3. Rowen

That first year away at college, I was miserable. A new place, new people, and I'm not that person to venture out and make new friends. So, when Berkley came up the following year and we moved into our place, it was her suggestion to go get tattoos. I already knew what I wanted. The necklace I wear every single day since the day Braxton left it for me has been around my neck. I was game. I showed the tattoo artist the charm, she sketched it out, and it couldn't be any more perfect. The hardest part was getting the design area just right. I didn't want anyone but myself and Braxton to see it, not even if I were wearing a bathing suit.

Now I have this growly alpha slowly tracing every detail from my lower hip to the lips of my center, causing me to buck into his mouth. I should be pissed as hell. I didn't get so much as a hello, a hug, or a kiss. No, instead he's doing the most intimate thing possible, paying homage to my pussy, and I'm not even mad about it.

"Look at you. You're quivering for me. And this tattoo, siren, I'm going to want to lick, suck, and see it every chance I get," he whispers above my clit before latching on. Braxton turns my body into a writhing mess, and I couldn't be happier.

"I'm going to come," I moan before lifting my legs over his shoulders, my hands fisting my own hair as he alternates between hard and then light sucking, his fingers teasing at the entrance to my sex. I want him inside me, but Braxton knows as sure as I do that my body isn't ready for his length. He learned that three years ago, and when he asked me to save myself for him, well, I did exactly that.

"Come for me, Rowen, give it to me," he demands, doubling his effort. I let the sensation take over, the feeling of his tongue when he licks at me before nipping at my clit, then soothing it with gentle sucks before deepening it. He does this three more times until my body locks tight, and I swear I'm sucking the air supply out of him with the grip my thighs have around his head, but he never stops, not until I'm a boneless heap. Even then he keeps licking me.

"No more, please. It's too much," I plead. He moves up from his place between my legs, bringing me back up to a sitting position. His hand cups my neck, and he kisses me, finally. I don't care that I'm tasting myself on his lips. I needed this more than anything. The way he takes from me, it grounds me, feeling him beneath the tips of my fingers as I wrap my hands around his waist, my legs locking around his trim waist. We get lost in our kiss. He dominates the entirety of it, and I let him, utterly and completely. As long as I'm in Braxton's presence, the world could be falling apart around us, and I'd never know. That's how much he means to me.

"Rowen." He pulls away from our kiss, both of us breathless. My hand attempts to slide into the bottoms of his coveralls, but he stops me. I pout, but he pulls my lip down, causing me to laugh.

"If you get anywhere near my cock, I'll take you right here, and, siren, I'm not taking you for the first time on an office desk," Braxton tells me.

"Okay, but just so you know, I'm not hiding this from our friends and family for too long. We deserve to be happy. If we sink or soar, it's on us. Not them. I won't be your dirty little secret, Braxton Lucas Martinez." I throw his middle name in the mix like he did mine.

"Let's get one thing straight. You aren't now nor will you ever be my dirty little secret, but if you want to dress up and play my naughty secretary, you can do that." He winks. I cross my arms over my chest, not downplaying this for a second, but the pig just stares at my breasts.

"Oh my gosh, you're such a Neanderthal! I really did come here because my car is making a weird noise. I might need new tires, or it could be my rotors." I shrug my shoulders.

"You put those in front of me, I'm going to stare. Plus, they're mine." He goes to pull my straps down, but I stop him. There's no way I can take more today, unless he's finally going to make me his, well, in the biblical sense.

"Fine, but Jesus, how long has this been going on?" he asks.

"Um, since before I came home. So, maybe a month or two." I wince.

"You didn't think to bring it by sooner or have Bridger or Rob look at it?" He's getting pissy with me. He's not wrong, I probably should have brought it in sooner.

"Kind of difficult to do that when you aren't talking to me, and I mentioned it to Dad, but he's been busy with Mom lately. She's having a tough time, so I didn't want to put anything else on his or Bridger's plate." My eyes shimmer with tears, but I refuse to let them go. The Jennings family got hit with some devastating news early this summer. Mom was in a car accident, and the major culprit wasn't the broken ribs or wrist she received. That would have been easier. When her rib was broken, it punctured her lung, which then collapsed, and it's been a long journey. Some days are better than others. It still isn't easy, and Dad has been her rock the entire time, as well as all of us kids. There was just no way I could add any more to their plate, not with it just being something simple as my car.

"Yeah, I get it. How's she doing?" Braxton is still between my thighs, my arms hanging loosely over his shoulders, and finally his hands are holding me.

"Today is better, but she keeps having complications with fluid collecting. Sometimes it's something they can deal with at home, but for the most part, her heart rate drops when it happens, so Dad has to take her in."

"Fuck." Braxton doesn't say anything else. I'm grateful he's not giving me the obligatory I'm sorry like so many other people have around town. Instead, he pulls me in closer to his body, neither of us worrying about the grease that could stain my clothes. I need this more than anything right now. It was hard being away and finishing out my bachelor's in business degree. My parents wouldn't hear of me coming home early, and in the end, I'm glad because I probably would have never finished. I will say living at home again is not easy, and I'm already looking at apartments to rent. There's no way in hell I want to live there permanently. Bridger's offer of living in his pool house is appealing, but he's worse than Dad when it comes to being overprotective.

"Stay in here. I'll pull your car into the garage bay and look at it. If it's too bad, you can take my truck, and I'll drive the Bronco." I'm actually shocked. My mouth is wide open. It's written all over my face.

"Are you feeling okay? No one drives your truck, and you don't drive the Bronco unless it's something special. Even I know that," I say, astonished.

"Not letting you drive on bald tires either."

"You're not worried about what people could say, since, you know, this is all hush-hush?" I question.

"Nope, you tell them the reason why, they won't question dick. You know that. Sit tight. I'm going to go see the damage you caused." I roll my eyes before jumping off the desk.

"Whatever." Braxton kisses me one last time, this one showing the depth of his meaning. It's soft, and it's enough to make me want to hold on to him for the rest of the day. Knowing he needs to work, I peel myself away from him. That doesn't stop me from enjoying the view as he walks out the door towards the shop area. I spin around and take in the sight of his office. It's a freaking mess, and if I'm going to be in here for a couple of hours, I may as well clean this place up.