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“I’m glad it was you,” she whispers in my ear. Maybe she realizes, or maybe in her drunk state, she doesn’t. But I grasp onto that admission like a drowning man.

I put her feet on the floor outside the suite so I can find the keycard to get in. Her arms remain around my neck for longer than necessary. Just like they did that night she stretched up and kissed the ever-loving crap out of me for the first time. I try not to show her how much hope her lingering gives me.

Eventually she lets go and I press the card to the lock. The light turns green and I open the door enough that it won’t lock again.

She rubs her lips together and takes her boots. “Thank you for coming to get me. But this doesn’t change anything. I’m still not talking to you. I... need more time.”

“I know... I can wait.” As long as there is hope, I can wait for her to let me back in.

She walks ahead of me into the suite. Disappears into the room she’s sharing with Kodiak, while I stretch out on the couch. I’ll probably end up in the chair beside her bed, but I know her... I remember what it was like to get back to the hotel after a night out with her once we got together.

We could wreak such destruction in our hurry to shed clothes and get inside each other’s skin. Spots dance in front of my eyes. There’s a dull flatness in my chest that I hate.

Her first whimper stops my breath. Dries my throat. I almost get off the couch and go in there, but she doesn’t want me to, and I will respect that. Teeth clenched, I try to ignore her needy little cries, but my cock doesn’t care that my tattoo is still fresh.

When they grow louder, I can’t ignore them any longer. We snuck around for months in the beginning. While I loved to hear her scream for me, and she loved to perform, she could be quieter than a mouse when necessary.

She wants me to hear her getting off with him. Wants me to suffer. And the sting from my erection stretching the tattooed skin is as visceral as the pain in my chest.

Snagging a cushion, I hold it over my face and roar into it. The cushion muffles the sound of them fucking, but I don’t want to be spared. I want to hear her enjoy herself with him. I want to know that she’s taken care of. I just wish I hadn’t screwed things up so badly between us that I’m shut out.

I’ve heard her cries so many times I know when he’s fucking her slow and when he speeds up. I know when she loses the rhythm as she comes for him.

Her cries speed up. Get louder.

I drop the cushion on the carpet. She wants me to hear her. She wants to torture me. Maybe that’s the only opening she can give me right now. But it’s still an opening.

I grab onto it with my whole chest and both ears. If my cock didn’t hurt from the tattoo, I would wrap my hand around it and stroke myself to her perfect fucking song.

Come in my hand while she orgasms with him.

14

Kodiak

Tongue buried in her pussy, I grind the pad of my thumb against her clit until she’s a moaning, shaking mess on the verge of coming. What a hell of a way to wake up. Her naked body crawling over mine while she tells me she’s been thinking about riding my face all night.

My cock had gotten instantly hard, and I’d picked her up and placed her on my face.

She’s so wet, her juices slide down my throat. “Scary Girl, you taste so damn sweet.”

She grabs hold of the headboard and fucks my mouth harder. “Less talking. More eating.”

I smirk against her pussy lips. “Fuck, you’re bossy when you’re on top.”

“Kodiak,” she moans.

I stop talking and get down to the business of tongue fucking her into the orgasm she’s chasing. She screams when she comes, her thighs tight to my ears, her entire weight grinding into my face. Fuck, that’s sexy.

When it’s over, she gets off my face and rolls onto her back next to me. Her chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Good one, huh?” I cover her belly with my hand. My fingers span from hip to hip. She’s less skin and bones than she was when she joined us weeks ago, but she still seems so fragile. She might be the toughest woman I’ve ever met who wasn’t from my world, but she needs someone who can take care of her.

“There is nothing hotter than a man who likes it when a woman sits on his face.” She grins at me.

“You can sit on mine any time you want, Scary Girl.” Grabbing a condom, I roll it down my cock before I crawl on top of her. She smells sweet and vaguely of alcohol. And she kisses like she’s been thinking about me all night. Her hips come up to nestle me, and she wriggles against my hard cock until the head slips between her folds.

“Fuck.” She whimpers.