Page 117 of Bake the Town Red

There’s hurt and a hint of guilt in her eyes.Iput those feelings there.

No one’s ever witnessed this wounded side of her before, not even her brother. I’m sure of that. And it guts me. Splinters my heart into a million pieces.

I should’ve been clearer when I cut all ties to her.

I’m to blame for this. All me.

“Never. I’m sorry, Dahl. So fucking sorry that you passed even a single second thinking that.”

“Not your fault.” She gives me a shrug that’s supposed to meanI’m finewhen she absolutely isn’t.

“I hated the universe. Our fate. You know this. You also know that I have been scared for your life ever since.” I twist us to the mirror, standing between it and Dahlia. “Every second that we’re together, I’m expecting a car crash. The ceiling collapsing over us. A stroke so violent that you’ll be gone in a second. But you were right. You’ve always been right. Nothing will come between us ever again. My heart won’t let it. No matter what, I won’t let it. I’m sorry for taking so long. I’m sorry for leaving you. So incredibly sorry.”

Apologies are more than a mixture of vowels and consonants. Apologies are actions.

One knee after the other, I fall to the floor before Dahlia. She doesn’t look at her reflection in the mirror, though. Not at mine either. Her focus rests solely on my face. Her small hands cup my cheeks.

“There is such a thing as fate, that I’m sure of.” I’m strong enough to keep her body upright while I pull one of her legs over my shoulder. Resilient enough to endure her death grip on my hair. “You and I, we were destined to meet each other. Destined to live and die together.” I lick her swollen lips, her taut clit. Her arousal that drips on my chin. “It’s fate that brought your family to live in our apartment building. That same fate…” I explain myself to her while taking short breathing breaks from sucking on her clit. She’s still moaning for me when I do. “Did the rest. Fate drove your brother to the edge of his sanity and beyond. Fate made him slaughter everyone in the building for failing you two.”

“Life will find a way to fuck us over again.” The words are chopped as she moans and cries. “That’s why you’ve been scared. I’m not angry. I could never be angry with you for hurting. I just missed you. It hurt how much I missed you.”

Her face is a mess. Tears and spit and cum, all proof that she’s mine. Her pussy too. She clenches while I eat her out and talk against her sensitive skin.

“We’ll have each other, Dahlia. No matter what.”

“No matter what.”

“Look in the mirror,” I order.

She follows. Gazes up. First, her eyes zero in on her breast. On her tattoo that saysMine. She might have caught a glimpse of my back, but she hasn’tlooked. I’m positive she hasn’t, that she’s captivated by the new ink.

I don’t mention it. Can’t do anything but eat her out. Swirl my tongue around her clit. Flick it. Go fast, then slow, until she’s trembling in my grasp. Until she’s fucking my face and then she comes for me, cursing and moaning and looking deep into my eyes.

“Tyler.” She’s exhausted, I can tell. I tug on her hand to take her to bed when she stops me. Her chin is held high, shoulders pulled back. Proud despite being seconds from passing out. “You owe me. I get to tattoo you too.”

“You already have.”

“What?”

Releasing her is torture. It’s a necessity. I disentangle my fingers from hers, turning from her.

Giving her the view of my back.

It’s quiet for a while. I only hear her heartbeat.

Curious fingertips explore my shoulder blades where the large, black wings start. They slide down along my back. Both her hands splay on either side of my spine. Between them, there’s the sword the woman on my back is wielding.

Thatshe’swielding.

“Tyler.” Her thumbs move higher, stopping right between my shoulder blades.

She sucks in a breath, holding completely still. I don’t have to see what she sees to know what has her in a chokehold.

I’m the one who gave the tattoo artist a picture of her. I’m the one who told him to draw Dahlia’s face under the dark hood of the angel of death on my back.

I did. Me. Her lover. Her admirer.

No words leave her. She needs to rest. She needs to be taken care of, and I can’t stay here while she’s running low on sleep. The month hasn’t ended yet, and every second we’re here is another that she doesn’t sleep.

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