Page 46 of Scarlet Angel

A lone tear slips down my cheek, and I swipe it away quickly, surprised by my own vulnerability.

“I like your tat.” His voice is low, miraculously both rough and syrupy.

I aim for a mild acquiescence, but what comes out is another mottled moan. I hadn’t realized how tight and sore my muscles were. More than that, I hadn’t realized how deeply I’d buried my need for human contact. His fingers spin magic, awakening sensations I thought I’d forgotten how to feel.

“Angel wings? What’s the meaning?”

Tattoos don’t have to have meaning. Mine cover scars, but I was thoughtful when I chose my body art. “The wings remind me this isn’t the end game.”

He digs into a tight knot, and my spine curves into the pain.

“When I close my eyes, with a little effort, I feel myself flying high above an ephemeral planet. I suppose that’s another reason I chose wings. It’s a reminder that I can close my eyes and travel anywhere.”

Another tear escapes.

“Am I hurting you?”

He must think I’m such a freak. “No, it’s just…”

“Does touch frighten you?”

“I’m not scared.” My muscles tighten as my spine straightens. He removes his hands, and…that’s not what I want. It’s not what I need either. Dr. Atherton’s kind, wrinkled face flits before my mind’s eye. A brave soul. She met with me for years, knowing someone from the mafia might knock on her door.

I exhale, swallow, and admit, “It’s the first time someone has touched me in years. There’s just… It’s my body’s physical reaction. I am not afraid.”

“Hmm.” He shifts. “Lie down. Flat on your belly.”

Is that wise?

I close my eyes to quell the torrent of tears threatening to swell. I haven’t cried in years, and I’m not sad. It must be the bourbon.

It’s not the bourbon. It’s your body’s reaction. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.

Dr. Atherton’s kind words reverberate deep within. Nick’s palm warms my shoulder blade, and I settle into his suggestion and arrange myself flat on the sofa. He sits on the edge, and I close my eyes as he kneads my spine.

His fingers span my sides, and I inhale, expanding my rib cage and clearing my mind.

Warmth accompanies the pressure, and my core tightens as my muscles release. Needs and desires stir, and I force those sensations away, pushing everything out of my mind until my skull is a void.

His palm warms my buttock, over my clothes, but the intimate placement snaps me out of my meditative trance.

“I can do more for you.”

My thigh muscles tense as my pulse quickens.

“No…” I breathe out, blinking my way back to the room. “You’ve done plenty. Thank you.” I’m too weak and spent to lift my head, but add, “That felt amazing.”

“Anytime, angel.” I sense his presence hovering over me, and my eyelids open in time to see him descending. His lips brush my forehead for the briefest second, and he departs.

CHAPTER11

NICK

The faint line along her luscious lips speaks of a split lip. The angel wings cover what looks to be a burn scar. I’d wager the Milky Way tattoo on her arm covers another brutal attack. There’s a thin scar near her ear along her jaw I suppose is from surgery. The line is clean.

When I first met her, I’d seen an eye-catching lady who stood out among a sea of middling villagers. Fiery red strands and captivating green eyes set off by creamy, porcelain skin. My field of vision centered on her, and the periphery blurred.

Leo is one lucky bastard.

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