I nod against her. “I thought I lost you.”
She tilts my head and presses her lips to mine. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her fingers trace the lines of the broken watch tattooed on my forearm. “I get it now. You were trying to cover up old wounds with new ink, hoping to chase away the pain. But I see them. I see all of your scars just as you’ve seen mine, and they are beautiful.”
I swallow against an intense burning in my lungs. Each shallow breath is a struggle. “He would’ve loved you.”
Like I do.
The thought is immediate and wholly without pretext. I do love her. I love her more than I thought I could love another person. She’s become the axis my world spins on—the very gravity keeping me tethered to this earth. Without her, I’m nothing. Maybe it’s dramatic, but everything about the way I love Callie Cooper is.
Heat stirs low in my gut. A longing to take her to bed—to make love to her until the sky burns with the vibrant colors of dawn and her eyes grow heavy from exhaustion.
Dimly aware that I am burning through the last shreds of self-restraint, I lift her into my arms and carry her to my bedroom.
She giggles as I toss her onto the mattress. “What are you doing?”
“Surrendering.”
Callie
Propped on my elbows, I watch on bated breath as he crawls over me with predatory grace. He settles heavily between my spread thighs, and his hardness presses against me. I respond with an indrawn breath.
“You’ve fucking ruined me, Callie.” His hand slides up the outside of my thigh, his gold rings scraping against my exposedflesh until his fingertips trace the outline of my sleep shorts. “I haven't felt this way… maybe ever. It’s maddening, this desperate, reckless hope you’ve given me.”
I’m hyper aware of every subtle shift, every movement, every breath.
Why does he feel like destiny? Like the lifetime of suffering led me here, to this moment with this man. Every heartbeat draws me closer to him. The desperation. The recklessness. I feel it all, too. In every atom of my existence.
“Make love to me, Jax.”
His eyes flare, and he takes my mouth in a hungry kiss. My lips part on a sigh. He slips his tongue inside with practiced ease. All coherent thought has fled as he devours me with gentle bites and teasing licks.
My hands pull at his shirt, desperately seeking more connection. He sits back on his haunches and tugs his shirt off over his head. I lie there, breathless, marveling at the perfection on display for my enjoyment. This man is a work of art, all muscle, sinew, and ink.
He gives me a crooked smile. “You keep looking at me like that, and we’ll never make it out of this bed.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He pulls off my shorts and tosses them alongside his shirt, and then he’s right there, licking a path up my aching core. I arch off the bed in response to the sudden movement, my hand gripping his wild curls. He chuckles against my center, sending a riot of shivers coursing through me.
“Relax. We’re just getting started, baby.”
His mouth closes around my clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive flesh. His hand winds around my thigh, and his fingers dig into my softness as he pulls me tighter against him, his forehead resting against my belly. He wields his tongue with expert precision, driving me to the brink of ecstasy like it’s his sole purpose in life.
A gasp escapes my parted lips as he slips two fingers inside me. I tug harder on his hair, needing something, anything, to ground me. I’m flying, soaring higher than ever before, higher than I ever will again. The sheer sensuality of this man will be my undoing.
“Jax. Baby. It’s too much.”
I feel him smile against me, and he lets out a sound like a feral growl. “Say it again, Bluebird.”
“Jax.”
“No. Not that.”
“Baby…”
“Fuck, I love the sound of that.” He threads his fingers through mine, lending me his strength like he so often does. “Let go. You can take it.”
