“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he said with a grin when he saw me peeking. “You know, ’cause last night I was…um…”
“What do your tattoos mean?” I asked, avoiding the question of whether or not he should be nude next to me in the bed. Because if I’d had my preference, I would have told him to strip off right then and there. I needed something else to think about to calm down the situation between my legs. I had a flash of him working against me, gave a shudder as a ghost-orgasm thrilled up my spine.Just sleep, I reminded myself. I was in the bed to feel safe and to sleep.
That was all.
Teo pulled back the covers to get in on his side. “In my line of work we get a lot of scars. I figured I could look at them every day in the mirror or look at something more fun. So I inked the worst of ’em.”
There was a daisy chain running down his arm, the center of each daisy a raised small bump. “What happened there?” I asked, reaching out to touch it.
He yanked his arm away.
“Sorry,” I spluttered.
He twisted his mouth to one side, then said, “It’s okay,” and slowly gave his arm over to me to inspect. “It’s just… Those ones still hurt a bit.”
I didn’t see how they could. They looked very old to me, the ink greening with age. It didn’t look like a professional job, either.
“Did you get these done in jail?” I hazarded a guess.
He chuckled. “No.”
“Have you…everbeento jail?”
He shrugged. “Just juvie, and not for long. My cousin Snapper took care of me once I came of age, after my father died, so there’d be no chance of getting locked up. He knew I had to take care of my family. Anyways, nah, my sister Marietta did that one.“
I smoothed my fingers over the chain of daisies again. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“No need to be.”
“I’m sorry about last night,” I blurted out.
He raised one eyebrow. “Was it that bad?”
“No. Heck, no, it was…” I broke off and cleared my throat. “It was incredible.”
“Then what’re you sorry about?” He leaned over and turned off the lamp on his nightstand. “Well,” came his voice out of the darkness. “G’night.”
My hand was still on his left arm. His skin was warm and softly furred under my palm, and I stayed as still as I could, as though maybe he wouldn’t notice if I were still enough, maybe he wouldn’t feel my fingers as they twitched—
He moved, and I felt his right hand cover mine. For a moment I was certain he was going to push my hand away, but then his fingers twined into mine.
I felt the connection again. The same connection that I’d felt last night. A spark—but not a spark. No. It was much more than that. A glow of safety and a surety that I’d only felt before in my deepest meditations. I drew his hand up close to my mouth and pressed it to my lips. “Thank you,” I said softly.
“For what?” His voice was gravelly.
“For risking yourself just to protect me.”
After a short moment, he said, “That’s my job.”
My heart was thrumming in my chest and I hoped he couldn’t feel the vibrations through the springs in the mattress. “Yeah. I know.”
“But…” He took a deep breath. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to do this.”
His fingers twitched, moved out of mine, and then traced over my lips.
I only dared to ask because it was dark. Because we were so close in the bed but could not see each other’s face. “So…what’s the other reason?”
“I think you know.” I couldn’t help but smile under his fingers. He gave an answering chuckle. “But we gotta be real, here, A. You’re…you.”
