked Thatch, staring into the building and hoping I’d see a lick of flames burst through the window. It would probably ruin people’s lives, but it would really make mine.

Yeah, I’m an asshole today.

“Just rugby practice and then I’m free.”

I grinned. “Wanna meet me for a drink after?”

“Sure. Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. I’ll ask the guys where we’re going, and I’ll text you.”

“And by guys, you mean the firemen, right?”

“Yep.” I waited for a jealous or unsure reaction most men would’ve have given in that kind of scenario, but it didn’t come.

Thatch merely took it all in stride. Not the least bit concerned that I was paling around with a bunch of muscly firemen. “Sounds good, honey,” he answered. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay. See ya then.”

“Cass?” he asked before we ended the call.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Be careful, okay?” His voice was soft around the edges.

Goddammit, this thoughtful dickhead.

If he were standing in front of me, I might have kneed him in the balls.

But instead, I answered, “Don’t worry, the only time they let me out of the truck is if I’m sneaking out of it when they’re running into a building. Otherwise, the protective bastards are all about proper protocols and fire safety. They’re kind of a pain in my ass, to be honest.”

“Good.” He chuckled. “I like these guys already.”

A few beers deep, I strongly encouraged Ronnie to sing karaoke with me on stage.

“No way, Cass,” he said through a laugh. “I don’t care how gorgeous you are, I’m not getting up there.”

I fluttered my eyelashes like a lady and then spewed words that conveyed the exact opposite. “Oh, c’mon! Don’t be such a ball sac!”

“I think you mean don’t be such a pussy in this scenario,” Ronnie retorted.

“Hell no,” I scoffed. “Pussies trump balls every time. Those bitches can take a serious pounding. Balls are the sensitive little fuckers. Shit, they’d probably cry during Titanic.”

Vin chuckled. “Yeah, Ronnie. Stop being such a ball sac.”

Ronnie flipped him off in response, but he stayed resolute in his decision.

“How about a game of quarters instead?” Brian offered, and when it came to drinking games, that was one I simply could not and would not refuse.

For the next hour, I spanked the boys at quarters while the waitress kept up a steady stream of fresh beers and rounds of shots. It was a little after nine when Thatch strode through the bar doors, freshly showered and looking sexy as hell. God help me, he made jeans and a T-shirt look better than anyone I knew.

His eyes met mine, and a slow smirk crested the corners of his lips as he headed in my direction.

“Hey, Crazy,” he greeted as he leaned down to kiss my cheek.

“Hi.” I grinned up at him before turning back toward the table. “Guys, this is my fiancé, Thatch,” I introduced him to the six guys seated around the table. “Baby, this is Vin, Ronnie, Brian, Bruce, Eddie, and Matt.”

Thatch shook each guy’s hand and sat down beside me. When I hopped out of my chair and made myself comfortable in his lap, his eyebrows shot up with amusement.

“I missed you today,” I whispered into his ear. “I’m glad you came out.”

He kissed the corner of my mouth. “I’m glad you had a good time today.”

“I think tonight is going to be even better.” I waggled my brows.

Thatch smirked. “Is that right?”

I nodded slowly. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

His gaze made a slow circuit down my body, taking inventory of all of his favorite places, but his eyes really lit when they landed on the flush of my cheeks. It must have been obvious that I was just buzzed enough to break out all of my dirtiest moves. His eyes dove back to my chest as soon as the thought scrolled across my open eyes. I knew I was showing every single freaky intention.


Tags: Max Monroe Billionaire Bad Boys Billionaire Romance