Page 76 of Black Roses

“Are you okay?” I ask, searching her eyes for answers. After all, she just tore open all her wounds and bared her soul to me.

Her eyes narrow as she ponders the question. “I think I am. Is that crazy?” Her burgeoning smile warms not only my heart, but other parts of my anatomy.

“No. It’s not crazy at all. Talking helps. Believe me. And I’m here anytime you want to talk about it. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got some pretty big shoulders you can use for crying on whenever you need them.”

Her smile falls and my budding erection threatens to abate. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to see me as a woman, like you did last weekend, and not the girl on that bed?”

Suddenly, I have visions of Saturday night. Of her writhing under my tongue, pawing at my sheets as she watched me bring her to orgasm. I drop her hand and stand up at the side of the bed, pulling down my pants and boxer briefs in one fell swoop, my hardened dick springing proudly when it’s released from its confines. “I don’t think that will ever be a problem, sweetheart.”

Her eyes go wide at the sight of me. Not in fear. Not in panic. But in appreciation; passion. And it’s damn sexy.

Her hand twitches as if she wants to reach out and touch me. My dick jumps at the very thought of her hand gripping me. But then as quickly as my hopes were raised, they are dashed.

“I can’t,” she says.

I nod. Of course she isn’t ready for this. She needs time. I berate myself, reaching down to pull my pants up, but her words stop me dead.

“I just ran fifteen miles. I need a shower.” Her heated gaze skates over my chest, then lower.

Holy shit.

The way she said it. It wasn’t a blow-off or an excuse. It was an invitation.

“I could use one myself,” I say, stepping out of my shoes and pulling off my pants. “I haven’t showered since Monday. What day is it?”

She laughs. “Wednesday.”

I look to the bathroom and then I raise my eyebrows at her. Her teeth grasp the edge of her bottom lip, causing even more of my blood to run south. A slow smile tugs her lips upward. “I’ve never had any bad dreams about showers,” she says. “Just like I never had them about kissing.”

I smile and it feels as if my face could crack open. “And look how good you are at kissing.” I take two steps over to her and hold out my hand.

She looks at it with dark and lidded eyes, her lips twitching into a shy yet sensual grin.

My heart all but leaps from my chest.

I pull her into the bathroom and turn on the shower. It’s nice. It’s got several nozzles including one of those rain showerheads on the ceiling. As it warms, I slowly remove her running shorts and tank top, peeling them off her body to reveal inch after beautiful inch.

It’s bright in here. Daylight is shining through the window and strong fluorescents are overhead. I notice very faint white lines on both sides of her stomach. I fall to my knees and place my lips on them, tasting her salty flesh. I show her I love every part of her, even those parts she thinks are damaged.

I have damaged parts, too. Maybe together, if we add up all of our good parts, we can make one whole unblemished person.

She runs her hands through my hair as my mouth devours the intoxicating scent that clings to her skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see steam coming from the shower, so I stand and walk her backwards into it until her back hits the wall.

Water pours over her, wetting her hair and running down to stream off her breasts. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

My lips claim hers in a wet, demanding kiss that spawns provocative noises from her. We kiss long and hard, exploring each other with our tongues and mouths until we can no longer breathe, our lungs burning from the lack of air.

While my hands probe her breasts, hers grip the back of my hair, tilting my head back so her lips can assault my neck. She stops wandering when she finds my pulse, sucking the fleshy skin of my neck into her mouth. My dick throbs against her and I worry it will cause her to panic. Instead, she surprises me, reaching between us, gripping me with her small hand, running her fingers along the sensitive head, driving me absolutely fucking insane.

Everywhere she touches me, electrical currents pulse beneath my skin. Her hand slowly moves from root to tip and my body aches with the need for release.

My fingers trail down her water-slicked stomach, down through her soft curls to find the hot wet heat of her center before slipping inside her. Her breath catches somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

I don’t have to remind her to look at me. Our eyes meet with a force that sends shockwaves through our bodies, her hunger and passion matching my own. The base of my spine tingles as my body is battered by sensation after sensation. I bite down on my lip, tasting the blood that results from an endeavor to hold off my inevitable finish. This isn’t about me. This is about giving her a memory that can overshadow the nightmares. I pull back, my steely erection falling from her soft, wet hands as I try to even out my breathing.

“Do you have a condom?” she asks, her eyes raking my body with a heat so intense it practically melts me.

Shit. Those five words almost make me come on the spot.Hell yes, I do.

---