I shuck off my shirt, climb onto the bed, and cover my body over her. Her fingers trace my stomach muscles and the black cursive font of my tattoo on my ribs. “I’ll always be with you, inside and out,” she reads it. “Through hard times and helpless ones, through love, through doubt.”
I lean back a little, bring her hand to my mouth, and gently kiss her palm. “You know I wrote that for you.” “No you didn’t.” Her eyelids flutter as I breathe on the sensitive spot of her wrist. “You wrote that when you were like sixteen.” “Actually fifteen.”
I release her hand and lie down on top of her, supporting my weight up with my arms. “I remember sitting down to write it and the only inspiration I had was your sad eyes—I couldn’t get them out of my head.” She pouts out her lip. “I don’t have sad eyes, do I?”
I brush my finger along her cheekbone and underneath one of her green eyes. “You did. All the time. And sometimes you still do.” “You look sad sometimes too,” she tells me with her auburn hair spread out across the pillow. “But right now you look happy.” “That’s because I am happy.”
I start singing her the lyrics and it makes her grin broaden. “There we go,” I say and kiss her deeply, nipping at her lip and tracing my tongue along the inside of her mouth. She encloses her long legs around me and things turn heated.
Threading my fingers through her hair, I caress her neck with my tongue until I know she’s going to have a hickey. Her shoulder shudders upward from the touch of my breath and she giggles. I put a small gap between us and look her in the eyes. “Does that tickle?”
She shakes her head with a solemn expression on her face. “No, not at all.” I pinch her side playfully and she jerks sideways, attempting to roll out from under me. “Please don’t.” She laughs, struggling for air. “Pretty please.”
I listen to her, because there’s something else I’m dying to do. I begin to undress her, deliberately at first, but then my movements turn desperate and I end up ripping some of the buttons off her shirt.
Minutes later, our clothes are in a pile on the floor. As I stare into her eyes, I consider begging her to come with me on the road, but the moment is fleeting and I realize I just can’t do that to her.