“The state, yes…” He pointed to the cursive script underneath it. “Your full name, no…”

I blushed. “I got drunk in France one night when I was crying over you, and I went into a tattoo bar by myself…I must’ve really been talking shit about you, because the technician misinterpreted what I wanted.” I lifted my right arm, showing off the small spot next to my breast where a cursive “Sincerely, Carter” was etched into my skin.

Smiling, Carter traced it with his fingertips. “I love this…Are there any more questions?”

“Yes…I have one more.”

“Okay.” He gripped my hips, and positioned me over his cock. Then he slowly sucked one of my nipples into his mouth. “I’m listening…”

“In your last letter to me, you said you’d loved me since fourth grade…Not fifth grade like you normally try to assert…Do you really think that, timeline-wise, or did you just say that because you knew that would get to me and make me cry?”

“Arizona Turner…” He slowly pulled me down against him—filling me inch by inch, making me moan as he swirled his tongue against my chest. When he was completely inside of me, he held me still and looked into my eyes. “For the record, and the very last time…” He drew my bottom lip into his mouth. “I hated you in fourth grade—absolutely fucking hated you…”

I moaned as he caressed my back with his palms.

“For the first semester anyway…” he whispered. “I did like you a lot more when we became friends. I liked you a lot…But after looking back, yes, I promise that I loved you then…” He slowly let go of my bottom lip. “I love you now.” He kissed my lips until I was utterly breathless. “And I always will…”

**THE END**