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“It’s a symbol of your name,” I whisper.
He smirks. “Warlike. You remembered.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Marco told me all those years ago that his name means ‘warlike’ or ‘warring.’ He’d said he felt his parents created his destiny when they named him that. Alternatively, his twin Massimo’s name meant ‘biggest,’ ‘greatest’.
“Why would you want to remember that?” he asked.
“To always keep a part of you with me. You are a warrior, Marco. Besides, it’s what you do to me,” I reply, sliding back from him.
He grabs his penis and staggers to the wall where the tattooing supplies are set up. I fix my clothes as he removes the condom with a paper towel before he pulls his pants up.
“What’s that?”
“You keep me at war with myself, Marco. I know we’re no good for each other, and I promise to stay away from you. That promise flies out of the window the minute I see you.”
He’s back at my side, fingering the bandage again. “I never meant to break your heart.”
“Yeah? We all have good intentions, Marco. You never—”
He stops me midsentence by placing his hand against my lips. “Shhh.”
The frown that mars his face tells me something is wrong as he cocks his head a little.
“Someone else got the key to this place?” he asks.
My mind races frantically.
“Shit! Kenneth!”
“Your fiancé?”
“Yes. Lay on the bed on your side,” I whisper, grabbing a can of disinfectant spray and spraying the room.
“Why?” Marco grunts.
I glance at him, knowing he’s ready for a confrontation. Marco isn’t the type of man to avoid a confrontation and will stand strong against the repercussions. I don’t know if I can, though.
“Stay here and trust me. Please...lay on the bed,” I whisper, rushing to the door.
I throw a pleading glance in his direction, and though his nostrils are flared and his jaw is clenched, he does what I ask of him. I slip out of the door closing it behind me.
“Kenneth!” I say, forcing a smile to my lips and the nervousness out of my voice.
He grabs me and pulls me close to him before kissing my lips. “Thought I’d drop by your place to surprise you, but when I didn’t see you there, I came here instead. Figured you were working late.”
“Umm...yeah. A client needed a later appointment because of a late work schedule.”
“She in there?” he asks, nodding towards the closed door.
“Um, yes.He’sin there.”
“He?” Kenneth asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“Yes. He.”
“I thought that room was for tattoos in intimate spots.”
