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The irritated skin has already cooled, but my blood is heating, and I can’t take any more.
“Okay.” I pull my hand away and hope he doesn’t notice how breathy I sound.
My eyes are still closed, and I wait for him to stand, to leave, but he doesn’t.
There’s movement. The sound of rustling clothes and the jar being… set back down on the nightstand?
I crack my eyes open.
And then they widen all the way.
“What…?” I sit up and shove at Dominic’s arm. “What is that?”
His shirt is unbuttoned, and he runs his ointment-covered fingers across his neck one last time before he lets me push his arm down.
“Dominic!” I gasp.
“You were right, Angel. It’s only fair.”
I blink. And blink again.
“Just the one?” I ask, not able to help myself.
“But it’s big.” Dom smirks. “And size matters.”
I lean closer, shaking my head while I stare at the giant name tattooed across the base of his neck.
My name.
Valentine. In big black letters.
Not able to stop myself, I reach out and trace theV.
It’s the same font that was used on me.
“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” I whisper, even as I trace theAand theL.
“Of course not.” His voice is quiet, too.
I hadn’t even noticed he had a strip of bare skin left, but it fits perfectly.
When I get to the center line of theE, I trace it, then drag my finger across the rest of the letters.
“I still don’t forgive you.” My finger slides down the center of his chest, stopping on the skull.
“You shouldn’t.”
I drop my hand down onto my lap. “I’m going to go to sleep now.”
“You probably should.”
I don’t actually expect him to leave me alone, so I’m surprised when he stands.
But he doesn’t leave the room or get into bed. He grabs the jar off the nightstand, then backs up to the armchair in the corner of the room.
He sets the jar down on the armrest, then takes his shirt off the rest of the way.
And his belt.
