“Do you really like it?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
“I wouldn’t lie to you. It’s amazing. You are so talented. It’s nearly a shame to confine yourself to inking people when you’re capable of doing all this.” I wave my hand at the wall, admiring the attention to detail.
She shrugs, looking contemplative as she inspects her work with a critical eye.
“The baby angel is the same one as the one on your shoulder.”
She smiles, nodding. “Yes, this one is Tillie too.” She runs her fingers along the ink that stretches from her shoulder to the top of her chest, and the faraway look she has had in her eyes lately makes a reappearance. “Do you believe in an afterlife?” she asks after a few silent beats.
“I’ve never given it much thought,” I truthfully admit. “I’m not overly religious, but I believe there issomethingafter death.”
“I’m not religious either. I stopped believing in God when he stole my parents from me. But I believe some higher power had a hand in creating us, and I have to believe there is a heaven or someplace our souls go to after we leave this mortal realm. I need to believe Tillie is in a good place and I have a chance to see her again one day.” She swipes at the tears in her eyes, leaning into me as I wrap my arms around her. “Like I need to believe Chris is at peace now.”
I nod, understanding it even though I’ve no personal experiences to relate to.
“Is it silly to believe he is up there now with our daughter and my parents and they are happy and content?” She looks up at me with hope in her big brown eyes.
“If it gives you comfort, then it’s the furthest thing from silly. Billions of people around the world believe it happens like that. They can’t all be wrong.” The truth is, we will never know. I’m skeptical when it comes to God and religion. But if having certain beliefs gives you comfort and relief and helps you sleep easier at night, then fucking grab it and don’t let anyone tell you differently because they don’t know what is or isn’t true either.
***
“Kent.” Presley rolls over in the bed later that night, curling into my side.
I put my book down, giving her my undivided attention. “Yes, babe?”
She rests her soft hands on my chest. “Thank you for everything.”
I sweep hair back off her face. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, and I’m here for you.” I want to add always, but that’s subjective. She could still kick my ass to the curb, and I wouldn’t fight her because I deserve it. I can spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her, and it still won’t be enough. I know that.
“I know I’ve shut myself off, and I’m so grateful you let me be, but I’m going to try harder. I don’t want to wallow in grief, not when I’ve been doing well finally confronting it. The best way I can honor Tillie and Chris is to live my best life.” She chews on the corner of her mouth, her finger idly drawing circles on my chest. “Just be patient with me,” she says, staring straight into my eyes. “Because I can’t promise I won’t have more bad days. But I’m ready to live again.”
I kiss her lips. “I can be patient for as long as you need me to be, and there is no rush. Rafe said you can take as much time as you need. Why don’t you wait until you’ve spoken with Jenna?” I relayed Imogen’s message earlier, and she is attending an appointment with Presley on Wednesday morning.
She nods before propping up on one elbow, smiling at me with a certain glint in her eye. Her hair cascades over one shoulder with the motion, and she slides one leg over mine. My dick springs to life at that small touch because my body has missed the hell out of her. “I just need one other thing,” she purrs, her voice dropping an octave. Her hand moves from my chest, down along my abs, and her fingers explore all the dips and curves of my stomach. My cock is a solid block of wood behind my sleep pants now, and there’s no way she’s not noticed because it’s jutting up proud and tall, almost saluting her.
“Anything,” I croak, trying to temper my excitement in case I’m reading the signals wrong.
Leaning down, she licks at the seam of my lips, and precum seeps from my erection. “Make love to me,” she whispers before claiming my lips in a soft but passionate kiss.
My fingers wind through her hair until I reach the nape of her neck. Holding her in place, I return her kisses, exploring her mouth with my tongue in a slow, unhurried fashion. If she needs me to make love to her, I will show her I’m capable of slowing things down and worshiping her like the goddess she is.
We undress one another in between kisses, and our hands explore our bodies as if it’s the first time we’ve done this. In a way, I suppose it is because I’ve never been this gentle with her. Rolling her onto her back, I hover over her as I adore every inch of her skin with my fingers, my lips, and my tongue. Nudging her thighs apart, I lick her slit in slow, tantalizing sweeps of my tongue, my fingers tenderly probing the heat between her legs while my thumb gently rubs that sensitive bundle of nerves. I keep my eyes on her face as I continue loving her, drowning in awe when she comes apart before me, her juices coating my fingers and my tongue.
She sits up, pulling me up to her so she can kiss me and taste herself on my lips. Then she rolls a condom over my straining cock while stroking every inch of my body in soft caresses that imprint on my heart.
We reposition ourselves so we’re lying flat on the bed with her underneath me. We maintain eye contact as I push inside her at a leisurely pace, taking my time inching into her warmth. Our hands intertwine above her head as I start moving. I deliberately slow my thrusts, moving in and out of her with infinite care, in a way I have never experienced before.
I feel everything.
The worshipful way her tight walls hug my dick as I glide in and out of her body.
The warmth of her fingers pressed against mine.
The softness of her lips as our mouths fuse together while our bodies rock in perfect sync.
An outpouring of love so strong as we stare at one another like this is the only thing that matters. This intense connection that pumps blood through my veins keeps my heart beating and fills my soul with everything that is good and light.
“Kent,” she whispers, tears filling her eyes.
