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Like he was doing with the bar.
He ripped her tank top over her head but as he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, she twisted until she was lying flat on her belly.
He hesitated.
And she knew why.
He was looking at the tattoo that took up even more landscape on her back than the BFMC colors did on his.
He was no longer in a rush to remove her leggings. Instead he remained silent and his finger traced down her spine. She knew he was reading the word “perseverance” that was written down the center of the trunk of the large Tree of Life tattoo.
She held her breath when his fingers hesitated on the fallen leaf at the base of the tree.
Please don’t ask. Not yet.
Not yet.
She released the air she was holding deep within her lungs when he moved on, catching the waistband and rolling her leggings down her thighs, working them over her knees, calves and then her feet.
His broad, warm hands slid up her bare skin from her ankles to the top of her thighs, where he gripped her hips, and pressed his mouth to the very top of her crease, where one of the tree roots ended.
“That’s a lot of ink,” he murmured against her skin.
“Yeah,” she murmured back.
“Took a lot of time.”
“Yeah.”
“Your full sleeve alone... Know how long it takes. The time and money invested.”
“Yeah.” She could afford it then. She couldn’t afford it now.
Most of it had been done years ago, starting when she was eighteen, one small piece after the other, until the sleeve on her left arm was done in full color, unlike his sleeve of black and gray.
The tree was also in color, but done in watercolor, so it was a softer look for the green leaves and the brown trunk. PERSEVERANCE was in solid black. The only part in grayscale was the fallen leaf with Kade’s name in it.
She had that done, along with the lettering, a lot later...
After.
He ran his tongue up her spine and when he was finished, he said, “The word’s a good reminder, unless you don’t heed it, Stel.”
She had gotten it to keep herself breathing when she wanted to do nothing but stop. To remind herself that one day it would get better, she just needed to get herself to that day.
She almost didn’t... until she persevered.
He straddled her hips, swept her hair from her neck and replaced it with his face. His mouth moved along her neck and around the curve of her ear. “Need to grab a wrap and for you to turn over, baby. Not doin’ it from behind today. Wanna see your face, want to feel your nails, your mouth. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
She shouldn’t want that, too, but she did.
She wouldn’t fight him this time. Not like the other night.
Her crappy bed shook violently as he moved off her to grab his jeans and wallet. A few seconds later he was back. She heard the tear of the condom wrapper and the bed moved again as he rolled it on. She squeezed her thighs together in anticipation. The slipperiness between them confirmed she was soaked.
Why did she want him? Why? She didn’t need more complications in her life. She certainly didn’t need them in a man like him.
She had vowed she was done with men like Trip.
And here she was, about to roll over and let him into her life.
“Baby, turn over.” He rose enough to give her the room to do so.
And because he was straddling that area, she hoped he wouldn’t see what she wanted to hide.
The reminder of what she’d lost.
As soon as she rolled over, she curled up and grabbed his face with both hands, falling back to the mattress and pulling him with her.
She took his mouth, while her fingers gripped the wiry hairs of his beard. She swallowed his groan, spread her legs and bent her knees.
He tried to break away, but she held him there. His next groan turned into a growl as he reached between them, lined up his cock and pressed the crown just barely between her folds.
Pushing her hips up, she tried to force him deeper, but he held back, not letting her impale herself.
And that’s what she needed, him to fill her up, to take her completely.
He jerked his beard free of her fingers, which had to hurt. Just as she suspected, he was not going to let her take control. She doubted Trip would ever allow that. And if he did, it would be on his terms, not hers.
With both of his palms planted in the mattress right above her shoulders, he stared down at her, his brown eyes dark.
She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just continued to stare at her, as if almost being able to see her soul.
