Page 31 of In the Cover of Darkness

Ican not stop smiling, and Ace has not stopped giving me shit, trying to get me to spill what happened between Mila and me. She is still asleep upstairs, so I decided to make her breakfast in bed, only to come downstairs to find Ace already in the kitchen. I know she said for nothing to change between us, but having everything out in the open feels like I just won the lottery, and I'm struggling to contain it.

“That's it,” Ace says, slapping his hands on the bench, getting up from where he was sitting on the bar stool. "I'm going to go and wake her up and ask her if you don't tell me why you're walking around looking like someone slapped you with … whatever the fuck you've been slapped with. It makes me uncomfortable man, you smiling all the time. It's weird.”

“Okay, okay. Sit down and don't you dare go and wake her.”

“Did you guys finally fuck the tension out?” he says, holding onto the bench, imitating humping it.

“Shut the fuck up, and don't talk about her like that. No, we didn't fuck as you so delicately put it. She is not like that, she's not a one time thing, Ace.”

“I know man, but you've been walking around like a lost puppy since you both got here. I get the circumstances are unusual but I'm just saying you both clearly like each other so it was going to happen eventually.”

Unable to wipe the massive smile from my face, I lean back against the bench looking at Ace and say, “She said she's falling for me, brother. We are going to take it slow, but she's it for me man, no other woman will compare.”

“I'm happy for you D, I really am. Just don't go rubbing your love shit near me. I'm not cut out for all that,” waving his hand in the air, gesturing to me.

“I thought that too, but just you wait. It will hit you when you least expect it and there's no point trying to fight it. It's like a tsunami, brother. There's nothing you can do.”

“Speak of the devil herself,” Ace says looking to the stairwell and the dishevelled ray of sunshine standing at the bottom. She takes my breath away most of the time but right now, this part of the day is my favourite. She's still half asleep, rubbing her eyes constantly, trying to adjust to the light of a new day. Her hair is half sticking up in a mess, and she usually puts on one of my jumpers because the morning chill has not left the house. She said, when I first asked why she doesn't just get changed into a full outfit, that it's because my jumpers are so big it's basically like putting on pants anyways, and I'm not complaining if it gives me a chance to stare at her luscious legs.

I can't wait to feel them wrapped around my head while I feast on her pussy, have them tight around my waist while I fuck her hard, before taking my time with her, edging her until shes screaming my name.

Fuck.

Okay, now I’m hard.

Quickly, I turn back and fake check on the bacon so I can adjust myself, hoping no one has noticed. Ace clears his throat several times, gaining my attention, and when I turn back I can see he's nodding his head in Mila's direction.

“Right you two lovebirds, I've got the dogs outside, and I'll be in the barn when you've finished training,” Ace says, keeping his eyes averted from Mila. Looking at her I instantly see what happened, and I start taking my jumper off and make my way over. This would have to be one of the few mornings that she's only wearing my T-shirt and it's an old one too. So Ace, knowing that I've killed men for less, bowed out of the room when he realised her nipples were hard and practically visible through the old cotton.

“Here baby, put this on,” I say gently, placing my jumper over her head.

“Huh. No, I'm fine. It's a bit warmer this morning,” she says, looking up at me, still putting her arms through the sleeves, as she tries to wake up.

“The T-shirt is a little worn is all,” I say, clearing my throat. “A little see through in the light.”

This gets her attention, and she looks up at me with one eye open, squinting.

“See through huh? So you're saying you had a free show to the titty committee and you're intentionally giving back the tickets?” she says now with a big grin on her face. Gods, I want to kiss her when she's like this.

Trying to think of a logical response to why any red blooded man would turn away from such a view, especially from the woman he's basically in love with. I arrive at nothing because all that's consuming my thoughts is a montage of Mila's hard nipples catching the morning light. So I do the only thing that comes naturally to me, I growl softly, shake my head and walk back into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee.

Less than a second after I get a mug from the cupboard, I'm standing at the bench, reaching for the coffee decanter. I feel her arms wrap around my waist, and her firm breasts against my back, as she says laughing, “They're just nipples, Dante. They won't bite.”

“No baby, but I do,” I growl, as I hold her arms around my waist, grinning at the comfort we have with each other. Unwrapping herself from me, ignoring my obvious comment, I pass her a cup of coffee as she moves to sit on top of the kitchen bench, partaking in her usual routine of whispering sweet nothings, and moaning softly as she takes a sip.

Serving up a plate of bacon and eggs, I stand in front of her placing the full plate to her side.

Unexpectedly, she takes our close proximity to tug on the henley I had on under my jumper and pulls me so I'm standing in between her legs. Placing her coffee down, she grins at me and says, “You show me yours, and I'll show you mine.” Maybe she didn't ignore my comment after all.

My breath hitches, surely she can't mean what I think she's suggesting. I place a hand on either side of her, looking down at my jumper bunched high on her thighs. It gives me flashbacks of squeezing her ass in the truck the day before, but we agreed on slow, to wait until she's ready.

She places her hands tentatively on my shoulders and softly says, “I've seen glimpses of your tattoos but I've not seen them properly. Will you show me them?”

Looking back at her face I can see her curiosity, and in one swift motion, I remove my henley so I'm standing in front of her, still between her legs, my chest, arms and scars, all on display. Taking her time, she traces over the tattoos, slowly running her fingers over each scar she finds.

Still leaning over her slightly I don't need to look at where she's touching to see what her hands are tracing. My body depicts a raging war between heaven and hell, gods and the devil, right and wrong. However you look at it, half of my body shows an assortment of bad people, characters and skeletons, clashing and fighting with their opposites. Early in my deployment, I saw historic churches with similar carvings adoring their doors and walls. The fight within me raged in a similar fashion, and I felt a need to reflect that on my body, so I did.

Over the years when time allowed, I would get another part of the war in my head tattooed on my skin until there's almost nowhere left to cover. If I'm wearing long sleeves and pants, you can see parts peaking out, more obviously creeping up my neck and on the backs of my hands. Otherwise, my body is completely covered.

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