“W-was I supposed to leave it on?” I stumbled over my response, taken off-guard. I’d expected immediate confrontation, not this.

“Did you do it by yourself?”

“Sarah helped me.”

“That’s my job.” His lip twitched.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t let it happen again.” I felt like we weren’t talking about the tattoo anymore.

“About last night—” I started.

“I get why it was too hard to tell me. I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” I shouldn’t continue to keep things from him. And that was it, the horrible truth under it all. I couldn’t tell him the most significant part of my loss. Because in owning it, I would be forced to look at what I was doing with Hayden, and why he felt so much more right than Connor ever had.

“About when the accident happened or who was on the plane with you?” He was close, but he made no move to touch me again.

“Both.”

“No. You shouldn’t have. But it doesn’t change whether or not I’ll finish the tattoo if that’s what you’re worried about.” There was hurt lurking beneath his fierce front. As if he believed the tattoo was all that mattered to me. If only it had been that simple.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” I ached to touch him, ached just as much for his touch.

“What is it then?” Like he sensed my need, his knuckle brushed down my cheek and he lifted my chin.

I shook my head, unable to express my fears.

“Tenley, talk to me.”

“That woman at the shop—”

“Isn’t important.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you were the only one. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

Hayden demanded, he cursed and he seduced, but he didn’t plead. I sensed the weight of his fear in his tenderness. He was as afraid as I was to answer questions. As much as I wanted him to be right about what did and didn’t matter, I knew differently. My past haunted my present and shaped my future. But for now, I would let it go because whatever his demons were, I didn’t need them to haunt us both. Not yet.

I ran a hand up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. In some ways, Hayden was just as fragile as me. “In case you were wondering, you’re the only one I want.”

A slow grin formed, cocky with a hint of relief. “You look tired. Did you sleep okay last night?”

“Not really.”

“Me neither. My bed felt empty.”

He braced a hand on the counter behind me and dropped a lingering kiss on my lips. When he straightened, he snuck a finger under the strap around my neck, following it down to where it met the apron bodice. “I like this.” It was blue with pink piping, covered in a cupcake print. Of course he liked it.

“What a surprise.”

“Can you turn around for me?”

“Why?”

“I want to check my art.”

“Oh.” I turned away from the mischievous glint in his eye hoping he couldn’t see my disappointment.

“What did you think I was going to do?” he asked. His hands settled on my hips and moved lower, covering the scar on the outside of my thigh.

“I don’t know.” Get me naked and take me from behind. We hadn’t done it that way yet.

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to say?”

When I stayed silent, he chuckled. “Please tell me you would never leave your apartment in these.” His finger glided along the hem of my shorts, grazing the curve of my backside.

“They cover all the important parts.”

“Barely.”

The ache between my thighs flared. “Don’t tease,” I whispered.

“Sorry.” He withdrew just as he reached the place where his fingers would have been most welcome.

The strangest emotion welled inside me; beyond desire and fear, quiet rage filtered through. I didn’t know what the impetus for it was. I only knew that if Hayden touched me the way I needed him to, it would go away.

“This looks good so far. Does it hurt much?” he asked as he traced the border of the design.

“I took something for it this morning,” I said. Even with the painkiller it hurt a lot, more around the scarred areas.

“It needs to be washed. I should have done it last night. I can take care of it now,” he said softly.

When I turned to face him, he looked repentant. I didn’t know what for, but if he needed forgiveness, there were other ways he could achieve it. “I have something else I would rather you take care of first.”

His throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. “Such as?”

I palmed the back of his neck. He resisted, conflict heavy in the slant of his brow.

“Please?” All my uncertainties funneled into the singular desire for him.

He ducked his head, lips light on mine, still holding back. “You taste sweet.”

He sucked on my bottom lip and cupped my cheek in his palm, his touch and his kiss gentle. I leaned into him, feeling the thick ridge of his erection against my stomach. He might not want to give in, but his body had other ideas. What I was about to do would make him crack.

“I made cupcakes.” I reached blindly to the side and felt for the edge of the mixing bowl. “And icing. Want a taste?”

I swiped at the rim of the bowl, gathering icing on my index finger before holding it up in front of him. His chest rose and fell, control slipping as he glared at me with something akin to helplessness. Resistance shattered, Hayden latched onto my wrist. My finger disappeared between his lips up to the second knuckle. I felt the press of teeth and the sweep of his tongue, followed by the hard metal of his tongue ring.

He released me with a loud, wet pop. “It’s fucking amazing.”

“You like it?” I asked, feeling an odd sense of pride.

“ ‘Like’ would be an understatement.”

Hayden reached behind me, dipping into the mixing bowl. He pressed on my bottom lip, watching with fascinated desire as his thumb slipped inside my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the soft pad and the smooth bed of nail. When I cleaned off the icing, I gave his thumb a hard suck, followed by a soft bite.

“Yummy.”

With an angry noise, he grabbed the back of my thighs and dropped me on the counter. His tongue invaded my mouth, the kiss aggressive even as his hand moved lightly down the outside of my thigh. “You must know what you’re doing to me,” he said, his tone full of accusation.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. It was a terrible lie. I wanted him to come apart, to match me in my unquenchable need.

He snorted in disbelief and bit my lip, sending little jolts of pain laced with erotic pleasure through me.

Running my hands through his hair, I pulled him close and wrapped my legs around his waist. I didn’t know what I thought was going to happen. He wouldn’t let it go very far, no matter how hard I pushed; my back was too tender. But I needed him in a way that didn’t make sense. It terrified me. I snaked a hand between our bodies to palm his erection anyway.

Hayden groaned, his fingers circling my wrist. “I can’t let you do that.”

It reminded me of the first time he kissed me. We’d been in this exact same position, but everything had changed since then. “Please don’t shut me down,” I begged.

He pulled away, his hands resting on my parted knees. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the humiliation. His palms moved higher until his thumbs swept along the juncture of my thighs and then under the hem of my shorts.

“I can make you feel good.” He pushed my legs wider apart. His fingers slid under the fabric and his knuckle brushed my clit. “Is that what you need me to do?”

I whimpered.

He stilled. “Is it?”

“Yes.” I held my breath, almost expecting him to withdraw with my admission. Hayden exhibited such staunch convictions that I never anticipated him actually giving in. I was sure there would be repercussions.

He kissed me again. It wasn’t as hard this time, but it was equally possessive. “Tell me you need this. Tell me you need me.”

“I need you.” We were united in our craving for each other. His desire was just as overwhelming as mine.

He made slow passes, barely grazing the sensitive skin as he watched his hand move under the cotton. He went lower, two fingers pushing inside, curling up and in, in a slow, even rhythm. His free hand wrapped around my ponytail and he angled my head to the side so he could kiss me and still see what he was doing.

I put my hand over his, wanting him to go deeper, harder. With every twist of his fingers he drove me closer to the edge. I arched into his touch and he palmed the back of my neck, keeping me close. I strained against him, my legs trembling, heat building and rising.

While it wasn’t the same as having him inside me, it was enough. It wasn’t just the physical gratification I wanted; it was the intimacy. I didn’t know how else to have the closeness I so desperately longed for. I clung to his shoulders as sensation expanded to consume me. Clenching around his fingers, I moaned into his mouth.

“I love watching you come,” he whispered, his kiss soft once again.

I mumbled incoherently and sagged against him, working to regain control of my limbs. I rested my head on his shoulder, wanting to maintain the connection for as long as possible. Even after the orgasm I still didn’t feel sated. I needed more from him. The tattoo, while cathartic, as Hayden said it would be, also tore open barely healed wounds. I was looking for a way to soothe the endless ache in my chest. Up until now Hayden had filled the empty part of me, but in the wake of the outline, new holes had developed.

“Did I make it better?” Hayden asked quietly.

I nuzzled into his neck and nodded, wishing we could stay like this forever.