Clipped Wings

13

TENLEY

I was starving. And not for food. Deprived of human connection and physical contact, I had been wasting away. Until Hayden kissed me. That changed everything. It was akin to being denied the buffet and given an appetizer as a consolation prize. It wasn’t even close to enough. I wanted more of him.

Every sociology course I’d taken as an undergraduate had brought me to the same conclusion: human beings craved emotional attachment. What I hadn’t realized was just how deep that need ran and how the right person could make all the difference.

In the past ten months every true connection I’d had was severed. It was like having pieces of my heart gouged out until it became Swiss cheese. In the first few months after the crash I hadn’t been able to handle any affection. Once I was released from the hospital into Trey’s care, it got infinitely worse. He was as warm and fuzzy as a dead porcupine.

Any physical contact after that had been limited to sympathy hugs and prodding from doctors. Since moving to Chicago it had dwindled to the occasional affectionate squeeze from Cassie. I could count on one hand how many times that had happened. Then there were the myriad of piercings I’d asked Lisa to put in my body. None of those had felt particularly pleasant, although the pain was nothing compared to what I’d already endured.

But the brief contact from Hayden in the form of fleeting touches and kisses on the cheek had awakened feelings that bulldozed over my attempt at isolation and solitude. After being in his chair for an hour with his hands on me, even with the facade of professional detachment, I was covetous for more. I didn’t realize how ravenous I’d been until after the tattoo session.

It made me reckless and impulsive.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it had been so long since I’d been touched in any capacity outside of consolation or medical intervention. Hayden’s touch both calmed and warmed me. I was tired of fighting my attraction to him. So I made a bad decision. I gave in to it.

The last time I was kissed was when Connor told me he needed to use the restroom on the plane. The one in first class was occupied, so he went to coach. It was just a peck on the cheek. I never saw him alive again.

Even if my last kiss from Connor had been memorable, I could say with absolute certainty that no kiss from him compared to the one I shared with Hayden. It was like setting off an atomic bomb of desire. It wiped out everything but him.

I thought I understood physical attraction, but in the wake of the unbound longing Hayden inspired in one kiss, I began to see how naïve I’d been. While I loved Connor and always would, he never held a fraction of the allure Hayden did. I didn’t know what to do with the overwhelming need for more of him.

Facing Hayden after tonight wasn’t going to be pleasant. Beyond the mortification of rejection, which I hoped I could handle, I was terrified he would reconsider being my tattooist. I needed it to be him. He was broken, too, maybe not as badly as me, but he understood loss. It was reflected in the art he wore on his body, in his reluctance to put the design on me without knowing why I wanted it. The tattoo was my absolution, and I trusted Hayden to make it happen. It was about more than body art, though; pretending otherwise was a lie. I wanted his touch and the closeness that came with it. I craved the connection I’d found with him, even if I shouldn’t.

I dealt with the situation by not dealing with it. I went through the motions, got up in the morning, attended school, worked through more revisions for my jerk of an advisor, taught classes and marked papers, went to work.

Hiding things from Cassie was a challenge. She was perceptive and nurturing. She made me want to tell her everything, but I couldn’t. She was too close to Hayden to be safe.

Above all else, I evaded Hayden. I was embarrassed by the way I’d thrown myself at him. Regardless of the rejection, I was also terrified I would do it again. He stopped by more than once the following evening, and each time I would disappear. At one point Cassie sent him down to the basement, where I was sorting new acquisitions. I hid inside an old wardrobe. I came upstairs a while later to find Cassie organizing trinkets on a shelf.

“Any particular reason you’re avoiding Hayden?” she asked.

Normally she wasn’t so up-front. She picked up one of the fragile figurines and dusted it off.

“I’m not avoiding him.”

“Really? He’s been in here three times today, he’s testy and he keeps asking for you, but you always seem to vanish the second he comes in the door. Twenty minutes ago I sent him downstairs to find you, and he told me you weren’t there.”

“It’s complicated.”

Cassie laughed and set the figurine back on the shelf. “Oh honey, everything about Hayden is complicated.”

I sighed. “I’m fully aware.”

“Is it about the tattoo?” she asked, her concern genuine.

“Yes and no. That’s part of it.”

When I didn’t offer any more information, Cassie sighed. “I’m not sure which one of you is worse. I don’t think I’ve met two more secretive people in my life. Look, whatever is going on between you is your business, but I’ll be honest—I’ve never seen Hayden so wrapped up in anything besides his art.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Cassie gave me a sad smile. “I’m not going to pretend I know your story, Tenley, but I do know Hayden carries around his past with him and it’s a burden he can’t unload. Be patient with him. Whatever the problem is, it’s clear he wants to set it right.”

“I just need some time to figure things out,” I said.

“Fair enough. Did you need me to relay that message?”

“If you think it would help.”

On Tuesday, Nate picked Cassie up early, so I was on my own for the last few hours of the night. Hayden didn’t stop in, giving me the reprieve I asked for, even though I wasn’t sure it was what I wanted. The hours until closing seemed endless. I watched the door, waiting for Hayden’s patience to give out. It didn’t. I could see Jamie and Chris through the window, working on clients. Hayden and Lisa were nowhere to be found.

After locking up, I went straight home and changed into comfy clothes so I wouldn’t give in to the urge to go over to Inked Armor. The kitten gave a groggy little mew when I tossed my shirt and bra on the bed and pulled on my favorite hoodie.

“Hi, baby girl.” I gave her a little scratch under the chin and she started to purr. “Did you have a good day? Are you hungry?” I made a quick trip to the kitchen for her milk. As an afterthought, I grabbed a few articles, some highlighters and a pen so I could work on my thesis while I hung out with her in my bedroom. It seemed to be her favorite place to sleep. When she had enough milk, she snuggled into me, her wet nose tickling my neck. I settled back against the pillows, stroking her soft fur as I read and scribbled notes in the margins.

I was on the last page when a knock at the door startled me. I tossed the article onto the nightstand, capped the pen and settled the kitten back on the bed where I’d found her, glad Sarah was home early. She always had an answer when it came to men, usually accompanied by a dose of cynicism. I turned the dead bolt but forgot about the chain latch above. In the narrow gap stood not Sarah but Hayden, holding a six-pack of beer and a bag.

I didn’t want to be happy to see him. “How did you get up here?”

He dangled a key and quickly jammed it in his pocket. “Helps when you know the landlady.” He ran a finger along the chain barring his entrance. “Can I come in?”

I unlocked the chain latch but stood in the doorway, keeping him in the hall. “What’s up?”

“You’re not going to let me in?”

“Why should I? So you can get me all hot and bothered, only to leave all over again?” I couldn’t believe I said that.

“I got you hot?” Hayden asked, looking rather pleased.

I tried to shut the door, but his arm shot through the gap.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just want to talk.”

“Last time you just wanted cupcakes.”

He latched onto the inside of the doorframe. “Please? Come on, Tenley, I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Fine. Whatever.” My anger masked my embarrassment as I recalled what Hayden’s not-so-good behavior felt like. I couldn’t avoid him forever. Not if I still wanted him as my artist. Better to deal with the situation on my turf than his. The art was secondary, though. I needed his proximity more than I needed the tattoo. Not that I would tell him. I opened the door and moved aside to let him in.

“Nice outfit.” His eyes traveled down and stopped below my knees. “Are those leg warmers?”

“Do you have a problem with them?” I asked, nervous now that the door no longer created a barrier of safety. I had no idea how to approach this.

“Not at all, but you probably wouldn’t need them if you were a little more covered up.”

I was wearing shorts. The leg warmers covered my calves. “Is my artless skin offensive?”

“Hardly. My life would be a lot easier if that was the case.”

“Why are you here? Other than to comment on my choice of sleepwear.”

“That’s what you wear to bed?”

“Why would what I wear to bed matter to you?”

He tapped his temple. “It helps with the . . . never mind. I brought some stuff for TK, and I thought maybe we could have a beer or something.”

“TK?”

“The Kitten.”

He walked around me, put the beer on the counter, and emptied the contents of the bag. There were treats, kitten milk, and a bunch of toys. Hayden sorted the toys and treats into neat piles. He was thoughtful, which frustrated me more.

I walked around the breakfast bar, putting the counter between us. I needed the distance. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He slid a beer across the counter toward me. When I reluctantly took the bottle, he twisted off the cap. I tipped it back, swallowed, and waited.

“You avoided me yesterday.”

He was right. I didn’t respond.

“And you didn’t come by the shop today like you were supposed to.”

“And you’re surprised because—”

“I don’t know why Lisa thought I could do this. I really suck at this shit,” he said, more to himself than to me. “Look, I should be sorry about what happened the last time I was here, but I’m not, and that’s a problem.”

That was not at all what I expected to hear. “I’m not quite following.”

He shifted, looking uncomfortable. “We have this rule at the shop, and it’s pretty much the only one I ever try to follow. I don’t sleep with clients.”

I couldn’t imagine Hayden sleeping with anyone. I could imagine him doing other things, though. Inside I was flipping out at his inference. The way Hayden was talking, it sounded like he wanted to take it a lot further than the kiss. He was standing in the exact same place he’d been in two nights ago. Except I was on the wrong side of the counter, which made the speculation impossible to confirm.

“Last time I checked, making out isn’t quite the same thing,” I said, maintaining a neutral expression.

“Sorry. Let me clarify. I don’t fuck around with clients.”

“What constitutes ‘fucking around’?”

Hayden’s lip twitched. “What happened when I was here last constitutes fucking around.”

“Right.” I took another sip. I was pushing him on purpose; because I was hurt, because I wanted more and he was telling me in no uncertain terms I couldn’t have him. My natural inclination was to find a way around it. What he offered was so much more than just ink on my skin and the solace of his touch. “So just to make sure I’m completely clear about this, kissing and groping are facets of fucking around.”

“Can you stop saying that?”

“Stop saying what?”

“Fucking around.”

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?” I asked.

“No.”

I swore I could hear his teeth grit together. Antagonizing him wasn’t helpful. I could see the issue in getting physically involved with a client, but I doubted Hayden made house calls to other clients or bought their pets toys and treats. He was usually so controlled that breaking some arbitrary rule over me seemed significant.

“Then what’s the problem?” I asked.

“Nothing. Never mind. Say fucking around as much as you want.”

“Would you like to explain the parameters of fucking around? Just so I know.”

His tongue ring appeared between his lips and slid back and forth. He did that a lot around me.

“Just like you said, kissing, groping, anything that would lead to you being naked and underneath me.”

I almost choked on my beer, but I recovered quickly, not wanting to give him the upper hand. “Got it. Because me naked under you would be a bad thing.”

“Very bad,” Hayden agreed. He didn’t launch himself over the counter, but it looked like he wanted to.

“And if I wasn’t your client?”

“But you are.”

“But if I wasn’t?”

Hayden stalked around the counter and stood over me. “I am your tattooist. No one else is putting that design on you.”

“Territorial much?”

His nostrils flared. “Yes.”

“Are you this possessive about all your work?”

“No, just yours.”

The admission pleased me. “What happens when you finish the tattoo?”

Hayden’s lips curled up into a treacherous smile. “The rule doesn’t apply anymore.”

“And what’s the time line on that look like?”

“Best-case scenario? Two months at the very least.”

Two months would feel like an eternity. I wondered if Hayden would be able to follow his own rule for two months. I wondered if I would. Especially with him standing over me, close enough to touch, looking at me the way he was.

While the tattoo would give me some of what I craved in the form of his company, it wouldn’t be enough. Not now that I had the memory of his mouth. I didn’t want to be without it for that long. It was about more than the physical connection, even though I was reluctant to acknowledge it.

That unfamiliar longing he incited welled up again, taking over, drowning out reason and logic. Hayden wanted me in the same way I wanted him. His previous actions and our current discussion proved that. In my previous life I might have backed down. But I’d spent enough time playing by rules I didn’t like. Hayden tapped into the part of me that wanted to push the boundaries as far as I could, repercussions be damned. “Just so you’re aware, I think your rule is stupid.”

“You wouldn’t if you knew why we made it in the first place. And don’t ask, because I’m not telling you.”

I had a feeling I might not want to know anyway. Hayden finished his beer and twisted the top off another. “You ready?”

“I’m good.” I held up my half-finished one.

He grabbed the rest of the six-pack and crossed over to the fridge. Opening the door, he froze. “You have no food.”

“I need to get groceries,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Tenley, if you don’t eat properly, your tattoo will take longer to heal and we’ll have to space the sessions further apart.”

“I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Or we could go now.”

“As you noticed, I’m not dressed for grocery shopping. Besides, it’s after ten. Nothing’s open.”

Hayden gave me an incredulous look. “We’re in Chicago—there are twenty-four-hour stores all over the place.”

“Oh.” In Arden Hills stores closed at normal times. I still had no intention of leaving my apartment tonight. Not now that Hayden was here, and especially not after our conversation.

“You could change, unless you want to look like you’re auditioning for Flashdance.”

“Aren’t you hilarious.” I gathered up some of the toys he bought. “I’d rather stay here and play with my kitty.”

I left him standing there and headed for my bedroom. “She’s in here,” I said and disappeared through the doorway.

The kitten was right where I left her, curled up on my pillow. I shoved the bra and shirt I forgot to put in the hamper under a pillow as Hayden leaned against the doorjamb and surveyed my room. He looked wary, like he didn’t trust my motives. He was smart. I didn’t trust them, either. The heightened awareness his presence created was difficult to ignore. The only other person who had been in my room was Sarah, and as beautiful as she was, I wasn’t interested in cozying up to her. I dropped the toys on the bed and the kitten lifted her head, blinking sleepily.

“Hi, cutie pie, Hayden brought you some presents.” I scratched between her ears and she rolled over, showing me her belly.

In her excitement, she fell off the pillow and tumbled into the pile of toys. For the next several minutes she pounced around on my comforter, chasing after little balls with bells in them and swatting at catnip mice. I tossed one at Hayden, who was still holding up the doorframe. It hit him in the chest and dropped to the floor. The kitten’s little head bobbed as she gauged the distance and jumped down, skidding across the hardwood. Hayden snatched her up when she got close enough and whispered something I couldn’t hear. He set her down gently and flicked the mouse at his feet into the hallway. She skittered away, mewing loudly.

“Why don’t you come back out here?” Hayden nodded in the direction of the living room.

Before I considered my actions, I slid off the bed and hooked my thumb in the waistband of my sweat shorts. “Did you want to see how my cupcake is healing, first?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead he looked over at the chair in the corner of my room, covered with scarves and other accessories, and then back at the bed.

“I could do that.” He sauntered over to my dresser, where he deposited his beer.

He gave me a predatory glare as he sat on the edge of the mattress and ran his palms over his thighs. I nudged his legs apart with my knee and stepped between them. His hands stilled as I pushed my shorts down over my hips; I cringed. I’d forgotten about my poor underwear choice; they were horrifically juvenile. Made of white cotton, they boasted a kitty paw print pattern and red piping at the seams. At least I wasn’t wearing the matching bra anymore.

“For fuck’s sake.” Hayden pushed my hands out of the way.

He took over, rolling down the waistband to fully expose the humiliating underwear, his tongue ring clicking furiously. He cleared his throat and hooked his finger under the elastic, drawing it down over the small gauze patch.

“This should have come off yesterday.”

“Sorry.” I started to peel away the tape, but he smacked my hand.

“Don’t touch. I get to do that.”

Fingers sliding back and forth, he slowly shimmied my underwear below the bandage. If he lowered them farther, he’d be looking at more than my tattoo. He peeled the gauze back and removed it carefully. Folding it in half, he placed it on the comforter and circled the design with his finger. I wanted more of his touch, the desire acute now that I couldn’t have it.

“How does it look?” I asked, head bowed. My hair fell forward and caressed his hand. I gathered it up so it wouldn’t impede his view.

“Fantastic.”

His hands were wrapped around my hips, thumbs sinfully close to the crest of my pubic bone. This was the kind of touch I wanted. I willed his fingers to drift lower and take away the ache, at least temporarily. “It’s healing well? Does that mean we can keep the appointment for next week?”

“Yeah.” He licked his bottom lip as he continued to inspect the tattoo.

For someone who felt obligated to abide by a rule, he wasn’t in a hurry to cover my new ink back up. In fact, he seemed inclined to do the opposite.

His hair was in his face again. I ran my fingers through it, pushing it back off his forehead. As terrifying as it was, I wanted to be closer to him. “About that rule . . .”

Hayden’s hands stilled. “What about it?”

“Can you explain it to me again, just so I understand?” I watched the strands of dark hair slip between my fingers, unable to look at him, lest I lost my nerve. When it returned to its same unruly state, I ran my fingers through it again.

“No sex with clients.”

“While you’re tattooing them?”

“Right.”

“What if you haven’t started yet?” We had a week before he began the back piece. The possibility that I could quell the ravenous hunger for him held too much appeal for me not to step over the line he wanted to draw.

“Are you giving me a loophole?” His hold tightened.

“Do you want one?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted him to admit it so I wasn’t alone in my need.

Too soon he would be completely off-limits; it made me desperate for more of what I knew he could give me. I didn’t want to be told I couldn’t have this person I wanted, not after having nothing for so long.

“It’s not a good idea, Tenley.”

“That’s not an answer, Hayden.” I traced the contour of his bottom lip.

He closed his eyes. I thought he was going to push me away, but then his shoulders sagged in defeat. He bowed forward, his forehead coming to rest on my lower abdomen. I could feel each humid exhalation with every measured breath he took, and my body warmed in anticipation. He shook his head back and forth against my stomach, a contradiction to the way his hands moved over my ribs and around my back, holding me to him. Stubble chafed my skin as he lifted his head, his chin coming to rest below my navel.

I touched his cheek. “It’s okay to want someone,” I said, as much to myself as to Hayden.

“Who do you want to convince?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer, though. Hayden lowered his head and pressed his lips to my skin. His hand traveled down my spine to my backside and squeezed. One second I was standing between his legs, the next I was laid out on my bed.

He didn’t waste any time. His nose skimmed just above my pubic bone and his lips parted. The warm, wet press of his tongue was a stark contrast to the hard heat of the steel ball piercing through it. I gasped when I felt his teeth.

Hayden dragged my shorts down my thighs and tossed them over the side of the bed. “These.” He snapped the elastic waist of my underwear. “How the hell am I supposed to keep myself in check when you wear these?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” I rasped.

“Bull-fucking-shit.” He hooked his pinkies in either side and removed them, slowly. “You lured me in here.”

“I’m sorry.” I almost meant it.

“You might be when I’m done with you.”

My panties ended up on the floor with my shorts, leaving me naked from the waist down. I started to close my legs, but Hayden’s hands moved down the insides of my thighs, pushing them wider apart. His mouth followed the same path, teeth nipping along the way, driving me to the brink as he took his time getting where I wanted him. I writhed beneath him, too lost in erotic sensation to be self-conscious. His grin was wicked when he looked up from between my legs, tongue splayed as he licked up the center. Strong hands slid under me. He held me against his mouth, and that tiny steel ball circled sensitive skin. When I shuddered, he chuckled darkly and sucked hard.

He slowed down when I was close to an orgasm, his fingers feather light, his tongue just shy of where it would be most effective. When the driving sensation waned, he started up again, taking me back to the edge, over and over. I groaned, desperate for release.

“You sound frustrated,” Hayden said, giving me a lazy lick.

I lifted my hips, a silent plea for him to finish me, one way or another. He rested his cheek on my inner thigh and his arms hooked around my legs, holding me in place. It was the sweetest agony and nothing I’d ever experienced before. The intimacy of it blanketed out everything but him.

“I’m sorry.” He pressed a kiss below the new tattoo, admiring his own handiwork. “I’m not sure what it is you want.”

“Please, Hayden.” I pushed his hair back from his face, playing nice.

“Please what?”

I made an impatient sound in the back of my throat and tried to close my legs again, but he wouldn’t let me. As seductively intense as he could be, he was being a tease. It was infuriating and exhilarating.

“Just tell me what you want from me, Tenley.”

I looked down at him, so placid and collected. How he maintained such composure when I was losing my mind was a wonder. He might be struggling as much as I was, but he was better at keeping a front. How naïve of me to believe I’d ever had the upper hand.

“Right now I want you to make me come,” I whispered.

“With what?” His thumb brushed over my clit.

I arched into the touch. “Your mouth.”

“And then what?”

“After that I want you inside me.”

“What part of me?” He dragged a knuckle down and circled my entrance before slipping a finger inside.

“Your cock.” It came out a nearly unintelligible moan.

It must have been what he wanted to hear, because his mouth was on me almost instantly. His fingers moved in time with his tongue, curling up and in, finally providing the release I so desperately wanted.

Lethal in his feral beauty, Hayden prowled up my body, dropping languorous kisses along the way. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, but Hayden stopped me, intent on removing it himself. He lifted it over my head and paused. There was no bra.

“God, you’re sexy.” All traces of menace were wiped out as he cupped my breasts and drew careful circles around my nipples. “And these . . .” He bent his head, his lips replacing his finger.

“Okay?” he asked.

I nodded mutely and he watched me, testing my response as his lips parted, enveloping the taut skin. The smooth ball in his tongue completed a slow circuit, clicking dully against the barbell. It was almost too much.

“Are you sorry now?” he asked, and applied the gentlest of suction.

I groaned at the pleasure-pain and shook my head. “No. Should I be?”

“That depends.” He kissed his way across the valley to devote the same attention to the other breast. I grasped his hair as he licked at my nipple and blew on it. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Definitely not.” It was questionable whether he would agree to anything like this again. I doubted he lost control often. I pushed aside the fear of what might happen in the aftermath and pulled his shirt over his head so I could see him.

Vibrant color gave way to solid black lines. My fingers drifted over the ink. The muscles in his chest tensed and bunched as he held himself over me, allowing me to touch the canvas of his body. I could see now the rest of the colorful design on his arm, the orange fish splashing up a stream heavy with blossoms, half wilted, half alive. I traced the black lines on his chest and finally understood the pattern. It was a phoenix, the thick bands of ink traveling across his body and down into the waistband of his jeans. I could have spent hours uncovering his art, looking for the meaning in the pieces he chose to cover his skin.

“You’re gorgeous.”

He shook his head and settled between my legs, his belt buckle a cold shock against my stomach. His chest came flush with mine. The solid weight of his body grounded me in the present and kept me from falling backward into memories I didn’t want anymore. He was all that existed in this moment.

He framed my face between his hands, his touch soft, his expression severe. “Just this one time. Just once. Then not again until the tattoo is done. It’s too complicated.”

I couldn’t see how his restrictions would make things less difficult, but I would take whatever he was offering. It was better than the alternative. “If that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” He circled his hips, his erection insistent against me. “What I want is for you to stop being so fucking reticent and tell my why you want that monster of a tattoo.”

Hayden was just as taciturn, but I didn’t think it would be a good time to point that out.

“What I want is to know why the fuck I can’t get you out of my head.” He sat back on his heels, unbuckled his belt, and popped the button on his jeans. “What I want—” He pulled them down over his hips; there were no boxers. “—is to figure out why I have no control when it comes to you.”

His erection sprang free. I swallowed hard. In my rather narrow field of experience, I had never seen anything quite so impressive. Fascinated, I reached out and ran a tentative finger from base to tip, circling the thick steel ball piercing the head. It jerked at the contact. I propped myself up on my elbow, taking him in my hand. Hayden grunted out an expletive.

“What’s it called?” I asked when I realized the barbell ran straight through the head, in one side and out the other.

“What?” Hayden’s hips shifted forward.

“The piercing, what’s it called?”

“Apadravya.”

I repeated it, testing out the word. “It must have hurt.” I circled the ball with my thumb.

“At the time, but it feels fucking amazing right now.” He fumbled with his discarded jeans, and his wallet came free as I continued to stroke him. Flipping it open, he lifted a trio of gold foil squares from inside. Using his teeth, he severed one from its brothers and tore it open. His hand covered mine, and he gently pried my fingers away. I didn’t offer to help, too enthralled with the way the latex stretched over the piercing. He rolled it swiftly down his length. Like he’d done it before. Many times.

Hayden leaned over me, his hips resting in the cradle of mine, hard against soft this time. “Last chance to back out, Tenley.”

I dragged a foot up the back of his leg, pressing my heel against his ass.

His mouth came down on mine. The steel rings bit into my skin as his tongue pushed past my lips, eagerly seeking out my own. He snaked a hand between us and I felt the thick head of his erection pass over my clit and go lower until he was easing inside. His forehead dropped against my shoulder and he turned his face into my neck. The barbell passed the threshold, first one side, then the other. It slid along sensitive places inside me. It didn’t matter that I’d already had an orgasm, or that he tried to ready me for him; I wasn’t prepared for the sheer girth. My body stretched to accommodate him, the sharp sting an indication I was filled beyond capacity. My knees clamped against his hips.

Hayden’s head snapped up. “Tenley?” Frantic fingers were in my hair. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and held on to the back of his neck, wanting to keep him close. “Just give me a second. You’re a lot to handle.”

He waited until I urged him on, his breathing controlled. I matched mine to his, relaxing into him when he pushed forward again, until our hips met. We stayed like that for an interminable moment. I focused on the smell of his skin and the feel of him inside me, wanting this connection to wipe out everything that came before it. He took away the pain, consuming it and me. He kissed me again, slow and soft this time, circling his hips but staying deep. The sensation was indescribable, overwhelming but not quite enough. I didn’t want it to end.

Hayden let out a rough curse, hips pulling back and surging forward. “I’m not . . . I can’t . . . You feel too fucking good.”

When I shifted under him, he made a pained sound and his muscles trembled.

“Just wait,” he said.

It verged on a plea. I ran a hand down his back and he shuddered.

“Fuck. Never mind. It’s too late.” His forearms slid under my back and his fingers curled around my shoulders, holding me tight to him. His shallow thrusts grew more and more erratic. His mouth was at my neck, lips parting against my skin, teeth sinking in as he moved inside me. Hayden’s body locked down as he groaned low in his throat.

“I didn’t expect that,” he said apologetically, kissing the spot where his teeth had just been.

He pushed up on his arms and I tightened my grip, fingernails digging into his skin. “Not yet, please.”

He pulled back, looking at me with something halfway between amusement and sheepishness. His palm moved over the sheets until something crinkled. Holding himself up on one arm, he separated the twin squares and handed me one.

“Didn’t you just—”

“That doesn’t mean I’m done.”

The sudden emptiness as he pulled out was startlingly unpleasant. Hayden removed the spent condom and tossed it in the trash. I ripped open the new one and passed it to him, too desperate to have him back inside me to do it myself. It took him two tries to roll it on.

He ran a hand gently over my hip and down my thigh, hooking his arm under my left knee. Repositioning himself, he eased back inside. We both groaned at the sensation as he drew my leg up to change the angle.

I started to comment, but he cut me off with his mouth. When I was sufficiently distracted, he began to move again, slow at first and gaining momentum. He sat back on his knees, eyes fixed where we were joined.

“You have no idea—”

He ran his thumb along the exposed base of his shaft, slick skin glistening, and circled my clit in time with his thrusts. And then he was lifting me up, bringing us chest to chest once more, this time with me in his lap. He stayed close, grinding me over him.

I rested my forearms on his shoulders, our lips meeting on every downward stroke. I’d expected him to be untamed, but this was something else, more than I knew what to do with. I looked down, over the expanse of muscle and ink, to watch him enter and leave me. I could feel it then—yet another orgasm slithering its way up my spine.

“Is this what you want?” Hayden asked, his voice like raw silk.

I whimpered, the tendrils of heat sparking to flame.

“What was that?” He cupped my chin gently in his palm, forcing my eyes up to his, all fire and satisfaction.

I tried to nod, but he held me firmly.

“Words, Tenley. Tell me.”

“Yes,” I groaned.

“Yes what?”

“I want you,” I whispered, so close to another release it almost hurt to stave it off. The sensations Hayden invoked were magnified to the point of being alien. Every experience before him paled in comparison. I wanted to feel like this forever.

His smile was lascivious as he lifted me up and settled me over him again, the pace excruciatingly slow but effective.

“Are you going to come again?”

“Yes.” My body shook with the effort to postpone the impending release.

“Hard?” His lips pressed lightly against mine, a gentle counterpart to the inferno rising inside.

And then it was there, rushing through me like a forest fire, incinerating me to ash. My eyes fluttered shut and Hayden growled out a curse. “Look at me.”

I pried my lids open and tried to focus on him. His arm closed around me, and the muscles in his neck stood out in stark relief. In that moment our connection surpassed anything I’d ever known. He wasn’t looking at me, but through me, inside, straight into my soul. And I felt like I was just as much inside him as he was inside me, intertwined and inextricable. I cried out, every nerve ending hypersensitive as the orgasm continued to pulse through me. When it finally abated, Hayden’s hold loosened, his palm moving over my back in lulling circles. His head dropped to my shoulder and I committed the moment to memory: the way he smelled, the feel of his skin, the taste. There was such discord between the sweet and gentle man whispering tender things in my ear and the implacable one who forced me to look at him when I came. I worried about the fallout, about my remorse over pushing him and his potential anger at losing control.

“You all right?” he asked, making no move to break the physical connection.

I nodded into his neck, my lips on his shoulder. “That was intense.”

“Mmm.”

We stayed like that, wrapped in each other for a few more minutes. When heat gave way to cool, I braced myself on his shoulder and lifted off. I hissed at the movement, sharp pain shooting from the hip that had been injured in the crash.

“Did I hurt you?” His hands skimmed over my sides, eyes following the same path, looking for some sign of trauma. He traced the scar that ran from hip to thigh. “How didn’t I notice this before?”

“It’s nothing. I was in an accident a while ago,” I said evasively, giving what I could without revealing too much.

I moved away from him, the ache in my hip echoing in my chest from the lack of connection. The niggling worry spread like an ink spot, bleeding out, staining my insides. I retrieved my shirt from the floor and drew it over my head, suddenly self-conscious. I was about to put my underwear back on when I noticed a faint pink streak on the inside of my thigh. I wasn’t surprised; it had been a long time since I’d been with anyone, and Hayden wasn’t average in any way.

“I’ll be right back.” I snatched my clothes from the floor and locked myself in the bathroom.

I turned on the fan and ran the water, afraid I was going to crack under the pressure of my own fears and emotions. I had made a grave mistake. Now that I knew what it was like to be with him, how he erased everything, it would be impossible not to want more. But I knew that the moment he walked out my door, his armor would be back up, reinforced and fashioned out of titanium, nothing like the shattered glass cage I tried to hide inside.

I wet a washcloth and wiped away the residual evidence. Unsure of what would be waiting for me on the other side of the door, I dressed hastily. When I came out, he was pulling his shirt over his head.

“That was a really fucking bad idea,” he bit out.

I had stupidly hoped the afterglow would keep me in a blissfully warm state until tomorrow. His reaction wasn’t unexpected, but the shock of truth was like a slap in the face. “I know.”

“I’m still putting that tattoo on you.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“But we can’t do that again. Not until it’s done.”

“You’ve said that already.” I clasped my hands together, my focus on my bare feet.

“I’m just making sure we’re clear on that point.”

He was right in front of me, palms sliding along my neck, tilting my head back. He kissed me. It wasn’t soft. It was full of repressed anger and desperation. I understood completely where he was coming from. I felt it down to my bones.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“You probably shouldn’t.” I couldn’t look at him, afraid I would see the same hope reflected in his eyes that I heard in his voice. Hope was a dangerous emotion; it gave false confidence and made a person do unconscionable things.

“But do you want me to?”

“It will complicate things more.” I felt so vulnerable, exposed. I knew if he stayed, I would risk telling him my secrets, and he would find out what a coward I was. I wasn’t ready for him to know the truth. I was terrified it would chase him away.

Hayden sighed. He pulled a card out of his back pocket and flipped it over, handing it to me. A number was scribbled on the back. “That’s my cell. If you change your mind, I’m right across the street. I can be back here in two minutes.”

I held on to the card, committing the number to memory.

“You’ll come by the shop tomorrow?” He ran his fingers through my hair, like he couldn’t stop touching me.

“Okay.”

He dropped his hand and stepped away. The inches felt like miles. I walked him to the door. Hayden kissed me on the cheek and left.

My fingers were still curled around the doorknob. I rested my forehead against the jamb, breathing through the sudden spike of anxiety at Hayden’s departure. He would have stayed if I’d asked him to, but I was petrified of what he made me feel. After having no one for so long, the possibility of filling the emptiness was almost unimaginable.

I listened to the sound of his heavy boots as he retreated down the hall, putting more distance between us. My remorse rose like mist, ready to coalesce and drag me back into the past. The mistakes were my own doing; I was responsible for this impasse. I was the one who kept pulling Hayden closer only to push him away again. I’d told him to go, even though I hadn’t wanted him to. I’d done it last time, too.

I heard the floor creak outside my door. I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of his soles hitting the stairs, but there was nothing, no movement, just the thud of my heart in my ears. It looked like I wasn’t the only one who was conflicted. I didn’t want to lose this tenuous thing I’d found with him. If I let him leave, that might very well happen. I couldn’t allow it.