Tattoo (Take It Off #7)(49)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Some people are just worth the risk.”

A wall inside my chest, a wall I hadn’t even realized was there, crumbled to pieces. I kissed her as if we weren’t in the center of a crime scene full of people. It was the first kiss of the rest of my life.

Finally, I was home.

EPILOGUE

Taylor

It was the middle of the day, not quite lunchtime, but close. I parked just outside my townhouse and jumped out of the car, practically running up the walk toward the front door. The keys jangled as I riffled through them, looking for the one to unlock the door.

My hands were trembling with excitement and it was hard to think. I was still fumbling with the keys when the front door opened and a muscular, tattooed arm reached out and grabbed me, yanking me into the cool air-conditioned inside.

I giggled as the keys clattered onto the floor and the door slammed shut. Brody pounced, pushing me up against the back of the door and pinning me with his already rock-hard erection.

He was completely naked, and I squealed with satisfaction.

“You’re late,” he growled.

“Meeting.” I gasped as he ripped open my shirt and buttons went flying in all directions. His hands were rough as he yanked down the lacey black cups of my bra, completely exposing my breasts.

He didn’t say anything more as he dipped his head and drew one of the aching nipples into his mouth, sucking on it vigorously and making me cry out with pleasure. As he sucked, my arms wound their way around his back, and I dug my hands into the backs of his shoulders.

Brody rotated his hips and his straining cock poked at my abdomen, rocking against me… practically dry-humping against the wall. I reached between us and took his large member in my hand, squeezing around the head and making him shudder.

He ripped away his mouth and moved over to the next breast, where he began nipping at the sensitive flesh. The more I squeezed, the more he nipped.

I laughed a throaty laugh because he felt so incredibly good.

Finally, he lifted his head and moved upward, capturing my lips with his. I sighed into him as that completely intoxicating tongue of his swept deep inside my mouth. I purred when his hand went around behind me and slid down the zipper of my skirt.

I needed him so badly that I helped push away my skirt, discarding the panties right there beside the door with it. I’d learned a long time ago not to wear stockings. They ended up shredded in pieces on the floor.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he lifted me. My legs wrapped around his hips and I pushed my already wet and ready center along his abs, the tight ridges of his muscles making my inner walls flex with need.

He took several steps backward and lowered himself on the stairs with me straddling his lap.

“Ride me,” he growled, picking me up by the waist and centering me on his steely, unbending rod. I slid over him gladly, wrapping him in my sleek heat. My nails dug into his chest as he filled me to capacity, and his head fell back while he groaned loudly.

I leaned forward, licking up the center of his throat and trailing wet kisses over his flesh. He grabbed my hips and I started to move, riding him like he was a wild bull and I was a cowboy.

Every single time I rocked, the sides of his rigid length would rub along my inner walls, massaging the swollen, needy flesh and making me moan. Brody wrapped his arms around me and surged upward, angling his hips off the stair and penetrating me even deeper. I bore down on him. The pressure of our bodies rubbing together was so good that it made me cry out.

When his lips closed over my nipple and tugged, an orgasm ripped through me. I felt my wet insides coat him as his cock began to pulse within me. I kept rocking, unable to stop. The waves of pleasure just kept crashing over me.

Brody slammed himself up inside me one last time and shouted my name. His hot seed spilled inside me, and my body gulped it in like I was a dying man in need of a drink.

I collapsed against him, my skin slick with sweat and breathing heavily. God, he was so unbelievable satisfying. Sometimes I marveled at the fact we’d been together for almost an entire year, yet we still rushed home on our lunch hours just so we could be together.

He drew lazy circles over my lower back with his fingertip, and I reveled in the way his touch made me quiver.

“Damn, I love living here,” he drawled, the satisfaction in his tone undeniable.

Not long after we started dating, my best friend moved out to take a job a few hours away, and since Brody always told me I was his home, he moved in.

“I love you,” I told him.

His sigh was content when he lifted my boneless body off his chest so he could look into my face with his espresso stare. “I love you, Taylor.” His voice was husky from our heated sex.

I was never going to get tired of hearing him say that. I collapsed once more against his bare chest and sighed.

“I was thinking,” he said. “We should get out of town for a bit, just me and you.”

I sat up and stared down at him, the red waves of my hair falling between us. “Is it work? Has someone made a threat against you?”

“No, Tay.” He tucked the hair behind my ear. “Nothing like that. There hasn’t been one hint of a threat or retaliation since that night Snake came to your dad’s.”

I blew out a breath. It seemed his past with the organization was definitely behind us and wasn’t going to be a risk toward our future. “Then why do you want to leave town?”

He smiled. “There’s this thing called vacation…”

I smiled. “Oooh, I like the sound of that.”

“I’m thinking Hawaii. The sand, the water, you… me…” He gave me a suggestive look, reaching up to cover my breast with his palm.

“I like the way you’re talking.”

“I was also thinking maybe while we’re there… you might marry me.”

The world stopped. It was as if we were a movie and someone hit pause. Long, incredible seconds stretched by. And then I took a breath.

“You want to get married?” I whispered.

“I want to tie myself to you in every possible way.” From somewhere, despite his naked body, he produced a small velvet box.

I took it and carefully lifted the lid.

Nestled in the velvet pillow was a ring I knew very well. A sob ripped from my throat.

“How did you—” my voice broke as I reached down to finger the gorgeous antique ring. It was my mother’s wedding ring. My mother’s mother wore it before she passed it on to my father to give it to her.

As a child, I used to sit and admire it, thinking how beautiful it was and how much my father must have loved her to give her something so sentimental. It was something I always would associate with my mother because she never took it off. In fact, she loved it so dearly I thought she was buried with it when she died.