No Tomorrow

Lyric narrates each photo for Blue, and his hands shake as he turns the pages. I hope her squirming into his heart isn’t too overwhelming for him. Other than myself, Reece, and Acorn, I’ve never heard him mention anyone else who’s been in his life for any length of time. No ex-girlfriends, no other friends, not even family.

“This is awesome,” he says with glistening eyes when he’s reached the end of the photos. “And your poems are epic. Did you know I write poems and songs, too?”

“Mom told me. But she said I’m not old enough to listen to your music yet because you say bad words.”

He laughs and gives me a playful side-eye. “She did, huh? Well, that’s probably true. I could write you a poem and give it to you next time I see you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Can I tell my friends I have a dad now?” she asks, touching the ends of his hair.

“Um, yeah.”

“Are you going to tell your friends about me, too?”

“I already did. I told them you’re the cutest, smartest, most badass kid in the world.”

“Blue….” I nudge him under the table with my foot.

“What?” he says innocently. “She is.”

Lyric giggles and I shake my head at them. I can already tell Blue’s going to be the ‘cool dad’ who probably won’t ever be much help in the child discipline department, but that’s okay. He’s here, he’s making an effort, and we’re all getting along great. I can’t ask for anything else.

“I don’t want to leave.”

Five words.

That’s all it took to sway me.

I’m weak. Defenseless. Craving his touch. Crazy in love.

Lyric went to bed a little over an hour ago, and we’ve been on the couch all tangled up in each other watching a movie since.

Kissing, mostly. There hasn’t been much movie-watching at all.

He rolls on top of me and leans up on his elbows to study my face. “Let me stay…” His mouth covers mine, his tongue licking over my bottom lip, teasing me with what’s to come.

“Blue….”

“Say yes.”

I undo the remainder of the buttons of his shirt and push the material away, running my fingertips from his chest down to his narrow waist.

“Okay,” I say between kisses. “But you have to be in the guest room when Lyric wakes up. Not in my bed.”

“I can do that.” His lips curve into a smile against mine. “Didn’t you say you were going to do something so I couldn’t leave?”

“Do I need to worry about you leaving when I’m not looking?”

I tilt my head to the side and my eyes fall closed at the nip of his teeth and the flick of his tongue on my neck.

“Not a chance, Ladybug,” he whispers.

“You better not.”

Lifting his head up, he touches my chin, coaxing me to meet his eyes.

“Trust me.” He takes a deep breath. “Please?”

I nod, keeping my eyes on his. “I’m trying to,” I say softly.

He stands and lifts me in his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He carries me to my bedroom, gently putting me on my feet next to the bed.

“Leave it open a little,” I say when he turns to close the door behind us. “I never close the door all the way.”

He swaggers toward me with a panty-melting grin on his face, his hands unbuckling his leather belt. “Think you can be quiet, Ladybug?”

Nope.

“I’ll have to be, won’t I?” My pulse flutters with anticipation as he closes the space between us, jeans unzipped and hanging low on his hips. I skim my fingers over the tribal ink design that spans his abs and disappears beneath the band of his boxers.

“Yeah. You will.” The low huskiness of his voice makes me breathless for more. “I think I’ll have to keep your pretty little mouth extra busy.” He fingers a lock of my hair, winds it around his hand, and tugs me closer. “Just to be sure.”

I’ve missed bedroom Blue.

My lips part to reply but his mouth crushes mine, his tongue diving deep, the metal bar sliding against the roof of my mouth. I clutch the fabric of his shirt, yanking it off his shoulders and down his arms. He shrugs it off and wraps his hands around my waist, lifting me off my feet. Our tongues clash and caress in a dance of love and desire.

He lowers me onto the bed and removes my clothes like he’d unwrap an unexpected gift. Slow. Quiet. Intent. His mouth and hands explore. Reclaiming what he never lost.

My body hums under his touch.

A soft moan slips from my lips when his hand travels up my thigh, fingers sliding into slickness.

“Shh…” he whispers, kicking off his boots and stepping out of his jeans.

His silhouette is stunning in the moonlight filtering through the window. Wide shoulders and chest taper down to that muscular v of his waist. He’s a six-foot-four onyx, rock star statue.