going to ask, so I blurt it out to get it over with.
“Most are burn scars. A few wounds from knives when he ‘accidentally’ slipped. There are cuts from scissors, the more jagged ones are from the broken beer bottles.”
I’m watching her trace the ink lines and circle the scars. Her hands travel to my collarbone and trace my mother’s name, giving me the chills from such an emotional connection. She keeps moving her fingers as they trail around my pecs and to the one scar that I haven’t hidden yet.
“Why don’t you cover this one?” Her voice is almost a whisper as her fingers graze along the raised bump that runs under my left pectoral and around my side.
“It’s a constant reminder to me not to turn out like him.” I know my voice is low, but I’ve suddenly lost interest in connecting over my tattoos. “Come on, let’s get ready.” I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom.
I may be being an asshole, but that scar isn’t something I want to talk about. I’ve never told anyone about the reasoning behind that scar, and today isn’t the day to tell Red. Today we sightsee, because tomorrow morning we leave and go back to reality. A reality I don’t want to meet without her by my side. I know we will have to deal with her friend eventually, but today I want to enjoy our trip. She’s never been here, so I want to show her everything this city has to offer.
She knocks on the bathroom door and I realize I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror for at least fifteen minutes, not moving to get ready. Opening the door she looks hesitant to say anything, so I smile and sigh.
“Shit, Red. Sorry. That was a jerk-off thing to do. I’ll tell you eventually, I promise you. I’m just not ready for that today.”
“That’s all I ask, Tex.” She smiles at me and walks behind me to start the shower. “You getting in?” She asks as she opens the door to the glass enclosed shower.
“Fuck yes,” I smile and follow her in, leaving all of my drama behind.
She squirts the hotel shampoo into her hands after wetting her hair and works it into her bright red locks, cringing when some of it drips into her eyes.
“Ooo fuck!” She throws her head back into the water and I can’t help but admire the body of the woman in front of me. Her bruising is starting to fade and the tattoos that twist over her ribs and down her leg are exquisite.
Looking at me with watery eyes, she laughs at herself and we turn so I can get clean. The shampoo hotel doesn’t smell like Red, but the way it mixes with her scent is truly intoxicating. Even getting ready together in the bathroom I can smell her, a mixture now of fresh baked cookies and relaxing fruits. She’s simply delicious. It surprises me how something as mundane as getting ready together makes me feel so alive, but now that I’ve had a taste of what this can be like I don’t ever want her to leave.
Today we are on our own, as Tatum and Molly have taken off for Barbados for a week, and I’m fucking pumped for being with her, just the two of us, all fucking day. Starting off at the Hershey factory, we make our way through so many museums, wax houses, casinos, and bars, that by the time dinnertime comes around we are both exhausted.
“Can we order in tonight?” she asks as we head back to the hotel. We just got done with a gondola ride in the Venetian hotel, and now she’s practically hanging on me, with her head resting on my arm. She’s so fucking short, but we fit so damn well together.
“That’s fine, but there’s something I want to show you after dark tonight, so no falling asleep!”
She laughs at me, as if she wouldn’t imagine falling asleep after being told not to.
Sure, I’ve heard that before.
After dinner, she slips on her sweater and I grab her hand. I don’t want her to miss it, and we have a little bit of a walk.
“Where are we going?” she asks, as she has to almost run to keep up with me. I slow my stride to give her a break,
“Most are burn scars. A few wounds from knives when he ‘accidentally’ slipped. There are cuts from scissors, the more jagged ones are from the broken beer bottles.”
I’m watching her trace the ink lines and circle the scars. Her hands travel to my collarbone and trace my mother’s name, giving me the chills from such an emotional connection. She keeps moving her fingers as they trail around my pecs and to the one scar that I haven’t hidden yet.
“Why don’t you cover this one?” Her voice is almost a whisper as her fingers graze along the raised bump that runs under my left pectoral and around my side.
“It’s a constant reminder to me not to turn out like him.” I know my voice is low, but I’ve suddenly lost interest in connecting over my tattoos. “Come on, let’s get ready.” I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom.
I may be being an asshole, but that scar isn’t something I want to talk about. I’ve never told anyone about the reasoning behind that scar, and today isn’t the day to tell Red. Today we sightsee, because tomorrow morning we leave and go back to reality. A reality I don’t want to meet without her by my side. I know we will have to deal with her friend eventually, but today I want to enjoy our trip. She’s never been here, so I want to show her everything this city has to offer.
She knocks on the bathroom door and I realize I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror for at least fifteen minutes, not moving to get ready. Opening the door she looks hesitant to say anything, so I smile and sigh.
“Shit, Red. Sorry. That was a jerk-off thing to do. I’ll tell you eventually, I promise you. I’m just not ready for that today.”
“That’s all I ask, Tex.” She smiles at me and walks behind me to start the shower. “You getting in?” She asks as she opens the door to the glass enclosed shower.
“Fuck yes,” I smile and follow her in, leaving all of my drama behind.
She squirts the hotel shampoo into her hands after wetting her hair and works it into her bright red locks, cringing when some of it drips into her eyes.
“Ooo fuck!” She throws her head back into the water and I can’t help but admire the body of the woman in front of me. Her bruising is starting to fade and the tattoos that twist over her ribs and down her leg are exquisite.
Looking at me with watery eyes, she laughs at herself and we turn so I can get clean. The shampoo hotel doesn’t smell like Red, but the way it mixes with her scent is truly intoxicating. Even getting ready together in the bathroom I can smell her, a mixture now of fresh baked cookies and relaxing fruits. She’s simply delicious. It surprises me how something as mundane as getting ready together makes me feel so alive, but now that I’ve had a taste of what this can be like I don’t ever want her to leave.
Today we are on our own, as Tatum and Molly have taken off for Barbados for a week, and I’m fucking pumped for being with her, just the two of us, all fucking day. Starting off at the Hershey factory, we make our way through so many museums, wax houses, casinos, and bars, that by the time dinnertime comes around we are both exhausted.
“Can we order in tonight?” she asks as we head back to the hotel. We just got done with a gondola ride in the Venetian hotel, and now she’s practically hanging on me, with her head resting on my arm. She’s so fucking short, but we fit so damn well together.
“That’s fine, but there’s something I want to show you after dark tonight, so no falling asleep!”
She laughs at me, as if she wouldn’t imagine falling asleep after being told not to.
Sure, I’ve heard that before.
After dinner, she slips on her sweater and I grab her hand. I don’t want her to miss it, and we have a little bit of a walk.
“Where are we going?” she asks, as she has to almost run to keep up with me. I slow my stride to give her a break,
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