“Holden—” She digs her fingers into my shirt. Pulls me into a slow, deep kiss.
All her need pours into me.
All my need pours into her.
Fuck, it’s overwhelming how much I need her, how much I love her, how much I want her.
She pulls back with a sigh. “I love you too.”
“I love you so fucking much, baby.” I force my gaze to the trace paper. “Now, sit down. I need to do this. So I can fuck you again after.”
She bites her lip.
“If you’re sure. If not, I’ll be devastated,” I tease.
“Hey—”
A laugh falls from my lips. “You know I’m desperate to leave a permanent mark on you.”
“You already have.”
I melt. “Fuck… no more romantic shit. Or I’m going to take you again.”
“Is that supposed to discourage me?”
“Okay. No more romantic shit. Or I’m going to drive you home. And tell your dad you said you’re thinking about removing your IUD.”
“Oh God no.” Her nose scrunches in distaste. “He’ll spend an hour talking about birth control options. Then he’ll threaten to call Mom and…” Her eyes meet mine. “I’ll be good.”
“Well, don’t say things you don’t mean.” I wink.
She makes a show of holding up her hands. Then pressing them to her thighs.
I help her into the chair.
She looks up at me with all the trust in the world.
I still can’t believe that this beautiful, intelligent, strong woman trusts me with her heart, her body, her soul.
I can’t believe how fucking cheesy I am now.
And how little I care.
Daisy fidgets as I clean her up, prep the stencil, grab a fresh pad of ink.
She stares at the tattoo gun like it’s going to attack her.
I guess it is.
“Deep breath, baby,” I say.
She nods got it. Sucks a breath through her teeth. Pushes out a shallow exhale.
Her next inhale is a little longer.
The exhale is a little smoother.
I wait until she has it. Then I turn on my gun.
“On three, okay?” I ask.
“Are you going to do that thing you always do?”
“What thing?” I play dumb.
“Where you say you’ll count to three and—”
“Just count.”
“One—”
I bring the needle to her skin.
She yelps. “Fuck.” Her eyes go to her forearm. She stares as the ink marks her skin.
luctor et emerge
It fits her perfectly.
I know her so much better than I did last year. No matter how busy we were, we saw each other at least once a month.
Never more than twice.
I didn’t want to tie her to her past, to home, to her impulses to stay in, protect herself from risk.
I didn’t want to clip her wings.
Thank fuck I didn’t.
In the last year, she’s soared. She’s still Daisy, but she has friends at school. She writes all the time. Edits the literary magazine.
She even took an art class.
Went into the city for tea a million times.
I miss her so much when she’s gone. But I’m glad she gets the chance to spread her wings.
I’m so lucky that she shares that with me.
“Can you…” She forces a breath. “Tell me something.”
“I love your tits.”
She laughs. “Something… well, actually, that’s pretty distracting.”
“I love the taste of your cunt.”
“Oh my God.”
“I think about it when you’re at school.”
“You do not.”
“I do. When I fuck myself. I think about your thighs against my cheeks. And the way your head falls back when you come.” Shit, now I’m the one getting distracted.
Almost there.
I finish the second word.
Move to the third.
It’s shorter than the first.
Just barely.
“I fuck myself to you almost every day,” I say.
“You do not.”
“You want me to prove it?”
“Depends…” She struggles through the words. “What does that entail?”
“Videos. Unless you prefer something else. A photo of the… end results.”
“The—oh.” Her laugh is pained. “Won’t that be a lot of, uh, bandwidth.”
“We can make it… what’s that thing your friends use to send messages that disappear?”
“No one uses that anymore.”
“I’m behind the times?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes go to the ceiling. “I, uh…” The pain is getting to be too much.
I need to keep her mind on sex. “Unless you’ll get bored of them.”
“Oh?”
“The videos. Of me fucking myself.”
“Oh. No way.”
“Really? Every day? Twice a day?”
“Would you get bored of videos of me?”
“You have videos?”
“Not yet.” She pushes a breath through her teeth. “I’ve thought about it.”
“Baby, don’t do this to me.”
“What?”
“Tease me like that.”
“Maybe for your birthday.” She tries to make her voice flirty, but it only gets halfway there.
“Almost done.”
She nods thank God. “It’s not as bad as I thought. I can see why—fuck.”
One letter to go.
“Does it get worse?”
“Why? You want to go for two right away?”
“Maybe.” Her laugh is soft. “I still need danger is sweet.”
“Next time.”
“Next time.” She sighs as I pull the gun away.
“Really?”