Page 71 of Grave Misgivings
“It’s a secret.”
Geo rolls his eyes, huffing in annoyance. “What did you get it on your ass or something?”
I smirk at him and don’t miss the way his cheeks stain with scarlet blush.
“You got a fucking tattoo on yourass?”
I laugh with a shrug. “I was twenty-one!”
He shakes his head, laughing, and the sound is so pure and genuine, I can’t help but smile.
I rarely think about theHellbounddevil tail tattoo I got on my ass on a dare, because I can’t see it. I forget it’s there half thetime. Until someone points it out, of course, after they take my fucking pants off, which is always an awkward conversation.
I reach out without thinking, setting my hand on his hip, tracing my thumb over the black outline of his cross just above his waistband.
His skin is smooth and hard against digit, and I marvel at the intricate outline, the inside filled in black ink. It really is a stunning tattoo, even if it takes up the majority of his chest and torso.
“How long did that take?” I ask.
I trace my fingers up the outline, following the trail across his chest. I half expect him to push me away, because I know it’s kind of an inappropriate touch, but he doesn’t push me away and that spark threatens to catch again.
“Eight sessions, about six hours each.”
I whistle. “Must’ve hurt like a bitch.” I graze my fingers over the ink that just grazes the edge of his nipples.
“Wasn’t that bad,” he says, shifting his weight. He settles his hand on my hip, and I feel his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, where I stop my hand over his right pec, brushing my thumb and forefinger over the defined muscle there.
Racing.
I drop my hand, but he doesn’t remove his from where he touches me. He tugs just the slightest, and I let him pull me closer.
The light of the morning threatens to break through the last moments of darkness, the haze of dawn.
“What are you doing, Geo?” I ask, licking my lips.
“I don’t’ know,” he says honestly. “I just...”
His gaze searches mine, his amber eyes glistening with flecks of gold in the morning light.
“I spent a lot of years being told the things I felt weren’t right,” he says softly. “Kinda fucked me up, and not in a good way.”
His fingers squeeze my hip carefully, his palm warm against my skin.
“I don’t want to second-guess what feels right, you know?” he says. He looks up at me, and my heart wants to break.
Without thinking, I reach out, settling my hand against his neck as I capture his gaze.
Geo doesn’t move. He only looks up at me with a tenderness that is as vulnerable as it is hopeful, and my own heart wants to leap out of my fucking chest.
“And this feels... right?” I brush my fingers softly against the edges of his hair and he responds by pulling me against him.
“Yes,” he says, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his cheek into my palm. The motion makes me want to melt like the butter in the fucking skillet.
He lets out a heavy breath. “I like how it feels.” He swallows harshly. Flashing those dark eyes up at me, he breathes, “I like how it feels when you look at me like that.”
I brush my thumb over his lips from the sudden movement, and the smoothness beneath my fingertip threatens to bring back the memory of exactly what those lips feel like against my own.
And almost as if he justknows, he responds to my touch.
