by K. Bromberg
“Don’t even think about it, Sledge,” Colton warns with a laugh as Sledge, I assume, shakes his head and just laughs that unique laugh of his again before ushering us into the tattoo parlor.
“So, dude, really?” Sledge asks Colton.
“Yeah.” He looks over to me and smiles. “Really.” And I’m completely lost.
“Whatever yanks your dick man,” he says, shaking his head as he walks over to a counter and starts rifling through some papers. “Speaking about yanking dicks and shit …” He glances over at me and his face scrunches up in apology before continuing to look for something. “How’s that fine ass sister of yours that I’d love to have yank mine, among other things.”
I expect Colton to freak out, but he just throws his head back and bellows out a laugh. His reaction makes me realize these two go way back.
“She’d eat you alive and you know it, dude … you’re such a pussy.”
“Fuck you!” Sledge laughs as Colton starts pulling his shirt over his head. And even with so many new sights to take in here, I can’t tear my eyes from his chiseled abdomen. I take in the four symbols—representations of his past—and wonder what he’s going to do now.
“Yeah … quite the hard ass,” Colton teases as he ushers me to a chair and presses a chaste kiss on my lips. He looks me in the eye for a moment, as if to say trust me, before sitting down in a chair himself. “The inked up man who listens to Barbara Streisand and keeps his five pussies in the back room.” What in the hell is he talking about? “Didn’t you know, if you’re gonna pretend to be a badass you need to listen to death metal and have a man-eating pit bull instead of enough cats to rival an old spinster.” Colton is laughing, carefree even, and I love that whoever this contradiction of a man is brings this out in Colton.
“I’m a delicate flower!” Sledge quips before yelling out, “A-ha!”
“Flower my ass!” Colton says, shaking his head and laughing as Sledge walks over to him with a piece of paper in his hand. “That it?” Colton asks, and I straighten my posture to try and see what’s on it. He stares at it a moment, lips pursing, head subtly bobbing as he considers it. “You sure? It’ll really work?” He flicks his eyes up at Sledge, his expression reinforcing the question.
“Like you have to fucking ask. Oops, there I go again with the fucking.” He raises his eyebrows as he glances over to me in a silent apology. “Dude, if I’m gonna stain you, I’m gonna research it to make sure.”
“Like Google research or bottom of a bottle research?” Colton asks.
“Get out of my fucking chair!” Sledge teases, throwing his arm toward the direction of the door before looking over at me. “You really put up with this shit on a daily basis?”
I nod my head and laugh as Colton leans forward and stares at me, and for a second I see sadness flicker there but it goes away just as quickly as it came. “Ryles?”
“Yeah?” I scoot to the edge of my seat, still curious what the paper has on it.
“Time to lay the demons to rest,” he says, his eyes locked on mine, “and move on.”
I force myself to look away from his eyes and down to the sketch of curved, interlinking lines. I know the symbol is a Celtic knot and it’s similar but different to the others, but I don’t know why it’s significant.
I look up from the paper, my eyes beseeching Colton’s for an explanation. “New beginnings,” he says, his eyes telling me he’s ready, “…rebirth.”
I suck in a breath, my eyes burning with tears, the significance of the symbol is so poignant I can’t find the words to speak so I just nod.
“Okay, I get you’re all fucking lovey-dovey and shit, but I’m itching to cause you some fucking pain, Wood, so scoot your ass back,” he says, pressing Colton’s shoulders back and winking at me with a smirk. “Because you ain’t gonna have a chance to be reborn, motherfucker, if you sit and stare at her so long that you fucking die in the meantime.”
I laugh, my love for this man I just met is already profound. Colton complies but not without a comeback. “Dude, you’re just jealous!”
“Fuck yeah, I am. I’m sure that she can...” he stalls, eyes darting back to me and then down to where he’s busy setting up his supplies “...whip up a mean bowl of macaroni and cheese.” He chortles out that laugh again.
“Damn straight,” Colton says, slapping him on the shoulders. “Nice and creamy.”
I choke on my breath the same time Sledge does, both of our faces staining red with embarrassment. I give Colton a disbelieving look and shake my head while mischief glimmers in his eyes. And the sight of it—troublemaker in full effect—makes me smile even brighter.
“Just for that I oughta give you a fucking pansy instead …” He shakes his head as the needle buzzes to life and Colton jolts at the sound. Sledge throws his head back and laughs a deep belly rumble. “Pansy ass motherfucker! Oops, there’s a heart. Oops, there’s a vagina. Oops, there’s a daisy!” Sledge teases pretending to place the needle on Colton’s body.
I am dying with laughter, so desperately needing this humor after the heaviness of our night.
“Oops, there’s a boot up your ass, is more like it.” Colton starts laughing but stops the minute Sledge angles the needle near his side. I’ve never seen anyone get a tattoo before and I’m quite curious. I stand and walk over to an empty chair next to Colton so I can watch.
I don’t even look at first—can’t as I see Colton’s body tense and his breath hiss out as the needle touches him for the first time.
“God nothing changes,” Sledge says, exasperation in his voice. “Once a puss, always a puss.” The buzzing stops and he lifts his head to look up at Colton. “Seriously, dude? If I’ve gotta worry about you shivering like a fucking chihuahua, then we’re gonna have some serious fucking issues and I’m not gonna claim this job as mine.”
Colton just lifts a hand and flashes Sledge his middle finger before flicking his eyes over to me and then closing them as the needle starts again. This time the buzz remains steady, and after Colton relaxes some, I move around to the other side of Sledge to test if I can handle watching him draw Colton’s blood. And when I get the courage to finally look down, I’m confused.
Sledge’s needle is working over the symbol for vengeance. He’s cut dark red lines that make me cringe at the thought of what that must feel like against Colton’s rib cage. I look up to find Colton’s eyes locked on mine as I try to figure out what’s going on.
“Sledge figured out how to overlay the new knot on top of vengeance.”
“Vengeance is gone,” I whisper, and for some reason this concept is so moving to me that I just stand there, lips parted, head shaking, and eyes watching Sledge reconfigure a concept that would only destroy Colton further and give him one filled with hope instead.
“Time to lay the demons to rest.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat at Colton’s words and reach out to hold his hand as we watch the slow transformation of one of his inked scars. One that is now a symbol of hope and healing.
After some time and more ribbing between the two of them—along with me falling further in love with Sledge—Colton’s tattoo has been transformed.
“I want to see it before you bandage it up,” Colton says as Sledge slathers it with petroleum jelly. “Go pet your pussies and make sure you didn’t sneak any hearts or rainbows in there somewhere since you kept blocking my view, you fucker.” Colton stands from the chair and I notice the time it takes to steady himself from the after effects of his accident is a lot shorter now. He heads off to the back room where the mirror is.
And I don’t know what it is—maybe the events of the night or maybe the hope weaving its way into our lives—but my decision’s made before Colton even clears the door to the back. I have to act now before I lose the courage, before my rational head catches up with my irrational heart.
Before I chicken out.
“Hey, Sledge,” I say as I sit down in the chair Colton’s vacated, pulling the elastic band of my exerc
ise pants down over my hip bone, and point there. “I think it’s the perfect time to get my first tattoo. I want the same thing only a lot smaller.”
He looks over at me, eyes dancing and startled. “Darlin’, when I said fucking, I didn’t think you’d offer, much less bring your pants down for it with Wood in the back fucking room.” He winks at me and smiles before staring into my eyes. “You trying to get me killed?”
I laugh. “He’ll go easy. I think he has a soft spot for you, Sledge.”
“Yeah soft spot in his head more like it.” He just licks his lips and looks down at my hip before back up to my eyes, concern and uncertainty in his. “You sure? It’s kinda permanent,” he questions with an amused raise of an eyebrow. I nod my head before I lose the courage to go through with it—to prove to Colton that I want to be there for him every step of the way on this journey.
Sledge laughs and rubs his hands together. “I always love being the first to touch virgin skin. Makes my fucking balls tighten up and shit …” He blows out a breath. “Fucking shit, I’m sorry. Again.” He shakes his head as he starts to trace the image on my hipbone after looking up at me to make sure it’s where I want it.
“You positive?” he asks again, and I nod because I’m so frickin’ nervous I can barely force a swallow down my throat.
I’m not a tattoo type of girl, I tell myself, so why am I doing this? And then I realize I’m not a bad boy kind of girl either. Look how wrong I was with that assumption.
I jolt when the needle buzzes on, my breath hitching and body vibrating with anxious anticipation. I bite my bottom lip and fist my hands as the first sting hits me. Holy shit! It hurts so much more than I expected. Don’t wimp out, don’t wimp out, I repeat over and over in my head to try and drown out the needle that’s stinging my hip like a bitch. And my chant doesn’t ease the pain so I close my eyes and exhale a breath, nodding at Sledge to continue because I’m okay when he stops and looks up to check on me.
I don’t hear him or see him, but I know the minute that Colton re-enters the room because I can feel him. His energy, our connection, his pull on me has me opening my eyes and lock on his instantly.
The look on his face is priceless—shock, pride, disbelief—as he steps closer to see around Sledge’s hands. I know when he sees it because I hear him suck in a startled gasp before his eyes flash up to mine.
“New beginnings.” It’s all I say as I watch the emotion dance in his sparks of green.
“You know that’s permanent, right?” he murmurs, shaking his head at me, still floored by what I’m doing.
“Yeah,” I say, reaching out to lace my fingers with his, “kinda like we are.”
I can’t help but laugh and feel sentimental as Colton finishes explaining the whole alphabet comment he’d made earlier. The lighthearted sound from Colton makes me content, causes me to remember the dark days in the hospital when all I wanted was to hear that sound again, and the request is out of my mouth before I think twice. “Can we have ice cream for breakfast?”
Colton’s hand stills on my thigh as he stutters out a laugh. “What?” I love the look on his face right now. Carefree, careless, and unburdened from the secrets that are no longer between us.
I just smile at him lying on his side next to me as I adjust the pillow behind me and lie back, sighing, his amused eyes still staring at me. Music plays overhead as I shrug at him, suddenly feeling silly for my comment. It’s just that I feel like everything is coming full circle. Things I said I wanted to do, I needed to do, promises I made when he was lying in that hospital bed, I need to keep.
“Yes, ice cream for breakfast,” I tell him, wincing as I move and my panties tug on the bandage over my new tattoo—the tattoo my mother is going to kill me over when she finds out about it. But the sudden startled look in his eyes pulls me from my thoughts and causes me to lean forward to look at him closer, curious as to what just put it there. He stares back at me momentarily, and then after blinking his eyes a few times as if he’s trying to figure something out, he just shakes his head and smiles at me, melting my heart, and confirming that I have absolutely no regrets.
About being with him or the tattoo I just got to prove it.
Of the ups and the downs that our relationship has gone through, endured, persevered, and come out stronger for.
None of it, because it brought us here to this point—right here, right now.
Healing together and loving one another.
Taking the first steps toward our future.
He angles his head on his hand propped on his elbow beneath him and quirks his lips. “Well, what the woman wants, the woman gets.”
“I like the sound of that,” I say, wiggling my hips, “because I have a whole lot of wants, Mr. Donavan.”
“Oh really? And what might those be?” He raises his eyebrows, a lascivious smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the edge of my bandage. He looks up at me, lust and so much more dancing in the depths of his eyes as he slowly crawls his way up my body until his lips are inches from mine.
And my God, do I want to lean in and taste those lips and feel my skin hum to life from his touch, but I opt for one more request before losing myself in him, to him. “For dinner, I want—”
“Pancakes.” Colton finishes my sentence. “Ice cream for breakfast and pancakes for dinner. I remember hearing you say that.” His voice is filled with awed reverence as my heart soars at the revelation that he heard me when he was unconscious in the hospital. I watch him try to process everything with a soft shake of his head. “You talked a lot,” he murmurs, leaning closer to my lips but not touching, and I know he’s smiling because I can see the lines bunch around his eyes.
“So we have our menu planned for tomorr—”
Colton leans forward and captures my mouth with his in a soft kiss. “It’s time to stop talking, Ryles,” he says as he leans back to look me in the eyes, humor and unguarded love reflected in them.
“Colton,” I say, arching my back to try and brush my breasts against his bare chest because everything in my body at this moment is desperate for his touch, his taste, the connection between us. And when he stays still and doesn’t move, I reach out and grab the back of his neck, trying to pull him into me, but he doesn’t move.
He just remains motionless, staring at me with such intensity. And for the first time I understand what he meant when he told me I was the first one to ever really see him—to see into the depths of his soul—because right now there’s nothing I can hide from him. Absolutely nothing. Our connection is that strong, that irrefutable.
It’s been such an emotional evening, more so for him than for me, but my body is humming for a physical release. It’s vibrating with need and all I want is him.
“Rylee …” It’s that one word plea of my name on his lips that gets me every time.
“Don’t Rylee me,” I implore as I watch concern edge the desire from his eyes. I move my hands to frame his cheeks and hold him still so he has no option but to hear me. “I’m fine, Colton.”
“I’m so afraid I’m going to hurt you …” His voice fades and the concern that floods it makes every part of me slip further under his tidal wave of love.
“No, baby, no. You’re not going to hurt me.” I lean forward and brush my lips to his and then lean back until I can see his eyes again. “You not wanting to be with me, that hurts me. Destroys me. I need you, Colton, every side of you—physical and emotional. After tonight, after we’ve stripped away everything that’s been keeping us apart, I need to share this with you. Connect in every way possible because it’s the only way I can truly show you how I feel about you. Show you what you do to me.”
I can hear his shuddered exhale moments before the heat of it hits my lips. His hand flexes on my bicep and then softens as if he wants and then doesn’t want at the same moment. He just stares at me, indecision written across his face. And then that muscle pulses in his jaw, his last tell of resista
nce, because the desire clouding his eyes tells me his decision has already been made.
When he leans in to kiss me, I don’t think victory has ever tasted so sweet.
His lips brush softly against mine, once, twice, and then his tongue delves between my lips and licks against mine. He slides his hands behind my back and gathers me against him while our tongues dance a seductive ballet. His hands find their way beneath the hem of my shirt and then tease my bare skin as he draws my shirt up and over my head.
A soft sigh escapes my lips as we part so my shirt can clear my face and then our lips find each other’s again. I release my tangled grip on the back of his hair and scrape my fingernails down the steeled muscles of his biceps, his body responding, tensing to my touch. The guttural moan he emits from the back of his throat turns me on, entices me, has me wanting and needing more.
Desire coils and need springs with each passing second, my thighs clenching together, my breath coming faster. “Colton,” I murmur as his lips travel down my jawline to the pleasure point just beneath my ear that has me arching my back and moaning out loud on contact, heated warmth on willing flesh. His hands scrape over my rib cage and cup my breasts, already weighted with desire. Sensations spiral into and then through every part of me.
“Fuck, Ry, you test a man’s control. I’ve been craving the taste of that sweet pussy of yours. That sound you make when I bury my cock in you. The feel of you coming around me.”
He groans as I slide my hands between his shorts and grip his heated flesh. And as incendiary as his words are, as much as they stoke the fires already raging out of control, there’s an added tenderness in his touch that’s a stark contrast to their explicitness.
“I want every inch of you trembling, fucking shaking, begging for me to take you, Ry, because fuck if I won’t be doing the same. I want to be your sigh, your moan, your cry out in pleasure and every fucking sound in between.” He leans in and nips my lip, and I can feel him quiver, and know that he’s just as affected as I am.
“I want to feel you. Your fingernails digging into my shoulders. Your thighs tense around mine as I drive you closer.” He breathes out, the dominance of his tone fringed with a raw necessity has my entire body vibrating with need. “I want to see your toes curl as they push against my chest. Want to watch your mouth fall open and your eyes close when it becomes too much—the pleasure so fucking intense—because, baby, I want to know I make you feel that way. I want to know you feel just as fucking alive inside as you make me.”