Page 72 of On My Side
“I’ve been tested since my last partner, and everything came back negative,” he breathes.
“They did a full testing panel at my annual a few years ago, and my last partner was Piper’s dad. Everything was negative.”
He nods once before his eyes drift to my collarbone. “Show me where I marked you.” His voice is husky and needy and god, I’ll bottle it and bathe in it because it makes me feel as beautiful as starlight. “Please, sweetheart. I’ve been imagining it for over a week.”
I oblige, pulling the collar of the cheap costume I got five years ago just enough that he can see it. It’s faded a bit, but is still visible. He groans, and my stomach clenches knowing we both know exactly what it represents—how needy I am for him.
“Touch me,” I beg, pathetic and not caring.
“Tell me where.”
“Everywhere.”
He tenses. “Are you sure? Last time you didn’t want me to touch your breasts. Has that changed?”
My stomach clenches and I don’t want to be embarrassed, but I am. Breastfeeding changed the appearance and shape of my breasts and I know there’s nothing wrong with them but… I still feel self-conscious. I still see the way that guy looked at me so long ago. I still beat myself up for not “bouncing back” the way magazines and celebrities said I was supposed to. I have a hanging belly with sagging skin and stretch marks and breasts with nipples that point to the floor.
I’ve worked hard to treat my body with kindness, because I know how Piper sees me treating and talking about my body will be how she treats and talks about her own.
But alone, I still grieve the body I thought I would have, and I hate myself for it.
“No,” I finally say. “No, that hasn’t changed. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he promises, voice gentle. “I’ll give you whatever you need, sweetheart, however you need it.”
I pull him into another kiss because how could I not? He keeps meeting me exactly where I am, and more than that, lessening myshamefor being where I am.
“I’m gonna reach over you to put your phone on the nightstand, okay?” he murmurs against my lips.
I nod frantically. “Yes, and then you’ll touch me?”
Ren’s grip on my thighs tightens andgod, I hope I have his fingerprints imprinted on my skin. His touch leaves my skin as he reaches over me. “Face up?”
“No, face down,” I answer before pausing. “Wait, are we talking about me or the phone?”
He laughs. “The phone.”
“Face down,” I say definitively. I trust Piper. I trustmyself. I deserve this.
He chuckles again as he straightens and adjusts himself so he’s kneeling between my legs again. “You’re keeping your eyes on me tonight, sweetheart. I’ll take you from behind another time.”
He pulls his tunic over his head in one smooth movement and nothing, I meannothing, could have prepared me for the sight of his bare chest. He’s tattooed in the places that weren’t visible in the clothes he’s worn, and my toes curl as I drink in the sight of him. His torso is muscular, a heavy dusting of the same chestnut hair as his head and face. A gold chain with a small medallion hangs around his neck, and it takes every bit of willpower to not reach out and run my fingers along it like he does when he’s nervous. My eyes drift downward, following the strip of hair that extends from his navel to the very hot, very sexy V of his hips, and farther still under the waistband of his pants.
I think I’d be salivating no matter what he looked like naked. Because it’s him, and he’s fucking beautiful.
“You have tattoos,” I say, tracing the floral lightsaber piece on his side.
“Yeah… Millie needed to practice when she was an apprentice, and I wanted to help.” He points to one on the inside of his left shoulder blade. “See that? Her very first one.”
I squint my eyes. “What is it?”
“A butterfly. It somehow looks more like SpongeBob with three eyes.” His smile while speaking about it is radiant. He’s so obviously proud of his younger sister. “The first dozen or so wererough, and she’s since covered them. I won’t let her touch this one, though.”
I softly trace the misshapen butterfly, my heart so full it could burst. “It’s special, because it was her first one,” I say softly, thinking about how special Piper’s firsts were to me.
“Can I touch you, Aud?” he asks, voice raspy.
“Please.”
