Daddy Ink (Get Ink'd #1) - Ali Lyda Page 0,75

his, needing the closeness to continue. Truthfully, I never wanted it to end. Being inside of him...it felt like more than just pleasure. It felt like I was coming together fully, like I’d become all of me while connecting with him.

I traced his tattoos with my fingertips, something I’d longed to do since I first saw them. The designs were, I realized, based on Mayan art. Patterns that I’d initially thought of as mandalas were actually closer to the gods-based calendars, with flora and fauna motifs circling around them. Only occasionally was there something different, like the shield over his heart, surrounded by leaves and flowers that seemed to strengthen its protective quality.

“Why did you choose these designs?”

His reply came in an almost slurred, languid way. He must have been on the cusp of sleep. “My parents were from the Yucatan Peninsula. They c-came from Mayan heritage. I wanted to remember I c-came from something greater than two d-drug addicts.”

“The designs are gorgeous,” I murmured before pulling him closer. We were close enough I wondered if he could feel my heart beating against his back. “Hey, do you...want to stay the night?”

“I keep t-trying to fall asleep,” he teased, “if that’s answer enough.”

I laughed, burrowing my face into his shoulder. It was, and soon we were both slipping into a sated slumber.

20

Javi

I lifted the tiny spoon of cereal to Giuliana’s mouth, but her lips remained firmly pressed tight. Behind me, Gordo chuckled.

“I thought you were the master of child feedings,” he teased.

“Watch and learn,” I retorted, locking my gaze with Giuliana’s. Her eyes were getting darker all the time. While I’d be sad to see the blue go, it was Gordo’s brown eyes that would soon be reflected there instead, and I couldn’t help but look forward to that.

She giggled as if taunting me, but I began to open and close my mouth like a fish.

“You look ridiculous,” Gordo said, but I ignored him, continuing a fish mouth for Giuliana. Slowly but surely, she began to mimic me, her plump, rosy lips opening and closing. I lined up the spoon, waited, waited… there. A spoonful of cereal slipped easily into her mouth.

“Aha!” I turned to look at him, my smile smug. “There you go.”

“Why won’t she do that for me?” Gordo scooted over, taking the spoon and bowl from me. “Let me try.”

I shrugged. “Be my guest.”

He was right: watching someone else do the fishy face was hilarious and ridiculous. But he soon had Giuliana laughing and copying him, and he managed to get the spoonful into her mouth. She made a raspberry, sending the white, creamy cereal spraying all over his face.

I laughed so hard my sides hurt.

“Go ahead, laugh it up, Chuckles,” Gordo growled while wiping off his face. “I will pay you back in horribly cruel, delicious ways later.”

A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. “I should hope so.”

Leaning back, I looked at my boyfriend. Boyfriend. It still sounded strange in my head. The word created warmth in me, wrapping me up like a favorite blanket. The word used to terrify me; I associated it with inevitable heartbreak and loss. But with Gordo, it made me relax into it, no erratic heartbeats or nervous stomach, but a sense of calm. He made me feel safe, and being his boyfriend was an anchor to that safety. We’d been spending so much time together that I felt more at home when I was with Gordo and Giuliana than when I was alone at my house. It was strange and wonderful. But…

“So Dane texted me last night about going to the bar,” I said. “But I t-told him I already had plans with you. He s-sort of ragged at me for spending all of my t-time with you.”

“We have become one of those couples, haven’t we? The ones that fall so hard into a relationship, we ignore everyone?” Gordo frowned. “You shouldn’t be so much fun to spend time with.”

“I will try to be more of an asshole. But I was also thinking we could have a party? We could invite everyone. Unless parties are s-still a sore spot for you.” I shot him a wry smile and winked.

Gordo’s laugh burst from him like a gift. “Definitely still a sore spot. I don’t want to have to call Mason to ticket you for a noise ordinance. But what about a cookout? It’s not unbearably hot anymore outside, and there’s a ton of room in our backyard. You could invite

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