Page 144 of Rewind It Back

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He shakes his head to tell me nothing before reaching over his head to take his shirt off in one fluid motion, tossing it to the floor.

He’s stunning. Tan skin, defined but lean muscles, and ink. Black and sprawling over his left side. And when he doesn’t make a move to touch or kiss me again, I realize he’s waiting for me to look at it in more detail.

There are a few tattoos, and I’d call all of them new because they’re new to me, but I couldn’t tell you what the others are. My attention is fixated on only one.

“Hallie,” Rio says tentatively. “Say something.”

I can’t. I’m speechless. Because how am I supposed to speak when my eyes are glued to what is essentially my last name, tattooed as a heart, inked over hisactualheart?

Hesitantly, I reach out, gently running my fingers over the black ink, following the curves and the dip until I stop to cover the overdrawn portion where it was supposed to stop, but never did.

My heart.

Hisheart, really, when I think about how many times he fixated on my signatures from the mixtapes and CDs I gave him.

It’s my favorite part.

“In case you’re still wondering if I ever forgot about you,” he says softly, “I got this three years ago. Three yearsafterI saw you last.”

“Why?”

“I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that, Hal.”

“Tell me anyway.”

I can’t stop running my fingers over it, pausing at the same point where he used to stop. It’s an exact replica of my handwriting and everything, clearly taken from one of those tapes or CDs.

“Because it’s always been us.” With his knuckle, he tilts my chin up so I look at him. “Even when I thought I didn’t want it to be, I knew it was us. I sat there getting this permanently inked onto my skin, trying to convince myself I was only getting it as a reminder that love existed when the whole fucking time, I knew it only existed with you.”

Well...shit.

His complete and utter honesty has my lips falling open. It has my heart racing and my skin heating.

I didn’t know being someone’s everything could be such a turn-on.

I run my fingers down, brushing over his ribs and abs, tracing the lines of that V that may as well be a road map to his dick. I unclasp his pants, unzip the fly, and push them over his stupidly perfect ass, past his thick thighs, until they’re pooling at the floor.

He kicks himself out of them, fingers pushing my hair out of my face. “You like hearing that?”

Nodding, I lean in and kiss him, dragging my lips over his jaw and down his neck, working a path over his chest as I begin to kneel.

“Wait, Hal. I want to take care of you first.”

Shaking my head, I continue to drop, brushing my lips over my tattoo before I’m too low.

“Fuck,” he exhales, tossing his head back.

I use his thighs to hold on to, looking up at him, and really playing up that whole doe-eyed thing.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “You look so pretty on your knees.”

“Is this what you picture when you’re getting yourself off?”

He nods, eyes trailing all over my face and body, hand running languidly through my hair. “You look like an angel in white, but the way your tits are propped up right now is downright sinful.”

Squirming, I push my knees together, searching for a bit of friction.

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