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“I’m serious,” he goes on. “When I was overseas and saw friends pass away, I told myself there was nothing at work. Just bullets and blood and the chaos of battle.”
“You don’t talk much about that stuff,” I murmur.
He shrugs. “Maybe I will one day. I don’t see much use in it. I got out alive and carried on serving. I was a good Marine but knew great Marines who didn’t make it. I’m lucky, not just because I made it out alive, but because my mind did too. I don’t wake up with night terrors. I don’t flinch when a car backfires.”
“Is that luck?” I ask. “Or is that you?”
“It’s luck,” he growls. “Some tougher men than me have to deal with that stuff.”
He pauses, stroking his hand across my cheek, then adjusting my braid, draping it over my shoulder.
“When I saw you, I started believing in fate. There’s no other way I can explain this sudden feeling, this certainty, this fire inside.”
“That’s it for me,” I tell him. “I never believed in fate… until the crush started. When I was crushing hard, I told myself we were destined to be together. Kelly would roll her eyes. She’s never been very superstitious, but now, here, it’s like it confirms it. We are meant to be together. I was right, waiting for you all those years.”
He nods, but I can tell something is making him uncomfortable. It’s in the tightening of his mouth.
“What is it?” I press.
“Just what I said. I don’t like thinking of you as a kid… waiting for me or anything else. Us, here, now… That’s all that matters.”
“But you can understand where I’m coming from, right?”
He brings his lips to mine and kisses me briefly with surprising gentleness. “I can, and I’m going to do my best to live up to your crush every day for the rest of our lives.”
We kiss again, my hands smoothing his bare shoulders and spreading down his back. His manhood gets hard almost straightaway, and we begin to rock together, his length grinding through my dress against my sex.
“We’re never going to get this tattoo done, are we?” I say breathlessly.
He grins tightly.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
Squeezing my hips, he shakes his head. “Nothing could be wrong when I’m holding my woman. You’re so curvy, so perfect.”
I glow with the compliment. “But something is up.”
“If we carry on, I won’t be able to stop. It’s difficult enough not to claim you right here, to lay you on the chair and pull that dress up, tear your panties off, and then…”
He laughs savagely.
I slip off the chair. “There? That better?”
He darts his hands out, grabbing my hips. “This is better, but I think before we tell Roger…”
When he lets his hands drop, I step back, nodding. “I get it. We shouldn’t go all the way until we know it’s forever. Anyway, this is going to be my first time. I’d prefer somewhere a little more…”
“Special, like you deserve. I get it.”
“It’s not that I think I deserve some five-star suite or something, but a bed might be nice.”
He stands abruptly and sweeps me into his arms. I prop my hands against his chest, fingernails bending against his solid muscles.
“You deserve the world,” he growls. “Forget five stars. You deserve ten, twenty.”
I laugh in delight. “I don’t think they go up that high.”
“Then they need to make a whole new system just for you.”
We kiss again for a long time, but then he steps back.
“I meant what I said. You drive me crazy. Goddamn feral.”
“Shall we get this done, then?” I say.
He returns to the table, and I pick up the tattoo gun.
“Remember, nothing else exists. Just the tattoo. Just your art.”
I cradle his words close to my heart, trying to convince myself this isn’t the hugest deal of my life. I’m about to tattoo my crush.
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
Brian
She holds the mirror up. I look over my shoulder, studying the ninja star, grinning when I think of Starman.
“You like it?” she says, the hand mirror shaking slightly as her nerves work through her perfect body, up her perfect arm, and into her perfect hand. With her other hand, she toys with her braid, fiddling with the scrunchie at the end of it.
“It’s…” Here’s that word again. “Perfect. It’s just how I imagined it would be.”
“Really?” she says.
I turn, taking her hand, holding it gently on purpose. I meant what I said to her. I’ll claim her right here if I let myself go too much and give in hungrily to the desire within. I won’t give my virgin what she deserves, candles, silk sheets, and luxuries to wordlessly tell her she’s worth the world.
No, instead, I’ll let the savage in me take over. I’ll grab her thick thighs through the dress and squeeze until she moans lustfully. Then I’ll slide my hands between her legs and start palming her pussy, just long enough until she’s soaked for my cock.
