Page 31 of Erik

She pauses for a beat, then shrugs. “Never cared.”

I wrap my fingers around her wrists in a firmer grip when she tries to unbutton the shirt again. I knit my eyebrows when the pads of my thumbs press ragged skin. Through the haze of desire, I recognize the welts as scar tissue.

I turn her wrists upward and hold my breath. My stomach plunges as I rub the thick lines marking spots where she’s slit herself.

I murmur, “When?”

With eyes round as dishes, she replies, “Many years ago.”

Maybe she does see behind my mask better than anyone, more than I’d suspected. I bend, pressing feathery kisses on the blanched patches of skin. Her lips kiss my hair and forehead.

I whisper against her wrists, “I’ve never done this without those documents signed. Since I’ve met you, I’ve had a lot of firsts.” Squaring my shoulders, I raise my hands in surrender. “Do your worst.”

She grins, “Challenge accepted.”

Christine rips my shirt open, scattering buttons, along with my defenses. Raspy gasps escape her parted lips. Her eyes widen as they follow the strings of scar tissue that cover my chest, back, and shoulders.

“I knew it.” She brushes her thumbs along my cheekbones, my lips. “You wear a badass attitude to mask your fragility.”

The verses of her song come to mind. With a pang in my guts, I ask, “How did you guess?”

“It takes one to know one. Plus, I hear tears in your voice when you sing.” She trails open-mouthed kisses over the scars, from my nipples to a corded line on my navel. “You’re perfect.”

My heart forgets to beat at the possibilities her tone opens up for me.

I nibble her earlobe. “Thought you wanted flawed,” I remind her of what she told me last night.

“You’re perfectly flawed.”

The twinkle in her eyes enthralls. No NDA can protect my heart from her spell.

13

Christine

Islip to the floor, kneel between his legs, and glide a finger from his nose to his sternum. The wake of goosebumps fascinates me. With fingertips, I caress his scars as if they were the most fragile hummingbirds. “If only you could see yourself through my eyes.” After planting kisses down his chest to a corded line under his belly button, I gaze up. “Mouthwatering view from here.”

When I skim my hands up his chest, tweaking his nipples, he throws his head back. I close my teeth around the zipper on his black slacks, and he sits up straight.

A haunted stare bores into mine, long fingers dig into my biceps. “You don’t get it. I’m broken beyond repair.” His eyes roam my face and pause on my wrists. “Despite your grief, you remained bright as the sun. You dwell in light. I thrive in darkness.”

“That’s not true.” I shake my head until the curls in the makeshift bun on top of my head cascade over my shoulders and down my back. “Give me one chance to show you that your marked skin speaks of your sorrows, not your soul.”

I trail his scars again, smiling into his tortured gaze. My heart shrinks and I sigh. His magnetism becomes tangible, it grows in strength until all I want to do is succumb. The air shifts around us, crackles with sexual tension. When my hands reach his shoulders and I cup them, his protective walls burst to unveil vulnerability. His piercing eyes bare my soul.

We still for a heartbeat before he swoops down to claim my mouth. Moaning against his lips, I part mine to invite him in. I suck on his tongue and scrape his scalp. He nibbles a throbbing vein on my neck, inhaling my scent.

My pulse leaps. I surrender to his music. The song his ragged breathing sings in my head.

When he draws back, I kiss his stubbled square jaw, move down his neck. Heartbeat spikes, stealing my breath away, when I find a thick vein pulsing. I lick the spot and his hips thrust upward.

He kneads my back with splayed fingers, from my butt to my shoulders. As if in slow motion, he pulls me into a tight embrace. I rub myself on his erection, sending shockwaves up my body, matched by his gasps. We fuse our lips together in another passion-fueling kiss. His hands grip my flesh, then smooth it. My tongue traces the inside of his lips in a sultry tease.

When we pause to draw in panting breaths, I take in his tousled hair, swollen lips, and rumpled outfit. With a wily grin, I groan, “You’re overdressed.”

When I fumble with the stubborn zipper of his slacks, his fingers cover mine, sliding the metal down. He wiggles out of the slacks and underwear, kicking them away. His thick erection juts up and a jolt of electricity travels through me in anticipation. I strip him of the buttonless shirt, tossing it over my shoulder. Still in my bra, I press myself against his bare chest, air catches at my throat. I sizzle with the charged touch of skin on skin.

He moans when I roll a nipple between my teeth, flicking the tight nub with my tongue, and scraping the other with my nails. He sinks into the couch cushions, and I smile against his scars before dragging wet lips down his jagged belly.

---