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Hell, no.
“I just want to make sure this is what you want.” I know we’re married, but we didn’t get married under normal circumstances. I don’t want us to do something she’ll later regret.
“I’m positive this is what I want.” She runs her thumb along my bottom lip, her eyes confirming that I’m what she wants, what she craves.
“We might want to continue this upstairs.” I nod at the snoozing puppy. “I’ll put him in his crate afterward.”
“Your room or mine?”
“Definitely mine.” For one, I have the queen-sized bed.
We head upstairs, and I close my bedroom door behind us. Then I’m kissing her again. Gently. Reverently. She could have turned her back on me when she witnessed me having a flashback.
She could have told me to get a grip.
She did neither.
I show her with my lips and my hands my gratitude for everything she did downstairs. My fingers explore her soft, sweet-smelling skin and slowly peel her clothes off her. She helps quickly rid me of mine.
She scoots onto my bed, and we lie down, my lips and fingers not once pausing their seduction. I caress her tits and the hard nipples with my hands, and then with my tongue.
Her hands travel over the terrain of my stomach and chest.
My gaze takes in the smooth stretch of her stomach and lands on a four-inch scar on her lower belly. The horizontal scar isn’t jagged like the ones on my shoulder. It’s straight and silvery in the dim light of the room. It’s not the only thing on her stomach that wasn’t there the last time I made love to her. A small flower, like a lily, lies near her right hip. But instead of a leaf, a single wing grows from the stem.
The design is beautiful like the woman whose skin it’s on.
I lean down and kiss the ink. Simone’s breath is a gasp, so small I almost miss it. I glance up. Her eyes are wide and shiny as she watches me.
“Any particular reason you got a tattoo of a flower with a wing?”
She worries her lower lip between her teeth. Then she slowly shakes her head. “I saw the picture on Pinterest and liked it.”
I press my lips on the tattoo once more. “It suits you.” My mouth travels to the faint scar, and I kiss that as well. “What’s this from?” My gaze flicks up to hers.
A tear slides from the corner of her eye and merges with her hairline. And I instantly wish I hadn’t gone there. Seeing Simone cry always leaves my insides knotted.
“It’s nothing. I was involved in an accident years ago. But it’s no big deal.” Her voice cracks with unspoken pain.
“What happened?”
“Honestly, it was nothing, Lucas. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like I said, it happened a long time ago. It’s not important.” She sits up, and her fingers brush the scars on my left shoulder. “What happened here?”
“It’s the reason I was discharged from the military.”
“This is from when you were shot? How did it happen?” Now it’s Simone who’s kissing old scars, and I close my eyes against the memory of how I got the one on my shoulder.
“Doesn’t matter how I got it. It’s the past.”
She nods, and we come to a silent understanding. Our past wounds aren’t up for discussion. We only want to focus on the future. Our future. She kisses the tattoo on my right bicep of a cloud and a thunderbolt. “What’s this for?”
“It symbolizes Zeus and Thor.” Two of Aiden’s favorite gods.
“I bet he would have loved it,” she says, understanding my reason for the tattoo. She kisses it once more, and I resume my careful exploration of her body.
By the time my fingers brush the silken heat between her legs, I’m intimately reacquainted with every part of her.
And Christ, I’ve missed her body.
