Tattooed Emotions

by Alicia Rae

  Once nothing else came up, I began to dry-heave and gasp for air. I shut my eyes and pursed my lips to draw air in and out of my lungs, hoping to calm myself.

  “Fuck, Raelyn. Your whole body is shaking.” He scooted closer and tightened his hold on me. “Please, please tell me what I can do to help.”

  “J-just hold me,” I cried softly.

  Keeping my world black with closed eyelids, I tuned out my aching body and focused on the feel of Damien surrounding me, hoping to find my piece of serenity. His chest rose and fell beneath his shirt, perceivably more rapidly than mine. With his arms twined around me, his callous hands stroked either side of my thighs.

  I hadn’t the slightest clue of how long we sat together on the tiled floor, and I didn’t care. The coldness of it felt heavenly against my bare flesh.

  Damien leaned his face toward me while shifting one hand to softly caress the length of my spine. “Are you ready for me to carry you back to bed?”

  Now that my stomach was settled, I could smell the awful scent of my own vomit. “No, I need a shower,” I said weakly, attempting to pull out of his hold. My body was drained.

  “Raelyn, you need your rest. You can shower in the morning,” he said with finality. Standing up behind me, he crouched down on his haunches where he snuck his arms beneath me to lift me and cradle me toward his chest.

  “No,” I stated through my exhaustion. “I need a shower.” I would not budge on this. I smelled horrendous to my own nose, and I wouldn’t get an ounce of sleep with vomit in my hair.

  “All right,” he sighed. “A shower, it is.”

  Damien carried me toward the large glass shower stall. He slightly maneuvered me to open the door, and then he stepped into the large space. Angling me out of the way, he turned on the water and adjusted the temperature.

  I gently pressed at his sternum as a signal to put me down while trying to wiggle my legs free. He rotated his head to peer down at me. Hesitation was clear in his features before he finally gave in and loosened his hold.

  When my feet pressed against the tiles, my strength failed to support my weight, and I placed my hand on his chest to grasp his shirt for stability.

  Within a nanosecond, I was back in his arms. This time, we were face-to-face with my legs wrapped feebly around his waist and my arms draped lifelessly around his shoulders.

  I felt angry, but at whom or what, I was unsure.

  “I got it,” I protested, choking back a sob. “I just needed a second to get my balance.” I wanted to take care of myself, not feel as though I were an invalid…again. I was supposed to be stronger now.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, a clear sign not to argue with him. “You’ll let me hold you and wash you without complaint, Raelyn.” He stepped into the water with me, still wearing his shirt. The water cascaded from the back of his head and over his exposed neck before soaking the front of him.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, tilting his head at the showerhead.

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  He slightly spun me and slowly let the water trickle down my side before rotating me in a full circle where I finished with my back. It took all my strength to tip my head back in an effort to saturate my hair. The water temperature was perfect—not too hot, not too cold.

  Damien retrieved a bottle of shampoo and guided us over to the opposite end of the stall where he sat down. He opened the bottle to pour some in his hand.

  “I can do it,” I said, feeling awkward by this small intimacy.

  My statement earned me a glare. “You’ll let me take care of you.”

  His relentless stubbornness was a force of nature that needed to be reckoned with.

  “Fine, you can wash the puke out of my hair.” I sighed and pressed my forehead against his shoulder in defeat.

  “Why, thank you.” Damien chuckled quietly as he began to lather me down with shampoo.

  Even through my dire fatigue, his laughter made me smile against his skin. It was so rare to hear—with the exception of yesterday when I’d heard it so much while out on the ocean.

  He effortlessly rose to his feet with me still wrapped around him and guided me back under the showerhead to rinse out the shampoo.

  “Tip your head back,” he ordered lightly.

  I closed my eyes and did as he’d said. I let out a long sigh at the feel of his hands running through the strands of my hair.

  “Do you know what made you so ill?”

  Since I didn’t eat Mexican food often, I was going to hold it fully responsible for my stomach attack. “I’m guessing it was from dinner.”

  He extended his arm, snatched a bar of soap from the metal shower rack to my right, and began to rub me down with it while appearing thoughtful. “You think it was food poisoning?”

  “Yes, I believe so.” It made sense. I had all the symptoms—well, minus the diarrhea part, but I was going to consider myself lucky that I’d missed out on that one.

  Once he finished washing and rinsing me, Damien shut off the water valve and carried me out of the shower. He grabbed a towel off the linen rack and made his way over to the sink. Setting me on the countertop, he draped the towel around my shoulders and began to dry me off. All the while, water dripped from his shirt onto the tiles around his feet. He seemed unconcerned with the mess.

  I suddenly felt extremely shy, and I blushed when I peered up at him. “Do you happen to have a spare toothbrush?”

  He bent forward at the waist to reach around me to grab his toothbrush from a cup holder before returning to me with it in his hand.

  “I can’t use yours!” My eyes widened in horror.

  “Why not?” His head jutted back on his shoulders, clearly missing my point.

  “Because my mouth is dirty!”

  His mouth twitched in amusement, and he appeared completely unfazed by my declaration. “So, wash it”—he waved the toothbrush at me—“with this.”

  When I made no move to retrieve the instrument from his hand, he demanded, “Now, Raelyn.”

  His stern voice made me want to dirty up his toothbrush, so I snatched it from his grasp. “Fine,” I huffed. “But first thing in the morning, I’m buying you a new one to replace it.”

  His brows rose, and he smiled. “Whatever you say, gorgeous girl.”

  I didn’t feel gorgeous since he’d just witnessed me hugging his porcelain, but that didn’t seem to stop me from reciprocating his delighted expression.

  Damien grabbed the toothpaste, twisted off the cap, and smeared the blue-and-white paste across the bristles.

  “Thank you,” I said before sticking the toothbrush in my mouth to set about brushing my teeth.

  He studied me, still holding the toothpaste, as I leaned over to turn on the faucet and lightly spit. Still feeling dirty, I sat upright and clutched the toothpaste from between his fingers to apply a second round to the brush. Damien’s soaked chest silently vibrated with amusement as I continued to brush my teeth.

  When I finally felt minty and clean, I rinsed off his brush and scanned the bathroom. “Where’s your garbage can?”

  He gently snatched the filthy toothbrush from my fingers and replaced it in the cup holder before intently eyeing me. “Don’t even think about hitting me with any of your sass. The toothbrush stays.”

  “That’s just”—I shook my head in wonder—“so wrong.”

  He shook his head right back at me and swooped me up off the counter to carry me to bed. “Get over it. You can find a way to sanitize it in the morning, if it suits you.”

  “I’m going to scrub the shit out of that thing with rubbing alcohol,” I said, unable to hold my tongue.

  “I’m sure you will.” His tone was completely unfazed. “Whatever makes you happy.”

  Damien lightly laid me on the bed, removed my towel, and tucked me beneath the sheets. “Do you need anything? Water, saltines, anything?” Concern filled his features once again.

  “No.” I smiled. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

&nb
sp; He nodded his acknowledgment, and then he walked to the bathroom door while pulling his soaking wet shirt from his back. He tossed it on the chair, every muscle flexing with his movements.

  I might have been tired, but that didn’t stop me from being stunned into silence as my body flamed to life at the sight of his bare torso. My greedy eyes traveled from one end of his shoulder to the other, drinking in the beauty of his ink.

  Without glancing at me, he sauntered over to his dresser to pull out a dark-colored shirt.

  “Don’t,” I whispered, feeling my heart stop beating in my chest.

  It destroyed me a little every time he concealed this part of himself from me. I knew something awful had happened to Damien and that he didn’t want to talk about it, but him hiding it from me hurt beyond any other physical pain I’d ever experienced.

  His arms paused midair, and he gazed over his shoulder. From his side profile, I saw the instant his body tensed, and his jaw clenched.

  “Please…” I swallowed thickly and dug for courage. “You want me to stay. And I want to lie with you…with nothing between us.” I realized I was being unfair, but I was that desperate.

  A visible tremor shook through him. It felt as though an eternity had passed before he spoke, “Don’t touch them.”

  My heart swelled within its confined space. He was going to trust me.

  “I won’t,” I breathed in relief. “I promise.”

  “Don’t ever break a promise to me, Raelyn.” He slowly lowered his arms and pivoted to face me. “So, don’t make one if you can’t keep it.”

  “I keep my promises,” I vowed with the utmost sincerity.

  “As do I. Always.” His voice was reverent. He released a rush of air before he dropped the shirt and came to his side of the bed to climb in.

  I met him in the middle of the mattress. At first, I thought the mattress shaking under me was him shifting about, but it wasn’t. The movement was coming from his body trembling.

  He lay flat on his back. After a second, he began to turn on his side and then appeared to think better of it. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, raising his hands to run them through his hair. “I really fucking need you to keep your promise, Raelyn. So, please, turn on your other side.”

  Tears burned the back of my eyes. It wasn’t because he didn’t want me to face him. It was because of the palpable anxiety and agony from the mere thought of me accidentally touching his scars. I had a feeling that this man hadn’t been touched since those tattoos were engraved on his flesh. And before that had to be from the injuries themselves. I felt guilty for requesting that he leave his shirt off and for the anguish this was causing him.

  I rolled over onto my opposing side to face away from him. My knees came to my chest as I curled into a ball, distraught over the idea of hurting him. It instantly vanished when Damien laid his arm over my center and hauled me to his chest. His nose nuzzled into my hair.

  I closed my eyes and reveled in the warmth of his bare skin along mine. My heart was smiling. My body was content. And my soul was utterly at peace.

  I’d nearly drifted off into a tranquil slumber when I heard Damien’s voice.

  “Nothing has ever felt so right, Raelyn.” He pressed his lips into my hair to kiss me. “Nothing…until now.”

  I couldn’t agree with him more, and at the same time, his admission frightened me with its truthfulness.

  I awoke to feeling as though my body were on fire as Damien’s finger repeatedly teased my sex with soft and slow undulating circles. My torso automatically arched against him on a desperate cry for more, and I immediately felt his hard erection against my backside.

  “Damien,” I moaned, pushing my clit into his hand, craving more friction. I’d only been awake for seconds, yet I was already aching and wet for him. My body was primed.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you writhe beneath my touch.” His hot breath seeped over my neck as his lips trailed kisses across my skin. “Someone’s feeling better,” he noted.

  I could tell by his voice that he was grinning.

  “Yes,” I replied breathlessly. All I could think about was the heat and liquid desire surging forward and pooling at my core.

  “I’m glad to hear that.” His voice was gruff with unabashed lust.

  Without pausing his motions, Damien shuffled behind me. I heard the unmistakable noise of a plastic wrapper tearing behind me.

  My hands came to the back of his head to impatiently grasp his hair as he quickly sheathed himself. Then, he whipped the covers off of us before his palm came to my hip to shift the angle of my position on the mattress. He snuck one leg between mine to force my thighs apart, completely exposing my center.

  I gasped when he rocked his pelvis forward and ever so gently slipped into my slick heat from behind, filling me to the max. The feeling was incredible. My hold on his hair tightened as I bowed at the waist to let him sink even deeper inside me.

  “Christ, you feel amazing.” His palm came to my neck and lightly glided down the length of my spine while gently pushing me forward. His touch left a tingling shiver in its wake.

  He pulled back along my sensitive tissues, and I impulsively squeezed around him at the sensations he drew from me. His spare hand went to my breast where he firmly kneaded it before rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger on another forward thrust.

  “This is going to be quick, Raelyn,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, as though trying to maintain control.

  My blood sizzled in my veins as it headed straight for my groin, making my sex tingle and throb. There would be no delaying my orgasm. I could spontaneously combust just from the sound of his rough command.

  As he kept delivering powerful drives with his hips, his grasp on my breast tightened, just to the brink of pain. But when he rewarded me with a precise angle of his hips, driving deep, pleasure rushed forward, wiping the trace of discomfort away.

  His hand skimmed up my chest to my throat where he softly seized my jaw to bring my mouth to his. Those gray eyes flashed with emotions. Unimaginable passion seemed to fuse our gazes together.

  “I want you to feel every part of me while I’m buried deep inside you”—he reinforced his words with another grind of his hips, penetrating the depths of me—“with everything I have to give you”—he tenderly kissed me, adoringly, as though he were trying to heal my damaged heart—“and I want you to take it all.”

  His words practically tore me in two, and my heart expanded against the armored walls I’d worked so hard to rebuild. It was becoming difficult to tell where he ended, and I began. I was drowning in him.

  He hadn’t unveiled much of himself to me, yet I could sense this was his way of doing so—with his body and the way he touched me.

  As he continued to move in and out of me with silky smooth thrusts, my arousal increased with every unsteady breath and each uneven heartbeat. I’d never felt so taken before. I felt like I was his. And I savored the emotions he invoked in me.

  “Let your body tremble for me.” He placed a chaste kiss on my lips before gently sucking the lower one into his mouth. “Only me,” he possessively reiterated with conviction in his tone. “You’re mine, Raelyn,” he growled against my mouth as I felt his length hardening inside me. “Mine.”

  His strides became more urgent, as if he were fucking me senseless. I lost my breath as my stomach muscles constricted. I was wound too tight.

  “Give me what I want,” he whispered.

  I briefly wondered if he meant me or my release.

  I didn’t get long to ponder because my need took over when Damien surged forward one last time with a meaningful yet hard thrust.

  My head rolled back on his shoulder as my orgasm hurtled over its peak and threw me into oblivion. I barely heard Damien’s guttural groan as his pace slowed. He pumped languidly, prolonging my orgasm, as he found his own release.

  Damien wrapped his arm around my center and let his face lay alongside mine as the both
of us breathed heavily. As my heart slowly returned to its normal rhythm, I felt that something prominent had just transpired between us. But I swiftly shoved the thought aside, knowing I wasn’t ready to acknowledge any such feelings yet.

  Surely, the orgasmic haze was clouding my head.

  As we still lay in bed with my back pressed to Damien’s chest and his arms wrapped around me, I found it hard to resist the desire to turn in his hold. Instead, I focused on the feel of his bare skin along mine as my mind began to wander.

  I had to break the silence and address an issue that was bothering me. “Damien?” I felt nervous about disrupting our perfect morning.

  “Yes?” His hand continued to caress a trail up and down my arm.

  “We need to talk about Cale.” I was unsure of how to go on. I needed to hear Damien’s feelings on the matter.

  His movements paused as he asked, “What about him?”

  “I need to know what your intentions are for him and how you plan to recuperate your money from him.”

  His head shook behind me, a clear sign of denial. “I’ll deal with Cale in my own way. There is no reason for you to be concerned.”

  Needing to see his eyes, I maneuvered myself to my stomach next to him. Damien rolled onto his back as I supported my upper body weight on my forearms to gaze at him.

  “It worries me a great deal, Damien, when the future of my company and its reputation are on the line.”

  He pulled his brows together in a frown, looking rather adorable with a pout on his facial features. “You think I’d put your company at risk?” he asked, sounding hurt.

  “You have every right to sue Cale to regain what he stole from you.”

  This wasn’t about me and Damien. It was about Damien taking equitable actions against Cale’s wrongdoing. It wasn’t Damien’s fault that I was tied to Cale with Adam & Jennings Accounting Services.