Page 114 of Full Tilt
Reaching up, I run my fingers through his soft bedhead.
“Is it only me, Jenna?”
I throw him a puzzled look; I haven’t slept with anyone else in a while, and he knows this.
He presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. He looks pained … or maybe more perplexed. He needs an answer from me about us. He wants to make us official, and I need to start communicating where my head is at.
Truthfully, I wouldn’t be here, in his bed, begging him to fuck me, if I wasn’t all the way involved with Tommy or if I didn’t see a future with him. I might have a history of casual sex with guys, but I make a hard pass if I think they have potential feelings and I’m about to hurt someone.
I look down my body to where we’re connected and then back up at Tommy. The more I see of this man, the more I’mconvinced of the boyfriend I know he can be. He’s cleaned up his act on and off the ice. He cooks for me and treats me like a fucking queen. He’s so perfect. My girls say it, and my heart agrees. I just need to convince my brain that it’s okay to take a risk on the boy I, once upon a time, couldn’t even look at. The boy who hurt my brother.
Twisting a piece of his hair around my finger, I wait for him to lift his head and look at me. I want him to see the sincerity in what I’m saying. “You know I only want you.”
Tommy squeezes his eyes shut. “Are you talking about me being the only guy who gets to sleep with you or the only guy who gets to call you his? Because there’s a huge difference between the two, Jen. And while I want both, it’s the latter I’m burning to be.”
“Why do we have to put a label on us?” I ask.
I know he’s hurting and likely frustrated, but he doesn’t let it affect the way he speaks or treats me. I’m not trying to test him or play games. And I don’t miss the patience he repeatedly shows me. He knows he has a long way to go to earn my trust. And I wasn’t full of bullshit when I left that voicemail, telling him he would never hear my voice again.
“I just want to be certain that when we fully commit to each other, the past won’t come back to bite us. We might’ve met each other over a year ago, but I feel like we only started getting to know each other more recently. I’m learning all about you, Tommy.”
He slides in a little deeper, satisfied with my response. “If heaven and hell came together and made a living being, then they would be exactly like you.”
“So you keep reminding me.” I chuckle and then gasp when he pushes all the way inside.
Tommy reaches above my head and grabs hold of his headboard, rolling his hips into me slowly.
“Since I’m learning all about you, specifically my favorite body part of yours …” I begin.
Tommy grins down at me, teasing my nipple piercing with his other hand. “Go on …”
Like the needy bitch I am, I spread my thighs even wider for him.
“The script tattooed around your cock—whenever I see it, it’s usually buried deep inside me within seconds, so I never get a chance to read what it says.”
Tommy releases the headboard, bringing his hand to the side of my face as he grinds into me again. “What it says is irrelevant because it’s no longer my truth.”
I immediately reply, pressing a hand to the center of his chest. “Everythingabout you—past, present, and future—is relevant to me. Don’t hide from me, Tommy.”
The second I finish my sentence, Tommy has me in his arms, carrying me over to a chair which is set in the corner of his room. He sits down first and then lowers me onto his dick. We’re facing each other and he’s deep inside me, burying his face between my breasts.
This position is a favorite of mine, and he knows it. Briefly, I wonder if this is a distraction tactic on his behalf, but he proves me wrong when he starts talking again.
“It’s written in Italian. I’ve always had this fascination with Italy. The food, drink, the people.” He smiles. “The fact that their country is shaped like a kicking boot.”
“You see”—I glide my palm across his smooth pecs—“I’m learning all about you.”
“But what it says isn’t something I believe anymore, Jenna. Some of the tattoos I have on my body never meant anything other than I liked how they looked. Others I put there to remind me never to trust a single person.” He kisses my shoulder. “And never to trust love.”
“Is that what the tattoo says?” I ask. “Never trust love?”
Tommy hooks his finger under my chin, asking me to look at him. “Yes. But like I told you, I don’t believe in it anymore. I was nineteen when I got that done, and I never could’ve predicted the turn my life would take a few years later.”
I shake my head. Confused. “Right now, you might as well be speaking in Italian.”
Tommy presses his mouth against mine, passion flowing from him and flooding my insides. “It’s hard to doubt love when you feel the way I do for you. All-encompassing, life-changing.” He sighs against my lips. “So much fucking love.”
I’m sitting in his lap, waiting for my brain to spin out and scream at me to run. To declare that this is too much and too dangerous and this whole thing is going to end in the biggest car crash.
