“You don’t have to wash my clothes, Doll. I can do it when you’re finished.” Tripp says looking over at me.

God, he’s hot. His tan skin, the dragon tattoo that wraps around his back and both his sides, they’re all screaming out to me. The dragon’s head comes up facing the eagle over his chest. The body coming across his back as the tail climbs up his ribs on the other side. The dragon’s body wraps under his Hellions insignia back-piece. The eagle’s talon holds his heart and shield directly over his heart, but its large face and body come over his chest and shoulder. The intricate details leave a fierce look to the eagle’s eyes. It’s a look that draws me in. The longer I stare, the more I feel I’m drowning in the very being of Talon ‘Tripp’ Crews. Unable to take my eyes off him, I take in the tribal design covering his right shoulder and going all the way down his arm. Every piece is interwoven together, all protecting him in some way. Why, in all this time together, have I not taken the time to absorb the many details of the ink covering this sexy man? His left arm is covered in chains that are broken in places. The first broken place holds a baby rattle up by the eagle’s beak on his shoulder, the second broken place holds a pocket watch on his bicep, the third broken piece holds a heart with an arrow through it on his fore arm, and the final broken piece comes to the top of his wrist with a coffin.

Lost in my thoughts and taking in the details, I don’t take in what Tripp is saying as he once again tells me not to do his laundry. He gets up and walks over to me. His pants hanging low, show the words that adorn each side of the ‘v’ that is the joint of his legs and hips. His right side says ‘take chances’ with the left saying ‘no hesitations’. The words catch me off guard. Before I realize it, Tripp’s in front of me, his hands on my hips. I shudder at his touch.

“Doll, about the hallway...with Carmine…I’m a jackass.” His eyes look directly at me as I gaze up to meet his stare. They hide his many emotions, and I wish I knew what was really going on in his head.

“Tripp, it’s okay. I overreacted. We had a good time. We’re not in a relationship. You’re free to do what you want.” I manage to get out in a whisper.

“Are we good? Friends?” He asks.

“Friends.” I confirm with a small smile.

He backs away and goes back to the small couch. We spend the evening chatting like old friends. He tells me about being a kid and going hunting with his grandpa and Rex. He never mentions his mom or dad, but talks about his grandma and Aunt Jolene. Before we realize it, we’re both yawning and trying to stay awake, as it’s after midnight. Going over to the bed, I climb in. Tripp is way too tall to fit comfortably on the couch.