Page 57 of Hale
“How big do you want it?” I ask as I pick up the same marker she used for my tattoo and pull off the cap.
“The same size as yours.”
I sit on the chair and splay my palm on her back again, thankful for the excuse to touch her. Slowly and carefully, I sign my last name along her ribs. A sense of possessiveness washes over me at seeing my last name on her body.
“I like it,” I mutter as I admire my handiwork.
“Then I’ll love it.”
“Come on,” I say as I lock the front door behind us. She giggles as I drag her through the darkened house and into the kitchen. I release her hand to lift the lid off the cardboard container. “What the fuck?”
She turns on the kitchen light. “You got me a cake!” Then her sweet laughter fills the kitchen. “Well, you got Heather a cake.”
“That little asshole at the counter had to be told three times how to spell heathen and he still fucked it up.” I grumble as I try to drag the pink icing with my pinky on the “r” down to make it look like an “n.” “I knew I should have checked it before I left the store.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” she says, her brown eyes twinkling with delight. “Dad was always in charge of the cakes and they always came out special.”
I grin because Dad would always get so pissed when they’d fuck the cakes up. But after enough times of us all laughing at his over-the-top reactions, I almost wonder if he didn’t sabotage the cakes on purpose after that.
Her smile falls and as she no doubt remembers our father. “I miss him.”
“I miss him too.” Playfully, I swipe her cheek with the icing on my pinky. Her squeal gets my dick hard.
“You ass!” She swats at me, but I grab her wrist and pull her to me.
“You want me to clean it off?” I tease as I pin her with my hips against the bar. I grip her chin and lick her cheek. She squirms and yells, but the laughter that freely flows from both of us unlocks something inside of me.
Hope. Love. Excitement. Happiness.
All the feelings I danced around my entire life but never partnered up with have finally begun to find their rhythm.
“Don’t you want to have more than this?”
“I just love her,” I say, trying again, but my argument has weakened.
“But you may not in four years. I want you to experience life a little bit. Then, if Amy and you are still together, I wish you both the best.”
Looking back, the way I felt for Amy was strong, but it wasn’t this overpowering, thrilling, soul-branding sensation that has burned through me the moment I began to give in to my desires for Rylie.
Rylie is everything.
Her gaze has softened and she’s no longer squirming. She’s staring up at me as if I’m her whole world. The feeling is mutual. I slide my palms to her face and then thread my fingers into her hair. Tilting her head back, I stare at her plump lips that have now parted. Everyfuckingthing about her is worth my time. I could stare at her all day long and never get bored.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur.
“So are you, Hudson.”
Now that we’re free of prying eyes, I kiss her slowly. Softly at first. Then, I hungrily nip and suck at her fat bottom lip. Her moans are all for me and I wring more of them from her by the way I easily dominate her mouth. A groan rumbles through me when her palms slide up my chest over my shirt.
I want to do everything with her.
All the things Mom promised were waiting for me.
Why does the universe have to be such a cunt?
This is worse than some cosmic trick. This is cosmic sadism.
Pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, I murmur out my complaint. “We were meant to be together. I can fucking feel it with everything I am. It’s not fair, Ry.”
