Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“I know.” I sigh. “The cops at Freya’s house were looking for the butterfly… I thought maybe I could create a decoy. But we can’t risk it.”
“But you still want it?” he asks.
I nod, thinking of Freya, hoping she’ll find this romantic.
“I’ll be forty-one this year, brother,” I say with a smirk. “It’s about time I got a tattoo.”
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Freya
Julie and I sit on the balcony, overlooking the forest, which we’re allowed to do now that Kenny’s men are patrolling the grounds.
Julie has been sticking close to me ever since we talked in the security room, meaning all day yesterday was a no-Felix zone.
With everything going on, I shouldn’t long so fiercely for that steaminess we shared, or even the talking in the tattoo studio, before I knew who he really was.
But I do.
I burn for it with every inch of my being.
We turn as somebody approaches.
It’s Felix, wearing a clean long-sleeved shirt that matches the color of his hair and simple blue jeans. His muscles press through the material of the shirt, making me want to collapse against him, to feel that safe, protected feeling.
I could’ve solved any awkwardness by telling mom and Julie. But they’re struggling to accept all this as it is. There is no sense in adding a new romance on top of it right now.
Or is that an excuse?
If I don’t have to tell anybody, I never have to decide what we are, exactly, Felix and me.
He said we’re the start of something.
I want us to be the end of something, for each other… the end of other partners, the end of wondering if we’ll ever find the one, the end of feeling alone.
“Is everything okay?” I ask as he moves closer.
I’m achingly aware of Julie watching us.
Felix nods. “I need to speak with you alone…if you don’t mind?”
He looks at Julie. She shakes her head, looking more alert than usual as her gaze flits between Felix and me.
Suddenly, I think she knows, or at least suspects.
“Of course not,” Julie says.
If it wasn’t clear enough, she shoots me a broad smile that all but screams it. She even gives her eyebrows a little waggle as if playfully taunting me…
I can’t help but smile. The sight is so refreshing. After telling us the truth, Julie even looks lighter, less weighted down by grief.
Felix leads me into the house, the living room, and the basement stairs. With each step – his broad back in front of me, the muscles taut even through the shirt – a shimmer triggers inside of me.
We’re going to be alone, finally alone.
He walks to my bedroom in the corner and opens the door.
My hands fly up to cover my mouth when I see it.
Felix has moved a chair into the middle of the room and positioned the small desk next to it. The desk is covered in tattooing supplies, the expensive kind I’ve coveted and dreamed about for years.
“What’s this?” I whisper.
He takes both my hands, looking down at me with heat in his eyes. His lust and affection clash in the twist of his lips. I don’t doubt it now, not when I feel his hands get even tighter.
I can sense it all thrumming through him, just as it bursts through me.
“I had a plan to be your personal tattoo test dummy,” he says, smirking. “I was going to ask you to tattoo a butterfly onto me since those cops at your place were looking for the tattoo, not for you specifically. But since your friend’s ex and Mr. Red are the same person, clearly he already knows.”
I warn myself not to disconnect when he starts talking about all that mayhem. It makes me feel selfish at how desperately I don’t want any other stuff to happen.
Just here, now, me and my man.
“So… do you want a different tattoo?” I ask.
He bites down as if he’s going to tell me no.
I can’t read all the complex emotions touching his features, tightening them. There’s too much temptation for me to see things that aren’t there.
Love, affection, all the stuff swirling through me.
“I had a thought,” he says, his voice softer than I’ve heard it yet.
He opens his mouth to go on, but then he sighs as if to say, I can’t stand here without kissing you.
We melt against each other, his desire clear in the solid length of manhood pressing against my belly. I squeeze onto his huge arms, holding him as solidly as I can, savoring every moment his irrepressible muscles bulge and heave.
Breaking the kiss off, he goes on, holding me firmly.
Safely.
Like he wants to protect me forever.
“I had an idea,” he goes on. “You promised your mom your first time would be special.”
I nod, wondering if this is it. The moment he tells me it will be special because it will mean we’ll be giving mom grandchildren.