Tightening his arms around my waist, he takes the kiss even deeper, giving me everything he couldn’t before—
his promise,
his heart,
and all his love.
EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED. Everything is different—the smell of the air, the color of the leaves, Jordyn and me. I couldn’t be happier. My life has been turned on its axis by a sassy redhead, and somehow, I’ve ended up exactly where I need to be.
I park my bike outside the brownstone. For the last two months, Jordyn and I have been sharing time between her place and Pops’ house. He loves having her there, and so do I.
“Hello, Stiles.” Miss Carol approaches, pulling her shopping buggy behind her. “Coming back from the dojo?” she asks, familiar with my pattern of early morning workouts.
“Yes, ma’am.” I’d misjudged Carol Bates and her son’s intentions. She’s not malicious, just meddlesome. Freddy, the poor bastard, finally made his getaway by finding a job and moving out. I haven’t seen him around much. That, of course, has freed up more time for Miss Carol to pry and offer unsolicited advice, which she just can’t seem to resist doing, no matter how many times she is politely put in her place.
“When are you going to make an honest woman out of Jordyn?” she asks right on cue.
“Jordyn’s as honest as they come.” I wink at her huffy expression of disapproval. “Have a nice day, Mrs. Bates.”
Inside the apartment, I tug off my boots and protective wind gear and head to the bedroom.
Jordyn is still sleeping, curled on her side with the covers over her head. I pause in the doorway. I’d gone four years without letting anyone, except Pops, in. But Jordyn penetrated my shield. I couldn’t block or deflect her, no matter how hard I tried. And I tried hard.
I’d hurt her so much in that battle with myself. And through it all, she hadn’t given up on me. Even after she learned the truth, her belief in me and her love never wavered. Now I get the chance to love her back and spend a lifetime showing her how much she means to me.
I watch Jordyn for a few minutes longer without disturbing her. I know how cranky she gets if awakened early. At rest is the only time she’s not full of energy and motion. Even when sitting, you can see her mind going, her leg bouncing. She’s like the Energizer Bunny, whereas I tend to be still. We’re opposites in many ways—she’s messy, I’m neat; she likes to go out, I’d rather stay home; she’s a chatterbox, I’m quiet; she’s a late riser, I like the crack of dawn. But we’re making it work by respecting those differences and trying to give each other what we need. Relationships aren’t easy. I saw the way my grandparents put in the effort to succeed, in contrast to how my parents were only consumed with destroying each other.
I told them I went to see Lilah, and I told them about Jordyn. I wish I could say they cared, but I think they’re too worn out for anything else to matter. I’ll take Jordyn to meet them one day, because though they may not be perfect, they’re a part of who I am.
I pick up Jordyn’s strewn clothes off the floor and dump them in the hamper, then shave and shower. She’s still out cold. I lift the covers and climb under to curve around her back. Sometimes on a Saturday, after a workout, I’ll go back to sleep for an hour. But I’m too wired to close my eyes. I lay there with her, relishing her warm softness and the closeness that’s now possible for me.
I still experience dark periods, but they are moments rather than constants. I’d thought of having the drakaina tattoo on my arm removed. I’d gotten it soon afterThat Night. The inked dragon was a punishing reminder of what I’d done to Lilah—a permanent stamp of guilt and shame.
I talked to Jordyn to see how she felt about it. She said she would support whatever I thought was right for me. After much contemplation, I decided to keep it. That mark is a part of my imperfect past too. But now, I don’t see only the pain. I see the tattoo through the lens of what dragons symbolize in some cultures: strength and bravery. That’s what drew Lilah to them, that’s what she represents in putting herself back together, and that’s the inspiration I try to draw from to move forward. A wise man—Pops—once said, “Never forget what’s behind you, even the bad things. They’re filled with life lessons to use in your journey ahead.”
Jordyn stirs. I kiss the nape of her neck and glide a hand along her hip and down her thigh.
“Hm.” She rolls over and gives me a drowsy smile and the golden-green medley of her eyes. “Nice way to wake up. Did you go to the dojo?”
“Yeah, for a couple of hours with Max, and I picked up your coffee pods.”
“You’ve been a busy boy.” She strokes my chest. “Got any energy left for me?”
“Always.” I tug her bottom lip between my teeth before kissing her. It leaps from playful to branding. It’s a kiss that goes on and on, that involves our whole mouths and bodies, our entire beings.
I flip Jordyn onto her back. The scent of her skin rises up, misting my mind. I chase the subtlety of it down the line of her throat. I take off her tank top and trace the slope of her strong shoulders with my mouth and the small curves of her breasts, sucking the tight points, making her squirm and pant. I move down the ridges of her torso. I tuck my hands beneath her lower back and lift her to taste and nuzzle her belly. I feel the muscles quiver against my lips and jerk when I press my mouth to the butterfly beneath the elastic of her boxer shorts.
Jordyn’s breaths pour out in an avalanche of need that torches my blood. I catch the waistband with my thumbs and drag her shorts down, lowering myself with them under the cloud of the comforter and the heat of arousal. I nip at her toes and kiss the arches of her feet, her ankles, up her legs and thighs, turning her moans into sobs. When my tongue flicks over her dripping wetness, her sobs become quick, escalating cries.
I dip and lick up her essence. Driven to possess, my tongue plunges, shooting her violently over the edge.
Jordyn cups the back of my head, pushing into my mouth. With heels pressed into the mattress, she unabashedly rides out her pleasure, which turns me on all the more.
Breathing hard, I rise from beneath the covers to look down into her gorgeous, flushed face. “You taste good.” I lick my lips, and Jordyn sits up, sliding her tongue into my mouth while brushing her wicked fingers against my cock, sending a torrid charge through my veins.
She grazes her thumb over the bulbous head and through the leaking slick. I groan roughly against her lips as she uses it for lubricant to stroke my shaft. I thrust into her tight fist. My heart rate accelerates with each pass through the silky vise. I could come just from her kissing and stroking me, but I don’t want it alone.
I ease Jordyn back onto the bed and plant my palms on either side of her head. I love fucking her in every position, but missionary lets me see the ecstasy on her face, the glaze of her eyes, and the roll of her body beneath mine.
