AN:I haven't touched this story in awhile, but I'm coming back to it again. I hope you'll let me know what you think. I love reading the comments. FYI, this chapter is MA.

Chapter 3

The rain fell in sheets. Lightening flashed and thunder boomed. The storm was in full swing.

Bunker stood in the bathroom drying off after his cold shower. It was the only thing he could think to do to try and calm down. Even after making it home, Bunker was still filled with rage. He had trouble pinpointing what pissed him off the most, but was fairly certain it was how Asshole-Number-One and Two spoke to Cora. He was used to people treating him the way they did, but insulting her was a step too far. It was the White Knight in him, he guessed.

When he caught sight of his reflection, Bunker's stomach fell. He sighed heavily as he looked at his tattoos. He'd been hesitant to agree to go out with Cora for good reasons, and they were painted across his torso down his arms, on his neck, hands, and even his face. It wasn't one indiscretion, it was dozens. Bunker knew that no matter where they went, someone would end up staring and saying something.

Perhaps what bothered him the most was the embarrassment? He didn't like when his bad decisions affected those around him.

As he pulled on a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants, there was a knock on his door. Bunker's eyes narrowed. No one knew where he lived -not really at least- and those who did weren't people he wanted to deal with.

Moving hesitantly, Bunker headed for the front door. He grabbed a zip-up sweatshirt on the way and slid it on. There was a small chance whoever was on the other side was just someone normal and he didn't want them to see his bevy of tattoos. He made sure the zipper covered the most offensive bits just as another trio of knocks sounded against the thin wooden slab.

Bunker unlatched his locks and opened the door. He couldn't hide his surprise. Cora simply stood on his porch as the rain continued to pour behind her, half-drowned in appearance, and waiting for an invitation inside.

"Hello, again," she greeted.

"What are you doing here?"

"Becoming increasingly wet, at the moment." She teased lightly.

"Sorry,"

Bunker stepped aside and motioned for her to come in. Cora said her thanks as she moved into his living room. Bunker closed the door and turned as she gently fluffed her hair as best she could. It still hung in tendrils, but it was no longer slicked to her head.

"How do you know where I live?" he asked.

Cora turned to face him. She shifted on her feet slightly.

"Your boss told me." She admitted. "Did you know he lives right by the Forge?"

"No, he didn't mention it." Bunker replied. "Was he there?"

"Yeah," she nodded and smiled slightly when she noticed him move uncomfortably. "He didn't care. He came up after you left." Cora dug into her bag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "I figured we could have a real drink."

He smiled softly. Cora shared the sentiment, but it slowly faded.

"Why did you leave like that?" she asked apprehensively. "Because of those guys?" He looked away and began to clench his fists at the thought of them. "They were just a couple of assholes."

"They were right," he said quickly. "About me. We shouldn't have gone out. It was a bad idea."

She glowered before she could stop herself. Cora didn't like that Bunker took was some hillbilly assholes said to heart. But as she looked at him –ready to say something about it- she noticed color peeking out from beneath his sweatshirt. Her expression fell. She'd never seen so much of his skin before, and even now it was just a hint of his chest. Even though he'd worn a wife-beater during the Red Bones incident, she had other things to worry about. Ogling some guy wasn't high on the list at the time.

Bunker noticed her face turn blank and realized quickly what she saw. He didn't hesitate to zip it up the rest of the way to hide the colored marks, but she'd already seen them.

He did his best to avoid her eye. He knew she'd judge him like others did, and he didn't want to see that reflected back at him right now. But she didn't. Instead, she slipped the bottle of liquor back into her bag and slid it off her shoulder. She set it down on her walk closer to him. Bunker didn't look up until he noticed how close she was.

Cora reached out and took the zipper into her hands. Bunker's brows came together tightly. He didn't know what she was about to do and it made him nervous.

When he heard the sound of the zipper moving and felt her tug on his sweatshirt, he realized what was happening. Bunker tried to stop her, but Cora batted his hands away and continued to unzip his jacket. Feeling a pit of shame grow in his gut, he did his best to look away and avoid her inevitable disgust.

"Tattoos," she said softly. "Are like scars." Cora continued to unzip his jacket, slowly revealing the massive swastika in the middle of his chest. "Sometimes, they're memories we want to have. They remind us of a better time, maybe something happy." She reached the base of his jacket and gently pulled it open to reveal the entirety of what he tried to keep hidden. "And sometimes," Bunker twitched when he felt her touch him. Cora didn't notice. "Sometimes, they remind us of things we never want to think of again."

Her fingernails tenderly danced along his colored skin, weaving through the designs and along lettering. Bunker watched intently. He expected to see her anger, revulsion, or something from the bevy of emotions he'd grown accustomed to, but he didn't. Cora only looked on curiously, and with a hint of sympathy, like she knew how much he hated them.

Cora's eyes stayed with her hands as she continued to touch him. Her fingers glided over his skin, sank between the dips in his well-formed muscles and noticed him twitch lightly when she had. It made her stomach flutter.

Gently, Cora pressed her open palms against his chest. She waited briefly for him to tell her to leave, or say she was overstepping, but he remained as silent as her. His skin burned as she guided her hands upward. He felt like fire.

"They're apart of us," she continued. Her delicate touch radiated through him. Cora finally met his eyes. "Whether we like it or not," her hands curled under his jacket and over his shoulders. "They'll always be apart of us. So we have to learn to live with them," Cora pushed the jacket off his shoulders. It fell easily to the ground under its own weight. Bunker didn't put up a fight to keep it on. He was too enthralled in the feeling of her hands. "And find someone that sees past them."

His lips parted as he stared down at her with relief. To her, his tattoos were just that. They weren't a declaration of his beliefs, or the way he saw the world. She saw them for what they were: a mistake.

Consumed by the rare spell of respite he felt, Bunker dipped down and claimed her lips before either of them could think better of it. He threaded his fingers through her hair, gently held the side of her head, and kissed her for a moment before eventually drawing back. Bunker looked into her heavy-lidded eyes for any indication on how to proceed. The way she looked up at him was enough.

He kissed her again and she happily reciprocated. Cora cooed softly when he pulled her close and pressed his body to hers. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight. Bunker grunted lightly when he felt her fingernails bite into his skin, but didn't stop it.

It didn't take long for an underlining passion to make it to the foreground. Bunker began to peel her leather jacket from her shoulders. When she was free of the obstruction, he bent down, wrapped his massive hands around her, and lifted her into the air. Cora's legs laced around his waist on instinct and their lips parted. She smiled down at him as he carried her into the bedroom only a few steps away.

When he felt the edge of the bed hit his knees, he turned and sat versus lying on top of her. She straddled him easily. Bunker reached for the hem of her shirt and began to pull it off. She turned this way and that to help him. The moment the fabric was clear of her chest, Bunker bit down onto the soft flesh. Cora gasped and quickly shed herself of the garment the rest of the way. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him close while he kissed and nipped at her skin.

His hands snaked up her back. With nimble fingers, Bunker stripped Cora of her bra and didn't hesitate to claim what was freed. He dipped down just enough claim her silver nipple ring between his teeth. Her grip in his hair tightened and sent shivers down his spine. Cora leaned back just enough he could continue to explore, and she wasn't disappointed.

When his lips reached her neck again, Bunker spun them. She giggled lightly when she felt him press her back into the bed. He heard the sound, but it barely registered. He just wanted more, and so did she.

Their heated movements soon became frantic. They only wanted to strip the other of as much cumbersome clothing as possible to get what they wanted, to feel the heat of someone else pressed against them. Cora wouldn't admit it out loud, but it had been longer than she would have liked since she'd been with someone, and that fact was contributing greatly to her erratic movements. What she didn't know was Bunker felt the same. Like with most things, his tattoos kept him from getting close to anyone and sex was one of those things that unfortunately fell to the wayside. But now… now they had someone to help slate the growing desire.

Cora began to undo the buttons of her jeans while she kissed the man above her. Bunker felt what she was doing and gladly helped. He pulled back and peeled the garment away as well as the damp denim would allow, jerking her boots off in the process. Bunker was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't notice something she expected him to remark on. Cora felt an immediate relief when he crawled up the bed to her yet again and reclaimed her lips.

Bunker pawed at her skin, caressed and touched everything he could as his hand slid down her side. The moment he felt the lace of her panties, he gripped and pulled. The thin fabric tore easily under his strength. She gasped when she felt it, but did nothing more than wrap her legs around his waist. Bunker shoved at his sweatpants and didn't hesitate to push himself into her.

Cora cried out at the sudden intrusion. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders and held him tight as she breathed. Bunker buried his nose in the nape of her neck. He tried to steady his swimming head while listening to her panting softly in his ear. Eventually, after longer than he realized, he began to move. Her grip tightened.

She gasped and moaned each time he thrust. Her legs tensed around his hips, and her fingernails continued to dig into his shoulder. Bunker propped himself up on one elbow while the fingers of his other hand twisted themselves within her hair.

Her body pulsed with his heartbeat. He was all encompassing. Bunker was a larger man than she expected and she had trouble catching her breath because of it. But she reveled in it regardless. Still, he was moving at a staggeringly slow pace, and it did nothing more than stoke her internal fires. She needed them slated. She needed him to cure the lust he'd sparked.

When it became clear Bunker couldn't muster more than a slow, but steady pace, Cora decided it was her turn. Moving her grip on his body, Cora threw herself against him and spun the two until it was Bunker's back against the bed. He seemed surprised by the action, but said nothing against it.

Slowly, Cora rose. She pressed her hands gently against his stomach as she sat upright. Their gazes never left one another's until she sat up completely. Cora's eyes drifted shut and her mouth fell lax when he was immersed in her completely. A soft gasp left her lips.

Bunker watched her eyes drift shut and reveled in it. It was something men enjoyed seeing no matter who they were. His grip on her hips tightened as he massaged the skin gently. Eventually, Cora was able to pry her heavy lids open so she could see the man beneath her. He bore the same euphoric expression she knew touched her face. Gradually, Cora began to move.

It was slow at first, but only at first. She didn't want to hurt him considering the newness of his gunshot wound, but she couldn't help herself. When she felt herself become as accustomed to him as much as she assumed she would, Cora's actions grew in strength. She ground herself into him and delighted when she saw his eyes flutter shut. It spurred her actions. Soon, the grinding grew more intense to the point she started bouncing on his lap. Cora gasped and moaned and dug her fingers into his lower stomach while Bunker held onto her hips tightly, guiding her and meeting her with each thrust. It didn't take long for them to gain not only strength, but speed.

Cora moaned loudly with each thrust, Bunker groaned from deep in his throat, and both knew it wouldn't be long before either of them was going to reach the end. After only a moment or two of being in control, Cora felt her body ignite. The fires within exploded and sent shockwaves through her. Her fingernails dug sharply into Bunker's skin and her head flew back as she cried out. She trembled and shook as she rode the waves of euphoria that ran rampant through her.

As her climax began to saturate her and the control she had over her own body waned, Bunker realized she was losing intensity. He had to act. He was so close and had to finish.

Still holding her tightly, Bunker sat up and wrapped his arms around her body. She clung limply to his shoulders while he rocked the pair of them. It was all he needed to finally succumb to her. Bunker hugged her to his body as he plummeted over the edge to his own end. He growled deeply in his throat and buried his face in her hair.

Slowly, their movements ceased, and their hearts calmed. Cora's breathes turned into soft whimpers while Bunker continued to pant into her hair. Eventually, she pulled back and looked into his tired face. She was relieved he looked as exhausted as she did.

Bunker reached up with one of his hands and threaded a few stray pieces of her hair around his fingers. He gently pushed them back, guiding them behind her ear before kissing her softly. Cora cooed into his lips and gladly returned the affection. When they parted, it wasn't far. Bunker let his forehead fall against hers.

As they rested and let their wits come back, Bunker felt something strange touching his thigh. He shifted himself enough to look down and realized it was what was left of her panties still clinging uselessly to the only leg he hadn't torn them from. With a smile, he gripped them again and began to tug them away. When there was a bit of space between their bodies, Bunker noticed something he was amazed he'd missed before.

His brows came together at the sight of it. Tentatively, he reached for the surprising sight. The moment he touched it, his eyes met hers. Bunker was taken aback to see a hint of shame as she avoided meeting his gaze for a moment or two.

"You're not the only one with scars." She told him softly.

He wasn't sure what to say or if he had the right to say anything at all. Instead, Bunker leaned forward and kissed her again. It was just enough to spur the embers in their guts that hadn't quite died.

Neither knew how long had passed before their bodies simply gave out. They just didn't have the energy to continue, and both were content to lay in relative silence while they rested.

Bunker was lying on his back with a pillow and his right arm propped under his head to keep it up. Cora was lying on her stomach beside him with her face half buried in a pillow. She was looking at him staring back at her. Both of them were tinted rose from their exertion and glistening with just a hint of sweat. It had been an impressive workout. She felt her lips curl into a smile as she stared at Bunker as innocently as she could manage. He returned the sentiment until his eyes caught sight of the scars on her body. His smile faltered and she noticed.

Cora glanced over her shoulder to see what he was looking at. Seeing them, even so long after she'd gotten them, caused her gut to turn just a bit. Deciding she might as well get it out into the open, Cora rolled onto her right side so he could see them in their entirety.

Scars dotted the left side of her body from her ribcage to the middle of her thigh. They were gashes in style, but more than that. There looked to be burns mixed in. Bunker didn't know how to describe what he saw. It just looked like something very hot had exploded against her skin. Roughly twenty percent of her body was scarred, all of it draping along her side.

He wanted to ask her about it, but didn't. He figured if she chose to say anything she would, so he said nothing.

In the silence, Cora noticed the clock on the end table. It flashed 12:00 which made her muse to herself. Either Bunker never set it, or the flickering lights an hour or so ago was enough to knock the power out, so she got up and crawled across the bed. Cora groaned at the soreness already taking hold, but ignored it in favor of finding her jeans dangling near the foot of the bed. She searched through her pockets and found her phone.

"I should go." She said when she spotted the time. It was three in the morning.

Bunker said nothing. He sat back comfortably and watched as Cora slid from his bed and began to pull on her clothes. It was tricky considering most of her clothes were still damp, but she managed.

When she had on her jeans and bra, Cora returned to Bunker's side. He was lying on his back with a minimal amount of his sheets covering himself. The sight made her cock a brow and smile. It was a delicious scene, she had to admit.

Cora crawled up the length of him and smiled at the man beneath her.

"You owe me a new pair of panties." She told him with a smile. Bunker chuckled before reaching up and threading his fingers through her hair. He pulled her down into another kiss which she happily returned. When they parted, she nipped lightly at his bottom lip. "I'll see you again."

She turned and left with a smile on her lips, snatching her shirt up from the floor on the way. Bunker meant to stand and walk her out, but he heard his door open then close before he had the chance.

His eyes instinctively fell to the blank spot on the bed beside him where she once laid. Balled up was a pair of bright blue panties, torn and useless. It was the only thing she left behind. He chuckled to himself.