Page 61 of Never Really Mine
“You like?” Beau says teasingly.
I groan, shutting my eyes. “I like being able to see your tattoos.” I can’t see his reaction, but he squeezes my palm again.
Neither Beau, nor I have brought up his new tattoo again. It’s not like it’s a taboo subject, but to be honest, I’m a little scared to do it. Scared to confront the emotions that I’m sure will come with it. When I got my own butterfly tattoo, I was at a low. I got it because butterflies have always signified change for me. A metamorphosis. I was ready to let go and start over, morph into something new, and let the flowers of my life bloom. I felt like I’d lost Beau, the one person I could always lean on. I knew my lifewas going to change, it just changed in a way I never would have expected.
But Beau’s tattoo… it has to mean something. He’s called me butterfly off and on since we were kids, and more frequently since I’ve gotten pregnant. And now, he has a beautiful antique clock, with three butterflies flying out of it. I can’t think about it or I’ll get choked up. I can’t think about the fact that maybe those three butterflies signify me and the twins. Our babies and the life we’ve made.
“I like seeing your tattoos, too.” He uses the hand he had on my leg, to rest on the swell of my stomach. “Do you think you will get a tattoo for the babies?” he asks, rubbing soft circles over my sweatshirt.
Opening my eyes, I shrug. Beau is glancing down at his hand. The babies aren’t super active right now, probably sleeping. I’ve been able to feel them pretty frequently, but Beau hasn’t been able to catch it yet.
“I’m not sure. Probably. I don’t know what, though.” I hesitate, then ask, “Will you?”
Beau’s hand stills on my belly. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I…” he starts speaking slowly. “I already did.”
My heart clenches tightly in my chest at the subtle confirmation of what I already knew. “You did?”
Beau shifts, angling his arm so I can see his shoulder clearly. He lifts his palm from my stomach, and gently traces the three butterflies. “This one,” he says, pointing to the one closest to the clock, “is you. The other two are the babies.”
As I process his words, confirming what I already suspected, he keeps speaking. “The clock… The clock is obviously a symbol of time, but the hands point up, toward you. To me, it means that there is never going to be enough time with you. With the family we are making.”
“Beau…” His name cracks as I speak, every wall I’ve built crumbles down into rubble at our feet. I sit forward, doing my best so I don’t look like a beached whale in this pivotal moment. Reaching, I brush my fingertips over the tattoo. It’s so detailed, the butterflies so perfectly symmetrical. If I look close enough, I can make out the shape of an M in the wings of the butterfly that represents me. “I… thank you.”
Beau shrugs. “You mean more to me than anyone in this world, and now the babies will be the center of ours.”
I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to really understand, but he’s in this. He’s really in this, really there for me. For our family and this life that we’ve created. Without a second thought, I lean forward, cupping his cheek in my palm, and press my lips to his.
37
BEAU
Marley’s lips are against mine. Her soft, plump lower lip parts, and I take that as an invitation to take control of the kiss. Her hand cups my cheek, and I reach out, doing the same to hers. Her bump is in the middle of us, proof of the beautiful things we created. My other hand trails down her neck to rest on her breastbone. Her sweatshirt is thick between us, and while I don’t want to rush it, I want it off her. I want to feel her soft skin underneath me again. To feel the curve of her breasts, the peak of her nipples in my mouth.
I let my teeth gently nip at her lip, loving how pliant she is. She isn’t fighting this, isn’t drunk, isn’t doing it to prove anything. She’s giving herself to me willingly. She hasn’t let me kiss her for more than a peck every so often, and fuck if I haven’t missed the way she tastes. More so, she hasn’t taken the lead on a kiss, touch, or even second glance with me, so this feels different.
“Marley,” I groan into her mouth. She arches her neck, leaning away from the kiss, but giving me more access to her. The hand I had on her cheek moves down, sliding down to her waist, to those thick and ample curves that I fucking love somuch. I lift the band of her sweatshirt up so my hand is on her bare skin. The touch gives her goosebumps, and I press kisses to her neck, accentuating my touches.
“This isn’t going to work,” Marley breathlessly whispers.
And just like that, my chest squeezes. “Don’t say that,” I murmur with conviction. “This will work. Itisworking.”
“No, Beau,” Marley reiterates. She pushes against my chest with her palm. “I mean like, literally. This,” she gestures to her swollen bump. “This is too in the way.”
Realization dawns. “We can adapt,” I murmur, kissing her again. “For now, I just want you to lay back and enjoy. Can you do that?”
Marley darts out her tongue, swiping it over that bottom lip of hers, now swollen from my kisses. Her eyes are glazed over, eager for what will happen next. She nods, letting me tug her sweatshirt up and off her body.
She’s bare underneath. No t-shirt, no bra. Just her beautiful skin. Her nipples have darkened and her breasts have grown even more since the last time I had my mouth on them. I have to hold in the feral moan I feel rising up my throat.
My head drops, and I take one of her nipples into my mouth. Marley jolts underneath me, her hands threading into my hair. I multitask, using my tongue to flick at her nipples, while one hand pinches the peaked bud of her other nipple, and the other hand slides down her skin to her pants. The leggings cling to her body, accentuating every curved and rounded edge. I let my mouth continue its work while I shimmy her leggings down. I free her nipple to lean back and watch what I’m doing.
When I reveal her worn blue cotton panties, I let out a moan. Don’t get me wrong, I imagine this woman in lacy panties and lingerie nearly every day, but there’s something so real about this moment. It’s unplanned, unprompted, and just… real.
“Goddamn, butterfly.” I groan, eager to have a taste of her. I scoot down the couch, pulling her panties down her legs as I do. When I get a glimpse of that pretty pussy, I nearly lose it. My dick throbs in my sweats, like it’s reminding me that it needs attention, but it will have to wait. My focus is on Marley, and to be honest, I could care less if I come or not. I just want to make her feel good, to make sure she knows how much I want her. “I can’t wait to feel you come on my mouth again.”
Marley shivers in anticipation. I lower my body, my aim directly on her clit. When my tongue makes first contact, swiping up the length of her slit, she jerks under the touch. She sucks in heavy breaths as I tease her with my tongue. She tastes so good, like everything I’ve ever needed. I move to her clit, swirling and flicking at it, trying to learn what she likes.
Her grip on my hair tightens, giving me some insight that she’s enjoying it. I don’t have much room on the couch, but I’m making it work somehow. Next time—because therewillbe a next time, and soon—we do this, I’ll make sure we have more room.
