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I hate the flare of anger that hits me every time I picture her with whoever that guy is. It’s been a week since their first date. How often do they see each other now? Have they kissed? Of course they’ve kissed. Then again, Blaire’s always been more reserved than I am. Maybe she’s not the type to move that fast.

Doesn’t stop the anger twisting in my gut whenever I picture her lips on someone else.

Not that I have any room to talk, especially not while I’m—

Veronica gags hard on my cock, trying to shove too much of it down her throat at once. I loosen my grip on her head and let her come up for air.

“You good?” I chuckle, watching a string of spit drip from her lips onto my balls.

“You’re too big,” she says, a little breathless and giggly.

“Poor thing,” I mock.

Our playful banter only lasts a second before her eyes narrow, zeroing in on my cock like she’s just noticed something that pisses her off.

“What?” I ask, already knowing where this is going.

“You shaved really short,” she says bitterly.

I groan. “Please not this again. Just ignore it.”

“Hard to ignore when you have your ex’s name tattooed across your dick.” She drops my now-softening erection and leans back on her heels, crossing her arms over her bare chest. The sight does absolutely nothing for me.

“It’s not on my dick,” I scoff, gripping my dick to keep the condom from sliding off as it softens. “It’s on my mons pubis, technically.”

“Whatever. Close enough. Why the fuck would you even get a tattoo there?”

“I was eighteen, in love, and couldn’t have visible tattoos for the job. Seemed romantic at the time.”

“Well, you could at least get it removed or covered up.”

I exhale slowly. We’ve had almost this exact conversation every time I trim short enough for the ink to show. I’ve had it with nearly every woman I’ve slept with since Blaire. I usually prefer to stay completely bare, but Veronica throws a fit about it, and I don’t hate the hair enough to keep dealing with the argument.

“Are we going to fight again or are you going to let me fuck you?” I ask plainly, looking down at her.

She keeps the pissed-off expression for another second, then huffs and leans forward again, wrapping her hand around me. I close my eyes and try to focus on the feeling of her mouth instead of the name still inked into my skin.

Veronica wraps her hand around me again and leans in, taking me back into her mouth with a little more determination this time. I close my eyes and try to focus on the wet heat of her tongue, the way her hand works what she can’t fit. It feels good—physically, at least—but my head won’t shut the fuck up.

Every time she pulls back far enough, I catch a glimpse of the ink just above my cock. Blaire. The letters are still just as dark and visible as the day I got it, placed where only someone who got this close would ever see them. I got it when I was eighteen before my first deployment. Blaire had been worried that I would cheat, I’d gotten the tattoo as a promise that no one else would ever touch what belonged to her.

Veronica makes a soft sound around me, and I thread my fingers through her hair again, guiding her gently. She relaxes into it, and I let myself sink into the sensation, hips rocking forward in a slow rhythm. For a few seconds I almost manage to stay present.

Then my brain betrays me.

I picture Blaire on her knees like this, the way she used to look up at me with those dark eyes, the little noises she’d make when I got too rough. I picture her with someone else, doing the same thing, and the image hits like a punch to the gut. My rhythm falters.

Veronica pulls off with a wet sound, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You okay?” Veronica asks, voice a little hoarse as she pulls off me.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Just wanna get inside you.”

Her eyes light up at that, and she’s quick to roll onto her back, spreading her legs for me like the conversation is already forgotten. I slide off the bed and grab a new condom from the nightstand drawer, tossing the old off to the side.

She groans, the sound turning irritated. “What did I get on birth control for if you’re going to use condoms anyway?”

I scoff as I tear the foil open and roll the latex down my length. “Birth control isn’t 100% and I don’t like the risk.”