Page 85 of Scar

Impatience got the better of him, and he met her halfway. She halted directly in front of him and that little smile grew. Her face was tipped up at him, just slightly off center. She was wearing a pair of brown eyes today.

Their hands met first, both shaking with anticipation and nerves. Her skin was so warm, but it didn’t burn. Like his, her hands were calloused, a mark of her dedication to her trade. As one, their hands moved upwards, going from palm to wrist and then wrist to forearm.

He marveled at the feel of her delicate flesh. He’d been prepared to burn for her, just to know the touch of her skin. Yet the tingle he felt held no pain, no bite. It burned, yes, but in a way that made him cravemoreof her.

Scar stepped closer, their hands reaching for each other’s biceps. No words passed between them, but then, no words needed to be said. Their declaration was in the tips of their fingers, the very breath between them.

Tally stepped closer, their hands grazing the sides of each other’s neck. He knew the moment she felt the scars that marred him. Her happiness waned slightly, her chin trembling as her sensitive fingers traced the ridged lines once more.

He saw a tear escape her right eye and lifted his hand to catch the drop on the edge of his forefinger before it crested onto her silky skin. She had the longest eyelashes. He liked that she wore no makeup; he wanted to seeher, not a painted version.

Tally raised her chin slightly, as if seeking his finger. Scar’s hand shook as he rested his palm against her soft cheek. Tally turned into the cup of his hand, nuzzling against his rough flesh. Lifting her own hand, she touched the back of his, securing his hand to her face.

Her other hand, her right hand, lifted to his left cheek. His heart thundered wildly as her fingers trailed down the permanent path etched into his skin. From his temple, past his eye, down his cheek, over his lips, and ending at his stubbled chin.

Scar shuddered, trembling at the unfamiliar sensation that was Tally’s hand on his face.

He was under no delusions that he was cured. He had no wish to touch or be touched by anyone else. This was her,Tally. His Tally. He burned at her touch, but withdesirerather than pain. It had been so long since he’d felt even a modicum of passion that it nearly brought him to his knees.

Tally’s hand wandered into his hair, and damn, if Scar didn’t have a moment of embarrassment, knowing he hadn’t showered since the morning he’d been taken from her apartment after destroying Gordon Tremont’s pathetic existence.

Hating the distance between them, Scar bowed his head over hers. Their foreheads met, smooth flesh to smooth flesh. He closed his eyes, shutting out the world. He knew their audience was watching in stunned silence, but he also knew neither of them cared. This moment was theirs and theirs alone.

Their noses rubbed together. It was almost playful, and yet so intimate that Scar couldn’t help but do it again.

Oh, how he burned for this courageous, sensual, strong woman.

And when their lips finally touched, a possessive need overtook him and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Tally Meacham was his. He was never letting her go.

In her arms, under the touch of her hands, Scar knew he was just as incomplete, just as ruined, as he had been yesterday. Broken could be fixed, but Scar didn’t need to be fixed, because Tally accepted and wanted him just as he was.

Flawed, scarred, and entirely hers.

CHAPTER20

They were alone. Scar was so enthralled by Tally that he hadn’t even noticed the others depart. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he preferred it. No doubt the others were as shocked as he was that he was touching Tally, and possibly more surprising, that he was allowing her to touch him.

For a long time after their kiss, they simply stood in the center of the clubhouse, their arms wrapped around each other. Scar’s left cheek leaned against her temple, her head tucked under his chin. Her hair smelled of coconuts and vanilla.

Unfortunately, Scar’s strength started to wane. He would have been content to stand there for eternity, but Tally likely felt his body begin to sag against hers.

Without a word, Tally stepped back, grabbing his hand. She led him over to the seating area, claiming a loveseat for the two of them. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that it felt really good to sit down.

Tally tucked her leg under her ass, leaning her shoulder against the back of the couch as she faced him. Not liking the distance between them in their new position, Scar tucked his arm around her waist. His hand splayed open on her lower back. When she shifted forward to lean into his side, her shirt pulled up and he shuddered at the feel of her bare skin. Tally draped herself over his chest, her arms encircling his torso.

Heat flared inside him, but Scar welcomed the burn. Closing his eyes, he rested the back of his head against the soft cushion.

“I have so many questions for you, and I’m sure you have a lot, too.” Her voice was low, but more than a whisper. “I’ve been so worried and scared. I feel like I’m breathing for the first time since you collapsed to my floor.”

Scar’s arm constricted around her waist a little. Like she knew the action signified he felt the same way, he felt her lips twitch against his left pectoral through his shirt. What would it be like to hold her like this without any barriers? Was he ready for such intimacy?

It had been a lot of years since Scar had been close to a woman. He’d had girlfriends, but nothing serious. He doubted any of them would even recognize him now and he knew none would dare to let him touch her as he once had. The idea of being with a woman did nothing for Scar. He knew he wasn’t impotent because he got the occasional erection over the years, but he’d both mentally and physically refused to acknowledge the reaction.

Eventually, it went away.

The idea of being withTally,though? Of touching every inch of her milk chocolate skin, exploring and learning every facet of her body, of laying claim to her person in the most primal of ways…?

Scar’s eyes flew open, and he found himself looking around Tally’s dark hair and down his torso to his black cargo pants that were now tenting. Well,damn.

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