Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Alex

I was silent for most of the car ride. My expression remained impassive, but my hand gripped tight to the handle of the knife in my pocket. Luckily Garrison seemed to sense the tension and watched the view beyond the window without a word.

Closing my eyes, I counted my breaths.

One, two, three.

Inhale.

One, two, three.

Exhale.

This lasted for most of the car ride. When we turned onto the street of our destination, I flexed his hand against the pins-and-needles feeling running under my skin. I'd been gripping the knife handle so hard that my fingers had gone numb, and my knuckles were sore from grinding together.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a building made of tan stone. Time and weather had turned the copper adornments into an appealing shade of green. Most of the building's body sat as a long low rectangle, but a tall section in the middle with a domed ceiling gave it some height.

As I stepped out of the car, I kept an eye on Garrison. I almost never brought anyone home with me, but when I did there were always interesting reactions.

Garrison did not disappoint.

"A police station?" The man's face barely moved, but that only made the slight twitches in his expression even more telling. It was a fascinating dance of subtlety.

Too bad I couldn't enjoy the show properly. I ignored the security guards standing to either side of the front doors as I stormed past and spoke to Garrison over my shoulder.

"Not anymore. The station shut down decades ago and the building was abandoned. Three years ago, I bought it and turned it into apartments. Such beautiful antique architecture shouldn't be left to rot."

Inside the building's front lobby of white marble and black carpet, I paused to look back at the security guards by the door. One of them was speaking into their phone.

Sharpening my teeth on all the curse words I wanted to say, I grumbled and turned away from the doors before I made a scene.

The building's security staff had originally worked for my mother. She claimed they were a gift to celebrate construction finally coming to an end, but I knew the truth. They were not only meant to keep me safe, but also report my every move.

Sometimes it seemed like my mother knew the details of my life better than I did.

Traveling up a private elevator that required a key, I finally stepped into the closest thing I had to a home.

I'd saved the best part of the building for myself, turning the space inside the dome into my personal sanctuary. Terracotta brick lined the walls, and black iron support beams had been left exposed. Two stories fit inside the dome. Extra walls had been erected on the first floor to create traditionally sized rooms that housed the kitchen, sitting room, office, and extra bedroom.

No member of my family had ever been allowed to set foot in this apartment, and I swept the place regularly for hidden devices. I wasn't naive enough to think this would stop my family from knowing what went on inside my home, but it at least gave me the illusion of privacy.

I made a direct line for the kitchen, pulled a random bottle out of the wine fridge, and poured myself a drink. Throwing my head back, I downed half the glass in one go, drowning myself in the fragrance of black cherries.

Mellow acid lingered on my tongue as I looked down into the glass. My own distorted reflection stared back at me.

"Fuck."

I flung the glass across the room, where it smashed against the wall. "That smug, disgusting… Fuck."

Red wine dripped down the terracotta walls, catching and pooling in the brick's rough texture. Garrison watched the wine's slow descent until it reached the floor.

"Do you have a broom?"

I pointed toward the correct closet, and Garrison retrieved an armload of cleaning supplies.

The man first removed his suit jacket, which he folded and left on a chair, then started to calmly sweep up the broken glass.

"This is because of your uncle, I assume."

Running a shaking hand through my hair, I recorked the wine and stored it away before I did something regrettable. Like throwing the entire bottle.

"Yeah. I hate him. Every time I see his face, I want to wring his damn neck."

I would never have let my family see such a display of emotion. But this was my home. It was safe to express myself here. I'd developed a habit of retreating behind these familiar walls whenever negative emotions built up under my skin and I needed to let them run free without fear of judgment.

It wasn't until the wine glass had already left my hand that I remembered Garrison could see me as well, but it was too late to stuff the anger back inside its cage.

Once the glass was dealt with, Garrison turned a wet rag on the wall to wipe away the wine.

"Is this how you usually deal with anger, or is your uncle a special case? I just want to know how often I'll need to duck flying glassware."

With a hollow sound of bone against wood, I leaned back and let my head knock against the kitchen cupboard.

"No. When I'm agitated I usually go to a club to blow off steam. But, I can't do that right now."

Still scrubbing at the wine stain, Garrison nodded as he and I spoke at the same time.

"It's not safe."

"It's two pm."

We both looked at each other, blinking through a moment of confusion.

The wine-stained rag made a wet splash when Garrison dropped it into a bucket of water. The fabric of his new shirt strained when he crossed his arms, almost distracting me from what the man said next.

"A club? You plan on going out tonight?"

I shrugged and wished I hadn't put the wine bottle away. It would have given me something to do with my hands as I faced Garrison's obvious disdain. "You saw my uncle. He's infuriating. I need to blow off some steam, and going out to a club is a good way to do that."

It didn't seem possible, but Garrison somehow seemed to draw himself together and appear a little bigger. "The last time you were at a club someone almost killed you."

Since the shirt wasn't tailored, it struggled to contain the width of Garrison's shoulders. The top button seemed ready to pop open at any moment.

My restless fingers found an outlet. Stepping into Garrison's personal space, I toyed with the buttons running down the man's shirt. They wouldn't need much coaxing to fall open, practically begging to reveal the impressive chest underneath.

"If you want to keep me on house arrest, then you're responsible for entertaining me. I'm a nightmare when I'm bored."

Garrison grabbed my hand before I could undo the button.

"It seems like you're always a nightmare."

The heel of Garrison's shoe knocked against the bucket when I pushed him back, sloshing red-tinted water over the floor.

"Because I'm usually bored. That's why I like you. You're not boring."

Although Garrison was much broader than me, we had only a few inches of difference in height. So, when I hooked a hand around the back of Garrison's neck, I didn't have to pull the other man down very far for our lips to meet.

Just as I suspected, Garrison's muscular frame was a delight to press up against. Like the unyielding trunk of a tree that I couldn't wait to climb.

Yet, the other man didn't respond. Garrison's lips remained unmoving, and he barely seemed to breathe.

I pulled away and looked up into a set of confused eyes. "What? You're not... did I misread something here?"

Only a few inches away, Garrison's hands hovered in the air like he wasn't sure what to do with them. "You were being serious. I thought you were just having fun flirting."

"I was having fun flirting, and I'd like to have fun doing other things. What's the problem? Do you not want to?"

"I'm not…" Garrison trailed off and knelt to fix the bucket he'd knocked over. When he finally spoke, his voice was directed at the floor. "I'm a lot older than you."

It was actually kind of cute, seeing such a strong man suddenly look nervous. In all of my fantasies, I'd imagined Garrison as a dominant force in bed, but I could work with this newfound shyness as well.

I knelt down so I was eye level with Garrison and took the bucket from his hands, placing it out of the way. "A few years between us doesn't matter. I know your age, and I've decided that I want you. That's my decision. You don't get to make it for me. The only decisions you get to make are your own." Grabbing Garrison's wrists, I coaxed the other man to his feet. "So, now that you know where I stand, what do you want?"

Lines appeared on either side of Garrison's mouth as his expression pinched. "I'm not sure how much I can promise you."

"Not looking for promises. Just a good fuck."

When Garrison was deep in thought he stopped blinking, like he was afraid to miss a single detail as he weighed his options. This gave me an unimpeded view of the man's eyes. They looked vacant, like a house without lights, as Garrison's thoughts turned inward. His eyes weren't truly black, but rather a very dark brown. From such a short distance, I could see flecks of gold scattered around the edges. I wondered how many people had seen Garrison from this intimate perspective. The man didn't seem like the type of let others close very easily.

Had previous lovers stared into the man's eyes and admired the secret treasure that I had found, or had they seen only a dark void?

After a few moments, light returned to Garrison's eyes, making the flecks of gold sparkle.

"Sleeping with my new employer is probably a bad idea." The smallest of smiles graced his lips. "But I've spent my whole life following good ideas, and still got burned in the end. So, maybe a bad idea is what I need."

At the mention of burns, my thoughts turned toward the scars covering Garrison's back. I really wanted to ask about the wounds that caused those marks but refrained. I hadn't known Garrison long, but I could already tell that such an invasive question would only push the man away from me.

Instead, I fisted both hands in the front of Garrison's shirt, popping a few of the already strained buttons. "Lucky for you, I'm a master of bad ideas."

I crashed our mouths together again. This time the heat was matched from both sides. Garrison's hands settled on my waist like a vice grip of hot iron. Wrapping my arms around the other man's neck, I pulled us closer together until not a molecule of air could have fit between our bodies.

Our kiss deepened, lips parting and tongues sliding against each other. I moaned when my growing arousal rubbed against Garrison's hip. Fire blossomed in my veins. My head spun even with my eyes closed.

We both pulled away at the same time, panting for air. Before Garrison could fully escape, I nipped the man's bottom lip.

"Come on. This'll be more comfortable upstairs."

I didn't wait for an answer. I didn't need one. The look in Garrison's eyes was too eager to mean anything but "yes".

With me leading the way, the two of us headed to the apartment's second floor. The master bedroom took up the entire space. Practically its own little studio apartment, the curved dome of the ceiling gave it a unique look. There were no windows on the walls. Instead, rays of afternoon sunlight streamed in through a round skylight cut into the middle of the dome. It was framed by black iron that extended down and joined together into a complex support pole at the center of the room. More black bars extended from the edge of the window frame, creating a curved pattern over the terracotta walls that resembled a metal spider web.

Garrison turned in slow circles to take in the full view.

"Interesting design choice."

"More of a necessity than a choice." I flicked a switch on the wall and an automated shade covered the skylight. "The pole at the center couldn't be removed, but adding a skylight was the only way to get some natural light in here without compromising the structure. So, the architect designed a support system that branched around the window and extended down the curve of the dome."

A dimmer switch on the room's remaining lights created an artificial dusk. We could still see, but the dim atmosphere softened harsh edges and gave everything a dreamlike quality.

"It was a construction nightmare, but fortuitous in the end. I wasn't certain about it at first. Now I quite like it."

"It suits you."

Under different circumstances, I would have admired how easily the other man fit inside my personal space. At the moment, however, the fire smoldering in my gut drew my attention elsewhere. I couldn't stop staring at the way Garrison's shirt strained across his chest with each movement. From now on, all of Garrison's clothing would need to be tailored, or I was going to be trapped in a state of perpetual arousal.

I licked my dry lips before speaking.

"I'm glad you think so. Now, are we going to keep discussing interior design, or are you going to come over here?"

Finally, Garrison stopped looking around the room and turned his attention back where it belonged. Firmly fixed on me. Our eyes met and a spark passed between us.

As much as I wanted to just grab the man, I waited for Garrison to come to me.

It was a short wait.

Garrison's long legs took only a few strides to bring him into my arms. Our lips found each other easily, hotter and heavier than before. Tongues danced and breath mingled. The spark between us ignited, and I felt burned from the inside out.

Large hands tangled in my shoulder length hair, locking my head in place as I was devoured. I was already panting from just a kiss.

How much better would it be once our clothes were off?

Time to find out.

With the ripping of fabric and buttons, Garrison's shirt floated to the floor in pieces. I smirked against our kiss when Garrison barely seemed to notice. I would need to give Raymond an extra-large tip. The tailor was going to be very busy.

The kiss ended, but I stayed close enough for our lips to brush. "Still not enough."

Then, without warning, I shoved Garrison back toward the bed. It took all of my strength to knock the other man off balance, and even that couldn't get the job done. There was an obvious moment where Garrison could have caught himself.

Instead, he shifted his feet and let himself fall.

The bed bounced when Garrison landed flat on his back, arms splayed haphazardly to his sides. I immediately followed, straddling his hips and kissing him hard enough to press him into the mattress.

"That's better," I said when I abandoned Garrison's mouth to spread kisses down the man's neck. "More access."

I nearly ripped my own shirt as I slid the offending garment off my shoulders while trailing more kisses over Garrison's chest. Reaching the center of one well-defined pec, I bit the flesh beneath my mouth.

"You know, you could help."

This finally stirred Garrison from his stunned state. The man's hands became flurry of motion, attacking the fastenings for both of our pants.

Working together, we managed to discard all of our clothes. Everything ended up on the floor, except for Garrison's knee brace. That stayed firmly in place.

I pressed a quick kiss to one of the ugly scars running under a strap, then moved on to more important things.

Like the slide of flesh against flesh as I straddled Garrison's hips once again.

This time my body was on full display. I shivered as I felt the path of Garrison's eyes over my skin, starting at my chest and slowly moving downward.

It took longer than expected for Garrison to notice the special surprise waiting under my clothing. Normally, it was one of the first things to grab people's attention, but Garrison seemed so distracted by the lines of my legs that he complexly skipped over what lay between them. When the man finally did notice, his sudden gasp sent me rocking forward.

The silver hoop in my eyebrow wasn't my only piercing.

Dragging one hand along my own thigh—since Garrison seemed to like my legs so much— I stroked one finger up the length of my cock. My movements were deliberate, showing off the three barbell piercings along the underside of my shaft.

"See something interesting?"

Swallowing hard, Garrison nodded. He reached up to wrap one hand around my cock, broad palm covering most of the shaft. With his thumb, he toyed with one of the piercings, pressing the ball bearing on the end back and forth.

I gasped when the surprisingly delicate touch sent fire licking up my spine.

"Wait. Stop."

Garrison's hand immediately froze. I wanted to weep at the sudden loss of stimulation, but forced myself to pull Garrison's hand away from my cock.

"Sorry, but if you keep doing that, this isn't going to last long. How about this?"

Grabbing each of the man's wrists, I guided Garrison's hands to the wrought iron headboard.

"Hold on, and don't let go."

Nodding, Garrison laced his fingers through the metal bars and gripped tight to the frame.

Ideally, I would have liked to tie Garrison to the bed. I had some restraints stored in a nearby drawer, but I didn't think we were ready for that. Such submission would require a level of trust neither of us were ready for yet. Maybe in the future. For now, I would make do with the honor system.

From there, it became a game. I slowly slid down Garrison's body, running my mouth over his neck and chest and stomach in a search for sensitive spots. Tugging with my teeth on one of Garrison's nipples earned me a slight gasp. Running my tongue over the edges of well-defined abs caused Garrison to laugh, which wasn't what I wanted. My goal was to find Garrison's limit and make the man lose control.

I hit paydirt when my hand brushed over a long, jagged scar low on Garrison's hip. The man's whole body jerked, and he nearly let go of the headboard.

I could feel a grin pulling at my face, no doubt making me look like a lecherous Cheshire cat. Letting our bodies rub together, I moved down farther until my face was only inches from Garrison's hip.

With my lips and tongue, I teased the uneven texture of the scar. Above me, out of my line of sight, Garrison let out a moan. The longer I kept up my attack, the more out of breath Garrison sounded until the larger man was practically writhing against the sheets. I pressed down on Garrison's hips, pinning the man to the bed. Then, still with my mouth, I followed the line of the scar like an arrow pointing me to my final goal.

Garrison's cock stood hard and eager against his stomach, already leaking pre-cum over his abs.

This part of Garrison's anatomy was as tall and thick as everything else on the man, and I was delighted to find him uncircumcised. With the broad flat of my tongue, I licked a stripe up the shaft of Garrison's cock. Then I laughed when Garrison started cursing.

"It's been a while for you, hasn't it? You're more sensitive than I expected."

Garrison gasped for air, filling his lungs to capacity as he struggled to calm down. "Honestly… can't remember the last time I was with someone."

I hummed low in my throat, letting my lips brush the head of Garrison's cock so the other man could feel the vibrations. "Better prepare yourself then. This is gonna be fun."

Taking a deep breath, I swallowed as much of Garrison as I could in one go. I only managed about half before it hit the back of my throat and I had to stop. Still, it was enough to have Garrison writhing like an electric eel.

With slow, careful movements, I started bobbing my head up and down, letting Garrison's cock slide between my lips and laving over the head with my tongue.

Garrison moaned and cursed again. His voice cut off like he was being strangled when I sped up.

Usually, due to my family heritage, people were eager to fall on their knees for me. I never got to be on the giving side of the exchange, and I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed it. Having this level of control over my partner's pleasure could easily become an addiction.

A pair of hands gripped my hair. Abandoning Garrison's cock, I scowled up at the other man.

"Put your hands back where they belong."

It took several moments, and a few deep breaths, for Garrison to process what I said. When he did, his hands shot back up to the headboard so quickly his knuckles banged against the metal.

I smirked. "Good boy."

Then I returned to sucking Garrison's cock with a vengeance.

This time, I managed to swallow most of it, sending Garrison into a writhing fit. The man cursed, and even pleaded, which in turn made my own arousal twist tighter in my gut. I rutted against Garrison's leg, teasing myself while simultaneously speeding up the motion of my head.

An inorganic groan of metal caught my attention and I pulled away again.

Garrison was gripping the iron headboard so tightly he'd bent one of the smaller bars out of shape.

The man hadn't even noticed what he'd done. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be talking himself through a series of breathing exercises. Sweat dripped over flushed skin, catching in the dip between his pecs as his chest heaved.

My throat suddenly went dry. I swallowed several times and licked my lips as I fought to control the arousal pooling in my brain. Garrison was stronger than any man who had submitted to me before. I needed to feel that strength beneath me.

Fishing out a few supplies from the bedside table, I returned to straddling Garrison's thighs. "Just give me a minute, big guy. Then we can really get started."

With practiced movements, I rolled a condom down over Garrison's cock. Maybe someday we could forgo such protection, but just like the restraints I wanted to use, we weren't at that level of trust yet.

By then, Garrison had calmed down enough to watch with eager eyes as I poured lubricant over my own fingers. Knowing I had an audience, I made a production out of reaching behind myself and rubbing the lube around the rim of my hole. Little sparks of pleasure raced up my spine, but they only served to whet my appetite.

Garrison was a feast, and I wouldn't be satisfied until I glutted myself on the man.

With a moan, I slipped two fingers inside myself and scissored them open to stretch my internal muscles. This was even worse. It felt like a watered-down version of the stretch I really wanted. Impatience built like a ball of pressure at the base of my skull.

Damn the limits of the human body.

I didn't take as much time preparing as I probably should have, given Garrison's size, but h I couldn't wait. The moment I deemed myself stretched enough to avoid injury, I pulled out my fingers and shifted m hips. Garrison's cock pressed right up against my ass, seemingly just as eager as I felt.

In this position, with me sitting astride Garrison's hips, the other man had no choice but to wait for me to make the next move. Arousal turned into a rush of power greater than any I'd known in his mafia-fueled life.

Oh, yes, this could definitely become an addiction.

Without a word of warning, I let my hips drop and impaled myself on Garrison's cock. It was painful, as expected, but also so good. I moaned and shuddered, clenching my internal muscles around the intrusion, which dragged a groan out of Garrison as well.

As the pain faded, I raised myself up until the head of Garrison's cock barely remained inside me. I paused just long enough to see the other man squirm, then I plunged down again.

Garrison shouted and I threw my head back as pleasure sang through my veins. The thick girth of Garrison's arousal spread me open without mercy, like being fucked by an iron bar. Biting my lip, I breathed deep through my nose, then repeated the action.

Slow up, and quick down.

Over and over.

Each time Garrison seemed to hit a little deeper, until I expected to feel the outline of the man's cock through my skin when I pressed a hand to my own stomach.

"Fuck." I nearly bit my tongue on the curse word as I started bouncing wildly. "Fuck. You're so… so much. Too much. I need more."

Our momentum shifted when Garrison bucked his hips up at the same time I dropped down. The added force sent his cock slamming right into my prostate.

Ecstasy flooded my brain, nearly making me come on the spot. I braced my hands on Garrison's chest to keep myself upright.

"Ah. Right there. Yes."

My legs trembled and my muscles locked up; I was unable to move.

Yet, Garrison didn't stop. The man kept thrusting upward, digging his heels into the mattress for more leverage even as he dutifully maintained his grip on the headboard.

Sitting atop Garrison as the man fucked up into me was like riding a bucking bronco without a saddle. I clung to Garrison's shoulders to maintain my seat on the wild ride. Through sheer will, I managed to start moving my hips again. I met Garrison thrust for thrust as we pushed each other toward the height of pleasure just out of reach.

Garrison didn't say a word. He made plenty of noise, grunts and groans and moans, but he didn't talk much during sex.

That was fine. I babbled enough for the both of us.

"Come on, baby." My nails clawed red streaks over Garrison's chest. "I can tell you're close. Give it to me."

White lights danced around the edges of my vision. I didn't dare look away from the pleasure illuminating Garrison's face. It took all of my control to push back the orgasm building under my skin and in my belly. I wanted to see Garrison finish first.

Metal bent even more under Garrison's straining grip as the man approached his end.

When the moment finally came, it was beautiful. As Garrison was lost in his own small death, the lines of his face softened. Even the scar cutting down his cheek seemed to diminish.

Fucking myself down on Garrison as the other man rode out the last waves of orgasm, I tumbled over the edge of my own peak. My thighs clenched tight around Garrison's hips, locking us together. Every nerve in my body erupted at the same time. It seemed to go on forever, crashing over me in waves. Each time I thought it was over, I'd be pulled back into the tide of pleasure.

Eventually, it ended and my heart rate returned to normal, though it took several minutes for my thoughts to return from the gray haze they'd wandered off into.

When I could properly think again, I looked down at the man below me and immediately started laughing.

"I'm so sorry."

My apology lost its effect when I could barely form the words through my laughter.

Grumbling under his breath, Garrison released the headboard to wipe the results of my orgasm off his face.

"At least I'll know it's coming next time."

My laughter died, replaced by a bloom of warmth taking root behind my breastbone. We hadn't discussed "next time". For Garrison to make such an assumption had to mean the man could also see himself as a staple in my life.

Together we managed to disentangle ourselves and clean up. By then it was barely mid-afternoon, but I was already exhausted. A nap sounded perfect. I invited Garrison to join me, which the man accepted with little persuasion. We lay together in the dim light of the bedroom, still undressed, close enough for our legs to intertwine despite the bed being more than big enough for two people.

Garrison stretched out on his stomach with his folded arms acting as a pillow. His eyes were closed, but he was obviously still awake based on his breathing pattern. The bed sheet barely covered his hips, leaving his back on full display.

It was an invitation I couldn't refuse. I lay on my side with my head propped up on one hand while my other traced the burn scars on Garrison's back.

Without opening his eyes, Garrison pressed his shoulder blade more firmly into my palm. "If you're going to ask, just ask. I don't mind."

A tempting offer. One that I almost accepted. I followed the scars with my fingers until the rippled skin disappeared under the sheet, then I switched to drawing circles on Garrison's upper arm instead.

"What's the meaning of this tattoo?"

I noticed the design before but hadn't given it much thought. A tattoo was a choice, so it hadn't seemed as important as the remnants of unwanted injuries. However, now that I got a closer look, my interest was piqued.

Pairs of identical boots were arranged in a ring around Garrison's right biceps. Each boot pair had a rifle sticking up from the center, and a helmet balanced on top of the gun.

This time, Garrison did open his eyes, though his gaze stayed rooted on the wall.

"It's a battlefield cross. They mark soldiers that have been killed."

It was then that I noticed a name on the side of one of the guns written in barely visible font. Checking the other guns, I found different names in the same places.

I wanted to know, but I couldn't ask. Even if Garrison was willing to tell me, that was a level of intimacy we weren't ready for.

Placing a quick kiss to the tattoo, I let the matter drop.

We lay in silence, listening to nothing but the sounds of our own breathing.

I was half asleep when an unexpected question from Garrison broke the quiet atmosphere.

"So, who is Valente to you? Because he seems to hate me, and if he's going to be around a lot that could be a problem."

Snapped out of my thoughts, I patted Garrison's shoulder. "It's not you. Valente was my father's… is my father's right-hand man. He's loyal to my family and dislikes all outsiders. Pretty sure he'd hate me too if I didn't have Russo blood in my veins."

That seemed to shock Garrison. Not outwardly, the man's face was a stoic and unreadable mask, but his body told a different story. Under my hand, the muscles of Garrison's back tensed.

"Hate you? Why? If anything he seems protective of you."

"Valente is protective of my family. Not me. He hates me because I'm gay. He's never said it out loud, but he gets this look on his face every time my sexuality comes up."

Garrison's head rose up from his arms and he glanced at the space between our bodies. Or the lack of space, as it was.

"If he's homophobic and protective of your family, then he's really going to hate me. The gay stranger who seduced you into bed."

The ridiculousness of such a statement gave me no choice. I had to retaliate with a kiss. It was a chaste exchange compared to our previous kisses. Our lips parted just enough for a quick slip of tongues before it ended.

"Pretty sure I'm the one who did the seducing."

"I don't think your man is going to see it like that."

A shiver shot up my spine at the implication of Garrison's words. "Don't call Valente my man . It sounds weird. You're my man. I hired you. You belong to me. Valente works for my father. That's all."

Garrison rarely let himself show big expressions. So, the smirk that lifted his lips, although small, was a maniacal grin by comparison.

"So, he's your father's man."

The image that came to mind caused another shiver to spread over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "Stop it. You're making it worse."

Garrison opened his mouth to speak again, but I cut him off by kissing him. It was an idle exchange, not meant to incite anything more. One kiss led to two, and then three. Then the kisses bled together and weren't worth counting.

Under the sheets, I rubbed my leg over Garrison's calf, seeking comfort in the slide of skin against skin. My thigh brushed the edge of Garrison's knee brace.

Like the tattoo, I'd also seen the brace before and dismissed it. Now it sparked my imagination.

Was it also the result of a combat injury?

Would Garrison ever tell me the stories behind all his scars?

The kiss continued, and I slid my hand down until it found one of the many scars decorating Garrison's body. This one was shaped like a starburst and lay in the hollow of Garrison's shoulder.

I loved these scars.

Each one brought a little spark of hope that Garrison could understand the violent life I came from. Maybe, once I scraped up the courage to admit who I really was, I wouldn't have to lose the man I'd just found.