Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)

Then I felt him.

His chest brushed against my back as I flattened myself against the door. I moved as far out of his reach as possible. Unfortunately, it was only about an inch, and really unfortunately, he followed me forward, crushing me with his hard body.

That stubble I so desperately wanted to feel scrubbed up my neck, and his smile was so wide that I could feel it on his lips as he murmured, “Yeah, Ash. Tell me about the tattoo.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped when a witty retort failed me.

“Soon enough,” he purred, and my entire body heard his promise.

Instinctually, my back arched, pressing my ass into his hips.

Foiled by my own body!

It was at that point that I believed I must have had a small seizure—or perhaps a stroke? Because there were a full three seconds that I had absolutely no recollection of. One second, I felt Flint shift to my side. Then the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the ground with Flint on top of me.

He must have swept my legs with his crutch and caught us both on an arm before we crashed into the tile. However, with my luck, it could have been that my brain had suddenly figured out the miracle of teleportation and wasted it on moving me to the nearest horizontal surface. It didn’t really matter either way though, because ultimately, I was on the ground.

With Flint.

On top of me.

“Tell me about the tattoo,” he repeated.

His mouth was entirely too close to mine . . . But really, it was only entirely too close without actually touching mine. Now that would have been just the right amount of close.

“It’s nothing. You’ve already seen it,” I breathed, trying to shake off the desire to throw consequences to the wind and take his mouth in any and every way he was willing to offer it.

“Show. Me,” he ordered.

“It’s just a rock. It’s silly. I was sleeping with a guy who owns a tattoo shop—”

“She’s lying!” Judy’s voice once again entered our conversation. “He’s a volunteer. She wasn’t sleeping with him.”

“God damn it! Shut up, Judy!”

Flint chuckled as I dropped my head back against the tile floor and stared up at the ceiling.

This was not going as I’d planned. Although there’d never really been a plan for when Flint showed back up into my life. It was the one thing I’d never allowed myself to even consider.

The whole thing with Flint had been an adolescent, childish fling I’d had for one month when I was sixteen. He’d been completely right all of those years ago—I couldn’t love him. I was just young and stupid.

Unfortunately, I must have still been young and stupid, because I was still in love with Flint Page.

Defeated, I scooted over a few inches and lifted the hem of my shirt. Unwilling to see his reaction, I stared at the ceiling as he traced his callused hand up my side to my dream catcher tattoo.

He blew out a hard breath then asked, “When?” He cleared his throat. “When did you get this?”

I didn’t even have it in me to lie anymore. “About six months ago.”

That time, the breath was sharply drawn into his lungs. “Look at me,” he urged gently.

I shook my head while biting my bottom lip.

“I’m gonna kiss you. This is your only warning.”

“Flint,” I objected to the ceiling, but even to my ears, it came out as a plea.

Closing my eyes, I darted my out my tongue to moisten my lips and waited for his mouth to find mine.

However, that’s not what it found at all.





I PLACED AN OPENMOUTHED KISS to her side just below her tattoo, sealing a promise I was wholeheartedly making to both of us.

That tattoo.

That fucking tattoo.

Ash had made a few additions to her dream catcher since the last time I’d seen it. Hanging from the bottom were two black feathers. Fitting and simple enough. However, in between them was what looked like a simple rock at first glance, but the grey teardrop piece of flint wasn’t formed with lines. The tiny letters of my name were painstakingly repeated over and over to create and fill the entire design. Even the shading used to produce the curves and contours that gave it dimension were done within those tiny letters. The stone wasn’t any larger than the palm of her small hand, but the amount of detail was unreal.

Ash had marked herself as mine even when I hadn’t been there to do it myself.

I dragged my tongue across her flat stomach, sending chills over her pale skin.

She moaned as I pushed her shirt up to just under her breasts. I had a lot to say to her, but I also had an insatiable need to feel every inch of her that I had been missing.

I’d have to multitask.

“You don’t know me anymore.” I trailed kisses down to the waistband of her jeans and teased my fingers just underneath. “But we’ll fix that. We’ll start over.”

“I can’t,” she breathed, lifting her hips, encouraging me further.

“I’m taking you home, Ash. We’re giving this thing a real try.”