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“Bea,” I manage, the warning barely more than a groan.

Her fingers slide into my hair.

“Don’t stop.”

As if I fucking could. My balls tighten, and I know I can’t hold on any longer.

I thrust once, twice, then everything snaps.

Pleasure tears through me so hard my arms nearly give out. For a few seconds, there’s nothing except her body beneath mine and my pulse hammering everywhere.

Then I become aware that I’m crushing her.

“Shit.” I brace myself on my forearms, still trying to breathe. “You alive, Doc?”

“Barely.”

“Good.”

Her laugh is soft and wrecked, and I kiss it from her mouth.

Afterward, Bea lies sprawled beneath me, both of us breathing hard.

I ease my weight off her and deal with the condom before returning to bed. She immediately curls into my side, as though there was never any question that I would come back.

Her breathing gradually settles against my chest.

When she pulls the sheet up, covering herself, I catch the edge.

“Hey.” I spread my hand over the center of her chest, feeling the steady beat beneath my palm. “You’ve got an incredible body.”

“Oh.” She sounds surprised. “Thank you.”

Bea is tucked against my side, her head on my chest and her hair spread across my skin. The room is dark. The house is silent. Somewhere across town, Luca is keeping everyone out late exactly as promised.

Her hand drifts over my ribs and stops.

I know what she’s found before she says anything.

Three small stars, inked in a straight line low on my left side, hidden whenever I have a shirt on.

Her fingertip moves across them. One. Two. Three.

“What’s this?”

“Orion’s Belt.”

“I didn’t notice it earlier.”

“You were distracted.”

She pinches my side.

“It’s hidden on purpose,” I add.

Her finger returns to the first star. “Why Orion’s Belt?”

I have an answer prepared. Like I do for every tattoo. Polished explanations I’ve repeated in interviews so many times they barely belong to me anymore. The kind that appear beneath headlines like