I don’t like it at all. It only makes me hurt more and I blurt out, “It’s b-because we’re both in pain. And we’re suffering and I-I think… I just want it to end. I want us to move on and —”
And then he takes his shirt off and my words go poof.
He rips it off really, snagging it at the back and yanking it off his body. And then…
Then there are just muscles.
Miles and miles of them. Tanned and summery and rippling.
All jam-packed and sleek. Dense.
So beautiful.
And yeah, sexy. Such a work of art. So much so that even the black and blue bruises, the numerous cuts and scrapes, do nothing to take away from the allure of his body.
They do twist my heart though. At how brutal they look. How painful.
And all because of the two years’ worth of torment. Maybe even from before that.
For wanting what doesn’t belong to him.
His best friend’s girl.
I flick my eyes up and focus on his rippling chest. “You didn’t have that before.”
I’m referring to his tattoo.
A series of numbers, in a plain script, on the left side of his chest. Tonight I get a good look at them: 1510.234 3023.456 When I first noticed his tattoo, two weeks ago, I couldn’t understand what it’s supposed to be. And tonight, after reading and re-reading the numbers, I still don’t.
“No, I didn’t.”
I look up, into his eyes. “What is it?”
“Something that matters.”
Confused, I frown. “What does that —”
Suddenly my words halt and then simply dissolve on my tongue like sugar because he bends down, his sculpted abs curling. Which is fine, or would be fine, if he hadn’t also gripped my ankles at the same time. Both of them, and in a very firm hold. And then keeping his eyes on me, he kisses one.
The one with the anklet, making me suck my belly in and bite my lip.
At his both tender and possessive gesture.
And then he gets on the bed.
He gets between my legs, that he widens.
Widens and widens and keeps going until my heart is in my throat and my eyes are big as saucers.
His smirk is back.
It’s small but no less potent.
You’d think that it would dampen the fire in his eyes, the fire that’s making them look all dark and glinting, but it doesn’t. Somehow that arrogant smirk on his split lip and the intent look in his eyes go together.
They work super well and make him look larger than life.
They make him look like a force of nature.