“What does your tattoo mean?” We have just finished another rough round of the best sex I have ever had. New rule, any man I sleep with must have the trifecta of vaginal bliss. When the steel of his base piercing hits my clit, I can see angels singing in the heavens.
He is relaxed on his back with his arm slung over his head, and the tattoo I haven’t noticed before is on full display. I have been running my fingers softly over the ink for a few minutes, watching his skin prickle with every stroke. I’ve never seen something so simple be this moving, breathtaking. There has to be at least twenty small black birds that start at his hip and fly around to his back where I assume they end around his shoulder. Intertwined in the birds are the words ‘Free Yourself, Gracefully’. It can’t be a coincidence the only part written in an elegant script is the word ‘Grace’.
He brings his other hand over and absentmindedly runs his fingers over the last word on his ribs. “It’s for my sister, Grace.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but continues to trace his fingers over her name.
“How long ago?” I don’t need to say more; he knows what I mean.
“Almost ten years.” He rolls on to his side and props his head onto his hand. “I was overseas when I got the call.”
“Jesus… I’m sorry, Greg. I know that doesn’t mean anything, but trust me when I say I know how you feel.” I don’t talk about my sister. Not even to my mother who knows exactly what I feel. I just haven’t been ready. Even now, almost two years later, it still crushes me to know that she won’t ever be there again.
‘Beauty,” he says, running one of his fingers down my face. “I have felt the pain of losing her for so long now, and not once have I met someone who could feel this. Want to give me more than that?”
“Not really… but I will,” I rush to get out when I see him start to pull back. Not physically. No physically, he is very much here but his eyes lose the light. “My sister. I lost her coming up two years ago.”
I flip to my stomach and move my hair out of the way. In the center of my shoulder blades is a single feather with a bird flying out from a fracture in the tip. Underneath the feather in tiny script are the words ‘Take this broken wing and learn to fly’.
“Kind of weird how close our ink is.” I say, trying to lighten the moment, but really, how can you make light of this shit.
“Grace would have loved you. Not many people would give me shit.” His lips ghost over my ink before I feel him move away. “She was only twenty-five when she died. I didn’t get the call for almost a week, a week she was gone and I had no clue that my other half…” He stops talking and visibly composes himself. “I felt it. People are always skeptical of the twin connection, but I felt it. It was almost like the string that connected us had snapped. Didn’t know it at the time, being that I was in the middle of a battlefield but looking back, I felt it.”
“How did she pass?”
“She was murdered.” I gasp, the sound echoing around the room, but he doesn’t even look at me. He is clearly lost in the memory. “The bastard she was married to fucked with her car. The only peace I have is that she didn’t suffer in the end. Married to that piece of shit for almost five years and I didn’t have a fucking clue he was beating her until it was too late.”
“What?” I whisper, shocked at the sound of my own voice. I sit up swiftly and just look at him, “What did you just say?”
“Fuck, I didn’t mean to get heavy, babe. Really. It’s been so long since I talked about her, I just lost myself for a second there.”
“He hurt her?”
He sighs deeply. “Yeah, Beauty… he hurt her.”
“Fia, my sister, her husband… her husband hurt her too. Only difference was I knew; I knew and I didn’t do shit because she wouldn’t let me!” His arms wrap around me and pull me close to his body. I know I haven’t dealt well with Sofia’s death. Brushing it under the rug and marching on seems to be working, and who am I to mess with what works. My strong exterior has become who I am but deep down inside, I just want to let it all out. Scream, yell, and freak the hell out that I will never see her again.
I tried, for years to get her to leave that bastard. Every time, she would just brush it off. Then she had Cohen and nothing would get her to leave. I begged, oh how I begged. “She kept saying she was okay! How is your husband beating you o-fucking-kay?”
“You never dealt with this shit.” Not a question. I go from sated to fucked up in the blink of an eye. Hello! Poster child for fucked in the head, right here!
“You know what’s fucked up? I begged her, I begged her, and in the end, she fucking shot the bastard. She shot him, but not before he got to her first.” He goes solid under me for a few seconds but I am too far into my memories to even process what makes him tense up. “Cohen was asleep upstairs.”
“Cohen?” His voice sounds off, almost strained.
“My nephew. Coolest kid in the world.”
“Nephew?” I turn to look at him when his tone finally registers.
“Yeah, Cohen. What is that look for?” He looks like he swallowed something sour. I know he likes kids, so it shouldn’t be an issue that I have a nephew… Jesus. Could it be possible that I misjudged this man?
He is silent for a while, just looking into my eyes. I can tell he wants to say something; the emotion behind his eyes is one I haven’t seen before, almost as if he is worried but pissed at the same time.
“What is going on with you?” I finally break the silence.
He shakes his head and brings his mouth forward to meet mine. “Nothing.” He offers a few small kisses against my lips before pulling back and looking into my eyes. “Nothing, just thinking. I don’t know why we crossed paths, but I can’t ignore the feeling that it was for a reason.”
“You aren’t what I expected,” I tell him.
“Right back at you, babe.”
When his mouth settles against mine again, I pull him close and dive in headfirst. Before, this was all about the game. Enjoy him while I can and stay away from any kind of attachment. But now, I feel like it would be impossible to walk away. He knows; this man knows how it feels to lose someone you love. In the small amount of time we have known each other I can tell he won’t be like Fia’s husband. No, not Greg. This man screams white knight.
When he settles his hips against mine and sinks deep, the last coherent thought that filters through my mind is that I want him to be my white knight. I want him to save me from me.
We finally fall asleep when the sun starts to climb. We have sweat-covered bodies and intertwined limbs. My body is deliciously sore and still craves more of what he can give me. He has taken me twice since our talk. Twice, and the sex just keeps getting better and better. This man, oh this man knows what he is doing.
I am lying between his arms and enjoying the feeling of his hard body against mine, while trying to figure out what woke me from my deep slumber. My mind is still a foggy mess from the night before and the exhaustion is hard to shake off.
“What the hell is that noise?” He mumbles into my neck, squeezing me tighter.
“I think it’s your phone?” I ask and wiggle my ass against his hardening erection.
When the noise finally stops, he rolls me over and covers my body with his. “Good morning,” he says with a smile.
“Good morning.” He moves to kiss me but I turn my head and cover my mouth with my hand. “No way! Morning breath!” I laugh into my palm.
“I don’t care.” He trails his lips down my exposed neck and nips his way to my breast. How can I argue with a man that is determined? And if I’m honest with myself, I don’t want to. My body has been demanding his since the last time he pulled out.
“Spend the day here. I know you are all ‘Miss Independent’ and shit, but stay, please.” Looking into his blue eyes and his wide smile, I know it isn’t possible to tell him no. All my previous misgivings have fled, and the only thing that is left is the desire to see what exactly is going to happen with this thing between us.
“Yeah, I’ll stay… if you make it worth it.”
If possible, his smile gets even larger. He throws his head back and laugh. “I think we can arrange that.” He reaches over, grabs another condom from the edge of the bed, pulls up to his knees, and offers me a wink before stroking his cock a few times. His eyes never leave mine when he rolls the condom slowly down his length.
“Tell me how bad you want my dick.” He commands.
His eyes are burning so bright and the wicked promise I see in them has me answering without hesitation, “I want your dick. I want your dick bad, baby.”
In a flash, he is covering my body and is stretching my sex wide with his slow entry. Our mouths fuse together; his tongue dances with mine. Each time we come together, it’s hard and fast, but this is something else. I could feel him, every inch of him. It feels as if we are not just physically, but also mentally marking each other. Right down to our souls.
Powerful.
I might not be ready to completely admit it, but this connection isn’t something we will be able to ignore.
When he sinks deep and rolls his hips, I think I am going to pass out. The rings in his dick add to the increasing pleasure, the one hugging my swollen clit sends shocks of pleasure pulsing from my center in waves.
He slows his attack of my mouth and with a few small kisses, pulls back, and looks into my eyes. “Never. Felt. This. Good,” he whispers against my lips, his slow thrusting bringing each word home. With one more kiss, he lifts his body from mine and bends his head to look down to where we join. I follow his gaze and watch as he slowly pushes deep, pulls out, and then repeats. There is something so erotic about watching him take me.
When his eyes come back up and meet mine, one side of his mouth lifts and his handsome features relax with pleasure as my body tightens around his. His lets out a strangled moan, closing his eyes slightly. “Love seeing you taking my dick. Soaked, baby.” He pulls out, keeping his torturous pace, and pauses briefly before slamming deep. “Goddamn, feels so fucking good.”
I vaguely hear the sound again that woke us up in the background, but when his hips rotate, and swirls of ecstasy start to take over my body, my mind no longer cares. My hips rise from the bed to meet his, his hands curl around my shoulders and use his hold to pick up his speed; the pleasure is almost too much to take. I wrap my legs lightly around his back and press my heels into his ass, silently pleading for him to take me even harder.
By the time both climb high and are about to push over, we are both covered in sweat and breathing like we’ve run a marathon. My fingers claw at his back and his teeth latch to my shoulder. It is raw, hard, and so fucking good that I never want it to end.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“God, YES!” I scream and with a few more rolls of his hips, we both find our release. My vision goes black for a few seconds and those damn angels in heaven are singing again.
He rolls to his back, taking me with him. His breathing is just slowing down when the phone next to his head starts ringing.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he rumbles under my ear. Reaching over, he snatches the phone off the cradle and barks a nasty, “What?”
He is silent for a while, offering a few gruff manly grunts and then disconnects. “Gotta take care of this shit real quick, babe,” he says softly with only a small bite left to his tone. Apparently, his anger at the caller has diminished slightly. At least he doesn’t direct it at me. “Go run a bath and I’ll be right back, yeah? Need to go down to the gates and help out a situation.”
My body is still enjoying the blissful state he just put me in, so it takes me a second to understand he is leaving. But, he said he would be back, and that is good enough for now.
I roll to my side and watch him hastily pull on some sweats and a faded USMC tee shirt. “Be back, Beauty.” With a small smile and a kiss, he takes off out the door. I stretch and look up at the ceiling.
It seems strange that we are this comfortable with each other after only knowing each other for a few days, but there is a connection there that is hard to ignore. Still, a small part of me worries that he might be hiding something. I have spent more years than I can remember during and after Fia’s death feeling like all men are evil. But my gut, my gut is telling me to stick this one out… to trust this man. For now, I plan to just enjoy life and live it day to day the best I can.
With a vow to give this guy a chance, I jump out of bed and take off for the promised bath.