Page 54 of I Blame the Rival

Skylar won’t hurt me.

Repeating the mantra over and over, I reach for my last shred of courage and give him a nod.

“Go ahead.”

Skylar

I want his name and social security number.

Seeing the fear fill Lacey’s eyes when she lay back on my bed was enough to make me want to break something. Even now, I can feel the rage curdling my blood as I look at her, fidgeting nervously while she waits for me to touch her.

My flower thinks I’m going to hurt her.

The thought puts a lump in my throat and I have to flex my fingers against the comforter to keep them from reaching for a pen. The pressure in my chest is uncomfortable, but notunbearable, so I force the anger aside and focus my attention on the petrified girl lying next to me.

A part of me wants to call this whole thing off and drive Lacey home so she can think about what she wants, but the other part of me is dying to touch her. Having her legs wrapped around me in the bookstore earlier today filled my head with too many ideas, graphic ideas that no respectable man should have.

My hands twitch again, but this time it’s not for a need to draw.

I want to trace every inch of her body. No amount of artistic talent would ever do her justice, but I want to try. I want to study every divot and dimple, discover every freckle and mole and paint them with my lips. I want to find out what makes her shudder and what makes her scream. And then I want to do it all again and capture it through ink on a page.

But more than that, I want to see Lacey comfortable around me. See her let down her guard until I can strip off her insecurities and help her forget her past for a little while.

Swallowing the lustful thoughts racing through my head, I slowly reach out and touch her shoulder. She flinches but doesn’t move away.

I fucking hate the guy who did this to her.

It’s hard to focus when I can see Lacey watching me with fearful eyes. I can tell she’s fighting the urge to run away from the restless way her eyes keep dancing around my bedroom.

“Flower.” I wait until her eyes land back on mine, “You can tell me to stop anytime. We won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with, okay?”

She starts blinking rapidly and the sight has my heart breaking.

“Okay.”

I lean forward and kiss her, if only to have an excuse not to see her cry. I don’t mind when she sheds tears talking about her past, but seeing her eyes well up at the most basic display of kindness just about destroys me.

Lacey kisses me back softly, her hands coming up to stroke my face. I breathe her in, letting the kiss ease the tension from her body before I trail my hand down her arm. Wrapping my fingers around her own, I give her an anchor to hold on to as my other hand brushes her collarbone.

She lets out a gasp and I break away so we can watch my fingers trace the delicate juts of skin before drifting lower. Her back arches when I reach her breasts, silently encouraging me to cop a feel.

The material of her fleece sweater is surprisingly thin as I run my fingers up over the pad of her bra and press down. A groan escapes me when I feel the sharp peak of her nipple, my dick thickening against the zipper of my jeans.

“Are you okay?” Lacey starts to giggle.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

She laughs for real this time, throwing her head back and exposing her throat.

“I think you haveharderthings to worry about.”

I shake my head with a smile, “You’re a menace.”

“Maybe.” Lacey’s emerald eyes sparkle at me, and all I can do is stare back, trying in vain to capture this moment.

“Are you doing okay?”

She nods, “It was scary at first but now it’s not so bad.”

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