all.
She caressed his hair as she had that day, pushing it away from his face that was even more striking. His features had lost the last bits of youth during their separation, leaving the carved, hard beauty of a man in their wake. The shadow of stubble darkening his jawline made him appear more rugged than she remembered, but it was a look that worked surprisingly well for Tino.
“Let me.” He breathed against her breast before he licked at the trail of water running down the slope of it. “Let me, baby.” He tightened his hold on her hip, his fingers almost bruising in his desperation. “Please.”
She didn’t agree out loud. She couldn’t give voice to just how much she needed it. She didn’t know how this had happened to them. How life could be that cruel to turn her into this woman, damaged by life, love starved and willing to use Tino for his beauty and raw sexuality that had always been more of a curse than a gift, because damn if he wasn’t good at it.
And damn if she wasn’t letting him do it.
Even if she hated herself for it.
She tried not to think of the reasons why Tino had reverted to his old ways and was on his knees within five minutes of being naked with her, but she knew it probably made him very popular in Garnet. He was a sexual chameleon, able and willing to be whatever they wanted with complete and total disregard for his own needs.
No rules. No hang-ups. No limits.
Gorgeous and rentable to any woman willing to use him instead of love him.
Even now, Brianna wasn’t totally certain Tino even knew what his own needs were. They’d gotten lost somewhere along the way, and Tino might never know what he would’ve been if life had been kinder to him.
She moaned, feeling his rough palms on her thighs, his lips moving down to the back of her knee, and it felt good, but she tightened her hold on his hair anyway.
“No,” she whispered, before he could move lower and kiss her feet with the same reverence with which he was worshipping the rest of her. “I’m not her. I’m not any of them,” she reminded him and then asked again, “Who am I, Tino?”
“I know who you are,” he said against the back of her other knee. “I would do anything for you, Bri. I would spend a lifetime in that basement for you.”
“I would never ask you to do that,” she said softly. “How many women did you let use you like this? You promised, Tino. You promised you wouldn’t let this happen.”
Tino lifted his head and pressed his face against the flat plain of her stomach. “Does it make it better if I pretended it was you?” he asked like he really didn’t know the answer, as if it was something he had asked himself a thousand times before.
“No.” She tried to fight the tears. “That doesn’t make it better at all. I hate her. I hate her more than anyone in this world, and I hate the Borgata for turning me into her.”
“You’re not her, Bri.” Tino licked at the dip in her belly button. “You could never be her. You could never be any of them.” Then, as he kissed her hip bone once more, he reminded her, “You made me a promise too.” His voice darkened with a thread of anger when he asked again, “Was last night the first time he hurt you?”
She bit her tongue rather than answer and finally had to concede they had both broken their promises. Who the hell was she to give him shit about unhealthy relationships?
So screw it. They could both be fucked-up.
She slipped out of his arms and fell to her knees next to him. The hard tile stung, but she ignored it as she reached out and cupped Tino’s face. “How do you like it?” she asked, not for the first time. “When you think about it? When you’re all alone? What do you think about?”
“With you?” He raised his eyebrows and looked down at her body once more. “I like it all.” His hand slid up her rib cage slowly, making goose bumps dance over her skin, his touch soft and torturous at the same time. “I wanna worship
Mary Crockett, Madelyn Rosenberg