Chapter 3
3
“ A re you serious?” Rex bolted upright, ripping the covers from their bodies. He reached across her and flicked on the reading lamp. “You’ve got this on your neck?” He tapped the tattoo he’d gotten right before they graduated from high school. The intention had been that they would both get the tattoo, but after watching the needles dig into his arm, Tilly had chickened out. He couldn’t blame her. It did hurt, and the smell of burning flesh was an acquired taste. “When?”
“About seven years ago.” She sat up and rubbed the back of her neck, her hair flowing over her shoulders. “I’d finished my initial service for the Peace Corps and extended my stay. I went home for a week for a family wedding, and I found a box of stuff from high school. The drawing we took to the guy who did yours was there, and I remembered my promise. So, I got it.”
He ignored the fact that the wedding she referred to had been his mother's to her father, a thought that still weirded him out on so many levels. “Can I see it?” His pulse raced faster than the first time he’d run into a burning building. Of course, the second he’d crossed the threshold, he didn’t notice his heartbeat, and his training kicked in.
No one had ever trained him on how to deal with an ex-girlfriend who fulfilled a promise long after the relationship ended, never telling him about it either.
She turned, raising her hair up, exposing the back of her neck and a matching tattoo.
“Why? Why did you do that?” He reached out with a shaky hand, his index finger hovering over the letters. He recoiled when she let her hair fall. The wavy locks bounced over her shoulders.
“I don’t know. Maybe in a weird way, I thought I owed it to you. Or maybe it was closure.”
He pushed her hair to the side, unmasking the symbol that once represented their undying love. He inched closer, studying the design. “This is a little different than mine.”
“No, it’s not.” She tried to turn, but he grabbed her arms, holding her steady.
“What’s this?” He followed the lines—there were letters etched in the lining of one of the hearts— R K J . “My initials?” His throat dropped to his stomach. A woman didn’t permanently scar her skin with a man’s name when she was looking for closure.
She cleared her throat, smoothing down her hair as she scooted to the edge of the bed. “I was feeling sentimental.”
“Seriously? You tattooed my initials into your neck over an emotional moment about the past?”
She sprang from the bed, her head hitting the low ceiling.
“Shit,” she whispered, sitting back down.
“Are you okay?” He palmed her shoulder, his fingers tangling in her soft hair.
“My head is fine, but I’m not.” She shrugged his arm off. “It wasn’t an emotional moment, as you called it. You’re a huge part of my past, and I wanted something from that time. My dad and your mom had just gotten married and?—”
“And their union made you want to engrave me on your neck?”
“I’m sorry this is freaking you out.”
“I’m not the one who just leaped from the bed.” He patted the mattress. “I am, however, very curious.” He was more than curious. He was utterly fascinated, not to mention it inflated his bruised ego when it came to how easily Tilly let him walk away. For the first time in ten years, he felt connected to the past that had ultimately betrayed him in the worst way.
“I never had any intention of telling you.” She pulled her hair to the side, twirling it in her hands as she leaned back against the headboard. “I thought if I got the tattoo, I would be able to prove to myself that I was finally over you leaving me. The initials I had done a year later when I got the butterflies.”
“So, I was an afterthought,” he mumbled, unsure of the sensations swirling in his gut. He positioned himself next to her, their arms touching ever so slightly, but enough that it generated the kind of raw heat that reminded him she was every bit a woman.
“I wouldn’t say an afterthought, exactly. I really don’t know how to explain it all without sounding like a crazy, psycho ex-girlfriend.”
“Yeah, it’s a little nuts.” His thoughts bounced through his past like a rubber ball from one memory to the next, landing on the last time he saw her and the utter pain it had put in his soul. He didn’t deny that she felt it too. He never had. But she chose everything but him and that hurt more than what his mother had done.
“Trust me, I know. But getting over you dumping me was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“Harder than living in a third-world country?” he asked. Dumbass question, but the mood was too intense, and he needed a little lightness to get through it. “And I need to clear up one thing. I didn’t dump you.”
“Oh my God. Yes, you did. Why can’t you admit it? Sometimes you are most definitely more stubborn than I am.”
“That’s impossible and I’ll agree that we both called it quits.” Everything she’d ever meant to him came crashing down on his heart, squeezing his life out. For years, he’d been telling himself that he didn’t need or even want her. But the ugly truth was he’d never gotten over the fact that she’d never chased after him. Never called him or looked for him. A childish thing to hold on to, but it still hurt as much as how his mother scolded him for telling his father what he’d seen before she got a chance to do it herself. His mother made it clear it was her life and he had no right butting in.
Only it affected everything he’d done from that day forward.
Now, to find out, Tilly had done the one thing she couldn’t do when they were together, years after they broke up. While a sweet gesture, it was odd, especially when he believed her life had gone on without her ever thinking twice about him or what they could have been.
He also no longer knew what to think about his inability to call her over the years. Not once did he ever think that she, or his mother for that matter, was hurting like he had been. His mother’s letters, while she begged for his forgiveness and told him how much she missed him, were all about how happy she was. How happy the whole family was.
Without him.
That was the underlying message and it was a hard pill to swallow.
“You didn’t give us a chance,” she said. Her dark-blue eyes captured his gaze, holding him hostage.
“You told me if I left, we were done.”
“Only after you said that if I loved you, I’d drop out of college and run off with you, turning my back on my family.”
He lay down, resting his head on her thighs, looking up at her. “You were always a stubborn mule.”
“I still am,” she said, smiling, running her fingers through his hair. “But so were you.”
“Tell me something. Did you wear those heels and dress to get me all hot and bothered so you could get me to do what you wanted?”
“What do you think?”
“You could make a pair of ratty old gym shorts look sexy.” He reached up, cupping the back of her neck, rolling his thumb in a tiny circle just behind her earlobe, drawing her plump, luscious lips closer to his.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m getting ready to kiss you.”
“You promised you’d keep your hands to yourself.” Her pink tongue darted out, rolling across her mouth in an exotic ritual.
He lifted his head, getting lost in her sea-blue eyes. “I can roll over right now and go to sleep, or I can do something as crazy as tattooing your initials on my arm.”
Her hot breath covered his face in a warm blanket. “Us being together isn’t a good idea.”
“I know. But it seems like we both need something so we can move forward.”
She arched a brow. “Are you suggesting we have one last romp in the sack as a way to get some sort of resolution to the way we ended things ten years ago?”
“Either that, or I could go get T A B tattooed in my hearts.”
“You could, but you won’t.”
“You know how I appreciate a good dare,” he said, enjoying how easily they fell into their old banter, like the ten years was more like ten days. “How about we stop talking.” He took her mouth in a tender, deep, passionate kiss, probing every succulent crevice.
Her hands glided across his chest as she sprawled out next to him. Their lovemaking had always been filled with a combination of delicate compassion and a raw craving that left them breathless. Not a single woman since had satisfied his appetite the way she had. Sure, he’d had some great sex with some really hot women, but they didn’t make his blood turn to smoldering lava.
His hands roamed her body, feeling every soft curve. All he wanted was to feel her warm skin against his. Lifting her shirt up, he ducked his head into the crevice of her neck, kissing and nibbling on her earlobe. He palmed her breast, enjoying her soft moans.
His body told him to devour every inch of her.
His brain whispered to stop.
His heart begged him to stand up and go sleep on the extremely uncomfortable sofa.
He jerked his head back, staring down at her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, ignoring his heart. She couldn’t hurt him anymore. They weren’t destined to be together, and after this trip home to give closure to his mother, Tilly would walk out of his life again.
No. He’d walk out of hers.
Slipping his hand into her cotton panties, he cupped her smooth, bare sex, circling his fingers over her hard nub.
She arched her back, raising her breasts to his mouth. Her hips rolled slowly against his palm. He remembered every inch of her body and knew exactly what it craved. He teased her, nibbling on her nipples, slowly sliding his finger in and out. She tried to get him to increase the speed and pressure, but he kept his strokes deliberate and soft.
Teasing her to the brink of begging had always been a pleasure he’d never quite been able to capture again.
In one swift motion, he yanked her underwear to her ankles, tossing them across the room. He stared at her shaven womanhood that glistened with desire. Cupping both her breasts, he bent over, first breathing on her before licking gently.
She clutched his head, pushing him against her.
“Please, don’t torture me. I can’t take it.”
“But it’s half the fun.” He pulled back just enough to continue brushing his lips and tongue gently across her soft sex. She smelled like bottled sunshine and tasted like a warm day on the beach with a tinge of salt in the air.
Her fingers dug into his scalp as she arched her back, raising her hips higher.
He pinched and twisted her nipples, enjoying her deep throaty groans.
“Jesus, would you just do it,” she said in a pant.
He smiled against her, clamping his mouth over her, sucking on her hard nub until she dug her ankles into his back. Her body jerked and thrashed about the bed, legs squeezing his head, and her creamy climax spilled out, coating his mouth and fingers, igniting a deep burn across his skin.
He had to have her. Right now. He couldn’t wait.
He kissed the inside of her thigh, making his way down her long, silky legs. Standing, he removed his shorts and found a condom. He held the foil wrapper up to his mouth, preparing to tear it with his teeth.
She’d propped up on her elbows, knees bent, staring at him with a mischievous smile. “You know what I want now.”
“Seriously? You still have to do that? Every time you have sex?”
She cocked her head. “Don’t all women?”
He wished. “Not the ones I’ve met.”
“Well, sex shouldn’t happen without it.”
He tossed the condom on the bed. “Do with me what you want. I’m not going to complain.”
“Never complain, only beg me to stop.”
“Yeah, in about three seconds, unless you want this to end with oral.”
“That would be a travesty,” she whispered.
He sucked in a breath, gritting his teeth as she took him in her soft hands, gliding them up and down. Her tongue swirled over the top, taking just the tip into her mouth.
He hissed as she squeezed his shaft, cupping him, easing him into her mouth with her hot lips. He used to tease her about her insatiable appetite for giving blow jobs. The first one she’d ever given, he swore she had to be lying that she’d never done it before. The way she admired him as she toyed with him, bringing him the kind of pleasure that made a man weak at his knees.
He let out a long guttural groan, clenching his fists, doing his best not to grab her head and slam deep inside her mouth. Though he knew from past experience she wouldn’t be opposed, that is not how he wanted this to end.
“You’ve got to stop,” he ground out, swelling inside her, on the verge of losing all control.
She reached for the condom, tearing it open with her teeth.
“Christ, that is so hot,” he said.
She smiled, rolling the barrier over his length. “So, your favorite or mine?”
“Yours.” He might last a little longer that way, saving himself some embarrassment of acting like a horny teenager who climaxed the second he was touched.
She raised up on her knees, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pressing her lips against his. “Get on your back, Rex,” she whispered. She’d never been afraid to express herself or ask for what she wanted, needed.
Who was he to deny her?
She straddled him, resting her sex against his. She rubbed her clit gently over him while she plucked at her nipples, biting her lower lip. Gliding one hand down her stomach, she flicked her fingers across herself, scraping her nails against his sensitive skin.
He grabbed her hips, moving them back and forth slightly, creating more friction where she needed it most. Biting down on the inside of his mouth, he held on to her so tight he worried he bruised her delicate skin. Her moans grew louder and her movements harder and faster until she rose up slightly, taking him inside.
He thrust his hips up, holding her over him for a long moment before repeating the motion. She tightened around him. “Yes,” she said in a long moan, drenching him with her hot climax. She dropped her hands to his chest, her hair spilling over his face and body. “Rex,” she whispered, grinding as he thrust inside her. He grunted as he flipped her on her back, ramming himself deep inside, burying his face in her neck as his body rippled with the kind of pleasure only she could give him.
He jerked, and his stomach twitched as he collapsed on top of her, their chests heaving up and down, breathless. He kissed her neck and earlobe.
Making love to her again didn’t bring him closure. It only reminded him of why he loved her in the first place. It rattled his mind and opened the burning hole in his heart.
He rolled to the left because God forbid, she didn’t have the right side of the bed and pulled the covers over their bodies. Holding her close, he did his best to push the slew of emotions back inside the little box he’d carried them in for all these years.
It was where they belonged and where he would need to keep them if he was ever going to get through this visit with his family. He wouldn’t regret this. He couldn’t.
He kissed her temple, snuggling up to her backside. He’d hold her all night. Like old times.
He’d allow himself this one little look into the past.
And then he’d sew up his heart and go on with his life.