"It's fucking perfect."
She swallows hard—I can hear it. Feel it. "Wanna know a secret? I'm insecure as fuck about how huge my ass is."
"Well that's just fuckin' stupid."
"You can't call my insecurities stupid, Saxon," she murmurs, sounding stuck halfway between laughing and offended.
"Well I just did. You have the best ass I've ever seen."
"Then you need glasses."
"Twenty-twenty vision, babe."
"Then you have issues. I've got stretch marks and cellulite."
"So the fuck what?"
"It's too big."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"Says who?"
Silence.
"Someone said something to you. I wanna know who, so I can fuckin' kill him."
"I've always been insecure about it. But…Travis. He…was always telling me if I could just eat a little healthier and exercise more, I could tone it up. But no matter what I do, it just…never changes. I've fasted. Done Keto, carnivore, paleo, Weight Watchers, everything. I've done HIIT, spin classes, boot camps, walked everywhere, lifted weights…and it's all worked, to one degree or another. I've lost weight. Hit goal weight. Got skinny…ish. But my ass? Never fucking changes. Eventually, I gave all that shit up. Now I just eat pretty healthy most of the time, lift, and get some cardio in. Do a lot of glute-focused stuff, because if I can't make my ass smaller, it may as well be big and muscular instead of big and like a bowl of fucking pudding."
"Fucker's lucky he's already dead," I snarl. "I can't change how you feel about it right now, no matter what I say. Just don't ever call it, or any other part of you, fat, ever again. You're fucking perfect, top to bottom, inside and out. You'll just have to learn that I'm serious. Learn to trust me."
"I do trust you. I think."
"You think."
"I've only ever trusted Emily. Tommy a little. Yates, sort of, to a degree, like you'd trust a mentally challenged dog that compulsively humps everyone's legs, but he’s just super sweet."
I laugh at that. "Trust doesn’t happen right away."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yeah. I think." I smirk.
"Mean." She nuzzles my throat again and then pulls back, gaze serious, deep. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Anything."
"I've had this fantasy, ever since I started having sex—voluntary sex, I mean. It's what I masturbate to." Her voice drops so even from inches away, I have to strain to hear her. "Being with a man, feeling beautiful, and feeling wanted—not just lusted after, but…wanted for me. My body, yes, but me. The fantasy was always coming at the same time. Together. Bare. I've…that was the first time I've ever had sex without a condom since I started choosing to have sex. I'm on the shot and I've always made sure the guys I hooked up with used condoms. But with you, I…it…there was no question. I just wanted you. I've never, never been so desperate. I feel almost silly for how bad I needed you. And you…" she trails off, voice quavering. "You made my fantasy come true. I've never felt the way you made me feel, Saxon. That's why I'm so scared."
"Never not used condoms either." It's the scariest thing I've ever done, not guarding my expression, letting her see the depths of my unexplored feelings. "Being with you, bare, it was…fuck, Terra. More than just the physical sensations, which were out of this fucking world. You…you make me feel…" I shake my head. "I don't know. I don't fuckin' know."
She seems the turmoil, the inadequacy of words, the convulsions of my heart, my soul. "I know."
"When Rev and Kane and Chance told me they felt this crazy, intense bond with their women, like right away, I thought they were full of it. But now…I get it."
"Saxon," she breathes, eyes watering. "Don't. Don't play. Don't say shit you don't mean."
