All that matters is that his kiss silences the loudness in my head, giving me a clarity I haven’t had since he left.
Chapter 21
Rina
The door slams behind us as we wrestle with our clothes, mouths still connected in a wild mess of limbs. He spins me around, my back slamming against the hip-high workbench as I whimper in pain.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Arlo mumbles as his kisses trail down my neck.
Somehow, my shirt is already off, and I move my hands to his side to even things up. Sliding my hands up, I take my time feeling his muscles—the notch at the start of the V that leads directly to his dick, the subtle bumps of the edge of his abs. The man is built even after everything he’s been through. With all the pain he’s been suffering through, he still manages to keep himself in peak condition. It’s ridiculously sexy.
I don’t even notice the hard, metal bench digging into my lower back; not when I drag his shirt up and over his head, revealing a literal piece of art. I push him back a little so I can just look at him. Every time we’ve been together, it’s been rushed and to the point. I’m not sure what exactly shifted, but I don’t want that right now. I want to see him, see the man who seems to be wiggling his way back into my life like I don’t have a say in the matter.
Honestly, I’m not sure I want a say. I’ll just overthink it.
My fingernails scrape against his skin, sending goosebumps over his body. I study him as my eyes follow every inch of skin I touch. I seea touch of black on his side; a tattoo I never knew he had. Forcefully twisting his body so I can get a better look, I suck in a breath at what I see.
My eyes flit to his, unsure if I’m seeing what I think I am.
“The falls,” he whispers, and my heart clenches in my chest. He got a tattoo of a place that only means something to us. I don’t know when he did it, but it certainly wasn’t when we were together.
What does this mean?
Before I can contemplate the answer to that question, I see that it isn’t just an outline of the falls we both love too much. There’s a shape that flows seamlessly into the design, something you might miss if you aren’t looking at it like I am.
A heart.
It doesn’t look like just any heart. It looks familiar, but I can’t figure out where I’ve seen it before. Maybe it has to do with us. It would make sense since it ties in with the falls. It’s not perfect, almost like it’s handwritten. I trace it as if by memory.
My fingers freeze on the heart when the realization slams into me.
It’s the heart I drew in the note I sent back with the divorce papers.
I look up at him, confusion no doubt written all over my face.
Pain shows all over his.
“I … I needed a piece of you. Despite everything, I needed you close. Always.” His gravelly voice mixed with his words sends a baffling combination of want and panic through my system.
Emotions I don’t want to face right now war with the fact that I just want to jump him. At the most basic level, he branded me on his skin, and it’s sexier than I want to admit.
My finger is still tracing the image as I think about my next move. I have two options. Shut shit down right here and now, and really figure out what I’m doing with him. Or say fuck it and pretend this revelation doesn’t fuck with everything I knew about him.
I look up at him and see him patiently waiting for me. I know with every fiber of my being he’ll do whatever I want. If I walk away, he’ll respect that, but if I don’t?
Impulsive.
Needy.
Loved.
I feel it all in a matter of seconds, and the overwhelming feeling of being loved overrules any logic I desperately try to hold on to.
My hands move to the band of his jeans, barely dipping inside as I move toward the button.
“Is this okay?” I ask because it’s a two-way street. He may go with anything I say, but that doesn’t mean how he feels doesn’t matter. If anything, that means it matters a hell of a lot more.
“God, yes. Touch me, Emmerdeur.” He groans as his arms encircle my waist and hoists me up onto the bench. His hands shift to my leggings, trying to pull them off before realizing my position makes things complicated.
