“Is it okay to pull this off and you hold it over your chest? It’ll be easier to move around without it getting in the way when you look.”
She nods, looking a bit nervous. When she leans forward, I slip the shirt over her head and press it into her hands. Clutching the shirt, she peeks up at me, her cheeks a shade brighter than normal.
I gesture to the mirror with my chin. “Take a look.”
I stay in front of her as she twists her neck and looks over her shoulder, her breath catching once she sees the canvas on her back.
“Oh my God,” she breathes in awe. “It looks amazing.”
My eyes leave the stunning view of her face in the mirror and travel down to the center of her back. Taza did a damn fine job capturing the old lighthouse just the way I wanted h
im to. It’s faded white with cracks down the walls and the windows shattered and is about twelve inches in length.
Rella’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. “Not that I don’t like it, but why a lighthouse?”
“The lighthouse is old and worn, enduring abuse from Mother Nature for years, but the light at the top still shines bright. After everything you’ve been through, all the pain and heartache and mental turmoil, your light was never extinguished. You shine just as bright as you always have and light up everything you touch.”
She stares at me for several silent moments before she turns to face me and cups one of my cheeks. “That’s beautiful, Aziah.”
“You’re beautiful.”
I feel ten feet tall and invincible when she smiles. Her hand slides through my hair at the same time she lets go of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor, and leans up on her toes, tugging my head down for a kiss. For once, I don’t fight it. I seal our lips together and wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her flush against me. I silently curse the shirt I’m wearing because it blocks me from feeling how soft her breasts are.
Both of her arms are around my neck. I groan, deep in my throat, and marvel in her delicious taste as we tangle our tongues together.
Why is it the one woman who breathes life into my dead body is the only woman I can’t have? I know why. It’s my punishment for all the sins I’ve committed.
Rella moans against my lips, and it takes every ounce of control I possess to not carry her to my bed, lay her down, and worship every inch of her body. I want her so much I can feel it in my bones. It’s a need that’s slowly making me forget why I can’t have her.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I reluctantly pull away. It feels wrong. Like I’m going against the universe by not keeping Rella right where she is.
When I open my eyes, the look on her face almost has me relenting. Her lids are half-closed, her face flushed, and her lips glisten and are swollen from my kisses. I lick my lips, just to see if I can still taste her.
I can, and it does nothing to help the raging hard-on I have.
I try to keep my eyes on her face, but they have a mind of their own. Before I know it, they’ve slipped down to her chest. Creamy smooth mounds the perfect size for my hands tipped with hard little nipples tempt me to reach out for them.
Fuck, I’ve never struggled this much when it comes to women. Hell, I don’t struggle at all, because women don’t tempt me. Not like this.
I release a shaky breath and bend down to grab Rella’s shirt.
“Let’s get this on you. I need to go check to see if Taza is finished cleaning up.”
It’s a bullshit excuse. Taza always gets his shit together and leaves on his own. He’s probably already gone, especially since he would assume from the kiss Rella and I shared while he was tattooing her back that we would want to be alone.
Rella’s expression displays dejection, and it makes me feel like the lowest asshole on earth. I’d give anything to be the man she thinks I am, but I’m too far past redemption.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RELLA
I SIT WITH MY BACK FACING Aziah as he gently rubs the ointment over my new tattoo. Earlier today, I was both surprised and touched at the reasoning behind the design. He likes to claim he’s not good enough for me, that his “sins” make him less than a man. He’s so very wrong. Aziah is my equal in every way. I’ve come to realize, he’s my other half.
I play with the ends of my loose hair and unabashedly enjoy the feeling of his fingers running over my flesh. The area is sensitive, but Aziah was right. It hurt getting the tattoo, but it also felt good. It actually felt the same as when I cut myself, so I can see how it would help my cravings.
A delightful shiver races down my spine and settles in my stomach when he leans down and kisses the back of my neck. I wish he would do more. I want to test myself to see how far I can go, but I know he won’t allow it.
After he carefully pulls down my shirt, I turn to face him.