Page 92 of Total Shutdown

She lifts her head from my shoulder, twisting around to face me. “You know I was. In fact, I’m trying to decide whether what we just did in there”—she nods toward the stairs leading to my bedroom—“beats it, or if I prefer being suspended with my legs wrapped around your shoulders.”

I press my lips to the flawless skin peeking out above the oversize collar of the shirt she’s wearing. When we finished up in the bedroom, we showered together, and I handed her one of my original Blades training shirts, desperate to see her in it. She didn’t hesitate to throw it on, and now I’m starting to picture what my name across her back would look like.

How much my last name would suit her. Period.

“Can I ask you something?” I murmur against her pebbled skin.

Her body tenses only a fraction, but it’s still noticeable, and I hate it—a reminder that despite us officially dating, I know I have a long way to go before her walls crumble entirely.

“Sure, go ahead.”

I pick up the TV remote from the couch armrest and pause the movie, plunging my living space into silence.

Without me asking, she turns to look at me, and I interlace my fingers through the hand she has resting on my stomach.

“Come straddle me for a second, Baby Girl.”

She sets the popcorn on the coffee table and does as I ask, my dick instantly straining against the athletic shorts I’m wearing.

With a soft touch, her fingernail traces a wave tattoo stamped across my left pec, dropping to the bar pierced through my nipple. She frequently plays with that, and I love how much she enjoys it. It’s so sensitive, and it makes me horny as fuck.

I watch her carefully for a second. She isn’t wearing makeup since she removed it in the shower—yes, a couple of weeks ago, I bought a whole bunch of female products, including a Dior cleansing kit and their entire skin care line. You know, just so she didn’t have any excuse not to stay over at my place.

“Is the mermaid tattoo significant?” I get the feeling it is since I know Collins well enough to work out that she doesn’t do permanence lightly.

Her stunning brown eyes study me, and I feel the heat between her thighs, making me harder.

I set my hands on her hips, a little like I would if she were riding me.

She blows a soft breath through her nose, toying with my piercing. “The tattoo itself isn’t really significant. I just liked the design and needed something large and detailed to cover the scars.”

I pull back, really not anticipating that answer. “Scars?”

“Yeah, from when I had my motocross accident.” She chuckles softly, an edge of cynicism to the sound. “I’ve had my fair share of incidents, but that was my most serious.” She releases my nipple, hands falling to the hem of her shirt as she swipes it clean over her head in one motion.

In a black thong, she’s otherwise completely naked and in my lap. In so many ways, this is my dream situation—Collins almost naked on my couch, straddling me in such an intimate position. But the way she’s opening up right now fully steals the breath from my lungs.

“What happened?” I ask, tracing my thumb slowly down her side, and I pause when I feel the evidence hidden expertly beneath black ink.

She takes ahold of my hand and moves my thumb lower, and I can feel the bumps left by stitches continuing across the length of her rib cage, stopping just before her hip. Since the scars are old, they’re tiny, but it breaks my heart to think of anything hurting Collins.

“That photo album you found? Well, the pictures in there were taken the day before. I was riding into a hairpin bend, but I didn’t lean into the turn correctly, I was too distracted by a girl heading up my inside.” She closes her eyes, perhaps reliving the moment. “I lost control of the bike and hit the deck—hard.”

She opens her eyes and looks at me, the pain unmistakable. What happened still hurts her far beyond the physical injuries she sustained.

“I was thrown from the bike, and in the unluckiest turn of events, I opened my side up on a jagged rock. I broke multiple ribs and punctured a lung. It was bad—really bad—touch and go at one point, to be honest.”

My throat is thick, voice hoarse when I speak again. “Is that why you stopped competing?”

She nods lightly, hand back to my nipple, which is perfectly aligned with hers, only an inch away. “The physical injuries ended my season, but I could’ve gone back. I just didn’t want to. I fell out with the sport that had cost my parents so much in time and money and then almost my life. I ended up resenting it for more reasons than I gave you in the Botanic Garden that night. I guess my passion for bikes didn’t die, but my love for the sport and being held to schedules and training and constantly competing to be the best just pissed me off. So, I quit.”

I look up at her, thumb still tracing her side. “And do you regret anything?”

She shakes her head immediately. “I try and avoid regrets. It helps nothing since you can’t take anything back. I might be a little wild, but I always think things through before making a decision.”

The need to kiss Collins moves my hand to the back of her head, and I pull her down to my lips. “I know you do, and that’s why I’ll never take you or us for granted. I want you to know you have me, and I know Ezra is going to be so fucking happy that we’re finally giving us a shot. There’s so much more I want to say b?—”

“Say it,” she jumps in. “Say what’s on your mind.”

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