Page 139 of Changing Rules

I press my hand to his breastbone, my skin growing warm. “You do, I promise. Youknowthe answer.”

For a moment, it feels like we’ve gone back in time. Like we’re back in the darkness of his living room two years ago, when he told me about Stacey’s suicide attempt, about what Jake did to her, when he confessed his feelings for me. He is my guy.My person. The one I fell in love with and couldn’t stop loving even when I was certain we were over for good.

“Are you still curious about my tattoos?” I whisper.

He looks up, a cute smile lighting up his handsome face. “Yes. Will you show them to me?” The gravel in his tone has heat blooming in my lower abdomen.

“Yes.” I move closer, holding my arm out to him. Gently, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and brings it closer to his face.

“‘Don’t just exist, live.’” He looks at me. “Why birds, though?”

“Birds are free,” I say, scooting a little closer. “They can fly anywhere. Every year, they leave their home to spend winter where it’s warm and sunny.” I lick my lips, shivering under the intensity of his gaze. “I was a bird in a cage, simply existing. Then I finally chose myself. I spread my wings and took off in hopes of finding a better life. And now,I live.”

“Beautifully said, and it suits you.” He ghosts his fingers over my skin, and I hold my breath, enjoying his gentle caress. “What about the one on your neck? I haven’t gotten a good look at it.”

With a smile, I turn around and push my hair aside. All the while, my heart pounds.

This one is about him.

He moves closer, his hot breath on my neck, sending tingles down my spine. I close my eyes, anticipating his touch.

He doesn’t disappoint. “‘Wild one.’” He clears his throat, trying hard to sound unaffected. “And my number. Seventeen.”

“Don’t forget, I was born on the seventeenth,” I tease.

He cuffs the back of my neck from behind and squeezes. The move instantly makes my clit throb. With a low rumble, he squeezes a little harder, forcing me to look at him.

“What?”

“It’s my number, isn’t it?” His eyes swim with desperation. He wants this tattoo to be about him. “Bella?”

“Yes,” I confess, my nipples pebbling under my tee. “I’m a wild one with you. Only you, because you’re the same.”

He growls in my ear and splays his other hand on my stomach, embracing me from behind. “The third tattoo.” He gives my neck another gentle squeeze. “Where is it?”

The gravel in his voice and the warmth of his touch make my eyes roll back. With a thick swallow, I tap his hand, and when he releases me, I carefully turn around and assess him. If eye-fucking really existed, I’d be floating on the waves of an endless orgasm right now.

His attention is exhilarating, the heat in his expression erotic.

All my sanity has clearly been washed away by those same waves. I take off my T-shirt, and goosebumps scatter over my exposed skin. I’m not wearing a bra, so I cover my breasts with one arm, nerves skittering down my spine.

“Where is it?” His words are dripping with need, his expression one of absolute hunger.

I turn slightly so he can see it, ready to give him an explanation. I assume he’ll ask for the meaning behind it, but instead he drags a hand over his mouth and zeroes in on my face.

“Even miles apart, we think the same way.”

I’m still trying to process his words when he pulls his tee over his head and tosses it to the floor. I swallow hard, my gaze frantically moving up his form. He smirks, probably knowing it’s virtually impossible for me to find a new tattoo on his alreadyink-filled chest. He points to a space on his left pec, and warmth envelops me.

Trust.

In the time we were apart, we each tattooed the word on our bodies. Mine is inked just below my right breast, while his is over his left nipple.

“What does it mean? Why that word?” I ask, my lips trembling.

“What you said when you left stuck in my head. You told me I lacked trust in you, in your ability to handle your problems yourself.” He clears his throat. “You were right. In my attempts to keep you safe, I caged you in. I was a fucking asshole, and I got this tattoo so I’d never forget to believe in you. You are a survivor, Bella. A warrior. A phoenix. You’re my girl, and I can’t live without you.”

Before he’s even finished speaking, I’m straddling him. This urge, this impulse, never faded. I’m as hot for him as he is for me. His lips sear my skin, burning a trail up my neck until I’m begging him to fuck me.

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