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"I suck," he mused, hands moving to rest on my thighs. "I be gentleman, no?"
"Don’t throw my words back at me," I grumbled, feeling thoroughly annoyed. "I'm so pissed off with you right now."
"Grow the patience,mi reina," he chuckled, not one bit fazed by my anger. "Now –" Clamping his large hands around my waist, he lifted me off his lap and set me down next to him. "It is Ashton turn to learn."
"My turn?" I questioned, watching him carefully. "Español?"
A small smile ghosted his full lips. "Not today,corderito."
A reluctant flurry of excitement burst to life inside of me when I watched Trig climb off the bed and drag the familiar steel case out from beneath it.
"Come," he ordered, setting the case on his desk and clicking the lid open. "You choose."
Springing off the bed, I practically bounced over to him, feeling a swell of complicated, over-heated feelings fester inside of me.
"Really?" I breathed, peering around his big body, gaze locked on the impressive array of weapons. "Me?"
"Sí," he confirmed gruffly.
Grabbing my hip, he pulled me closer to stand in front of him.
"Choose,mi reina," he whispered, breath fanning my cheek, as his big chest brushed against my back. "Ladies, as they say, come first."
Settling on the pretty, silver dagger, I carefully lifted it up and turned to face him. "I hope you're ready for this,mi rey."
Trigger grinned down at me. "Do your worst,mi reina."
Thirty minutes later, I was huffing, puffing, and seriously out of breath.
"Faster," he commanded, ducking and dodging my attack. "Arms up. Move your feet," he ordered, easily dodging my killer blow. "You fight like a girl."
"Iama girl," I growled, hunching on the balls of my feet and then pouncing for his throat.
He knocked me away with one arm and chuckled when my dagger clattered across the floor.
Landing on my butt with a loud ooof, I narrowed my eyes and glared up at him. "That wasn't the act of a gentleman."
"You do not live in a world of gentlemen. You are a lamb living in the wolves' den," he replied, leaning close to press a kiss to the tip of my nose. My eyelids fluttered closed at the contact. "You must become the predator and not the prey…"
The moonlight shining through the window illuminated the tattoos etched across his broad, tanned back and I repressed a shiver, pushing my memories aside.
From the age of ten to seventeen, when he left me, I had consistently stared at Trigger Laperro's back – his whole body, to be exact.
When I first met him, his skin was mostly ink free, but as the years passed by, the tattoos had slowly accumulated to the point where he was nowcovered.
His back.
His chest.
His arms.
His neck.
His thighs.
Everywhere…
Blinking back my tears, I glared at the face of the inked devil staring back at me, the tattoo that covered the scars I knew were hidden underneath, before dropping my gaze to the words written across his lower back.
