I'm trembling. Sweating. Still inside him. My brain's fried. My body's done. I run a hand up his spine, and the other goes to his face, brushing damp hair off his forehead. He's sweating, lips parted, chest pressed to mine. His cheeks are super red.
"You good?" I murmur, voice rough and low. He just nods. Breathless. I smile.
Wipe the sweat off his forehead with the back of my fingers. Lean in and kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes, smiles back.
"So…"
"From tomorrow, we should stop this, right?"
My stomach knots, but I don't let it show. I chuckle. Softly. Brush my thumb down his cheek. "Right."
I kiss him again. "Starting tomorrow."
He snorts. His hands are still on my chest. His thighs still around my hips. Neither of us moves. "We mean it this time."
"Absolutely," I say, and drag my hand down to rest on the small of his back.
"Super serious. No more…this."
He rolls his hips just slightly, barely a grind, and I groan. "Fucking menace," I whisper, kissing under his jaw. He laughs again.
God, I love that sound.
I love him.
15) Walking Red Flag
Rava
We're on my balcony.
Noah's tattooing my shoulder and I want to scream, but I keep it together. I cannot complain right now.
I sat through a whole damn back piece like a champ. If I whine now? Over a tiny shoulder tattoo? I'll look pathetic.
"Doing okay up there, cookie?" Noah grins.
"Yeah," I lie. "All good." My face probably says otherwise. "Stop moving, dude," he snaps, pulling back slightly. "You're gonna end up with a trashy tattoo, and I won't take responsibility."
"I'm not moving," I say, gritting my teeth.
"You just twitched!"
"Ibreathed!"
"You twitched while breathing. That's worse."
I let out a sigh and try to keep my body frozen, which only makes me ten times more aware of every stupid muscle there. My neck is tense and my whole spine feels like it is clenching in protest.
"Why the hell did I let you do this here?" I mumble. "Because you're a masochist. And because deep down, you trust me."
I side-eye him. "One day I'm gonna be the best damn tattoo artist and you're gonnabegme to ink you, you dickhead. I'll be too busy tattooing other hot men."
I take a slow sip of water. "I hope you make it."
He snorts, nudges my leg with his foot. "You don't even deny it. You know I'm gonna be booked and blessed. Also, you twitch one more time and I'm tattooing a dick on your neck."
"I swear to God—"
