Page 74 of A Taste of Vanilla

Because he’s not just large, he’s built in a way that feels personally directed at me.

Broad shoulders, thick chest, heavy arms, a solid stomach that is not some fitness-ad fantasy but is powerful, real, anddeeply rude. His skin is covered in ink, far more than I expected. Tattoos wrap both arms and move over his shoulders, down his chest, and across his ribs.

Dark lines. Detailed work.

A raven near his collarbone, a map on one arm and flowers down the other. Script I cannot read along his ribs. Fine lines disappearing low beneath the waistband of his jeans.

I stare.

Then I stare some more.

He does not move.

His face is blank and almost… defensive? Like he just took off more than his shirt.

“You hide those,” I say, thinking about his long shirt in the hot summer heat.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Habit.”

I know that’s not the whole answer, but tonight is not for prying open wounds.

So I step closer instead. I lift one hand and stop just before touching his chest. “Can I?”

His expression changes. It softens. “Yes.”

I place my palm against him.

His skin is warm and I feel his steady heartbeat under my palm. He inhales through his nose, controlled but absolutely not unaffected by this.

I trace the raven with one fingertip. “They’re beautiful,” I say.

His chest moves. For a second, he says nothing.

Then, quietly, “They’re not for everyone.”

I close my eyes. “Neither am I.”

When I open them, he’s looking right at me.

He kisses me. There is no wall between us this time. No jokes. Only his hands sliding beneath the hem of my tank, his palmshot against my back, and my body answering so fast I almost resent it.

Clothes come off in pieces. My tank, his boots, my jeans, his belt. Each thing discarded feels less like undressing and more like undoing.

This week, or maybe the ring, or maybe the shame. The version of me that stood in that office and wondered how long everyone else had known I was a fool.

He kisses the inside of my wrist, then moves to my shoulder.

He drops to his knees.

Kisses the scar on my knee from dropping a sheet pan a few years ago.

The soft part of my stomach.

I tense.