Page 86 of Warrior

He’s my brother.

My twin.

I trust him to know me when I cannot… but I don’t think there’s any way I amokay.

And I don’t think I ever will be again.

20SAINT

The tattoo is done.

We took some breaks, of course. I couldn’t make her sit still in the chair for six hours straight. We ordered dinner, stretched our legs…

Meanwhile, I’ve been fighting a freaking hard-on since I turned around and her breasts were staring at me. It didn’t diminish much when she told me about Terror. Specifically, about Reese and then, later, Apollo’s rescue.

I can’t figure out if I hate Reese or if I want to give the poor guy a hug. From watching Wolfe operate with his father, I know that some things cannot be helped. Like controlling parents putting their kids in impossible situations.

It speaks to Tem’s panic attacks, however. Seeing him after all those years must’ve been a shock. And having him appear in Bow & Arrow? The very building that used to hold Terror.

Now, I wipe over the tattoo a final time and release her to look at it.

Her legs shake, and she glances at me with a frown.

I frown back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Right… why don’t I believe that? The downturn of her lips remains in place until she sees the final tattoo, and then a wide smile overtakes it. She leans in, her finger hovering over one of the delicate flowers at the top of the scales.

She asked whythis.

It’s because she is the balance.

“Tem.”

She turns back.

I apply the second skin—a film that will protect it in its initial healing stage, then touch my fingertips to her shoulders. I back her against the chair, and she sits on the edge. Her lips part. I drop onto the stool and inch closer.

My cock is rock-hard now. It strains against my pants, but I manage to ignore it in favor of the girl in front of me. She told me a story—a truth—I’m never going to forget.

Time to show my appreciation.

I move slowly, pulling down her leggings. She rises a bit and helps me get it down, and once the fabric is around her ankles, I lean in. Hands on her knees, pressing her wider. Her pussy is wet and flushed, and I can’t help but lick my lips.

“You don’t have to do that,” she whispers above me.

Have to. I don’t—I want to taste her so bad it hurts. My anticipation has been building and building, and I cannot resist any longer.

This isn’t totally about me anyway. I just put her through pain, and now she should get pleasure.

She sat so beautifully for me.

I kiss the inside of her thigh, by her knee, then drag my lips higher. She shivers and grips the chair on either side of her. I keep moving, licking at her soft skin, kissing. Nipping. I switch to the other leg and continue the climb, until I reach the crease of her leg.

I inhale her scent, then lick at her outer lips. I suck one into my mouth, testing how sensitive she is to me. I want to bring my hand up, to slide my finger inside her, but they’re glued to her knees. I spread her open wider and settle in, my hot breath hitting her core.

A pause.

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