Page 171 of Beat of Love
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Best drug ever
Brandy-Lyn watched Rafferty storm across the room rubbing at his chest, her best-sex-everbliss vaporized by the sudden change in him. Within a heartbeat he’d gone from relaxed to rigid.
And that look on his face — pure panic.
She rolled off the bed, found her flannel top, and slipped it on, fastening a button as she walked to the bathroom. Pausing in the open doorway, she took a moment to absorb the sight of the man bowed over the vanity slab. It was also the first time she had seen the full scorpion tattoo covering his back this close in full light.
A symbol of his former life forever etched onto his skin.
The tail disappeared into his hair, the body running from his nape down between his shoulder blades, the legs curling up and around his sides, the pinchers gliding over his hips and buttocks.
It was … grimly magnificent.
Except for the scars crisscrossing his back.
Long ragged scars.
The marks of torture.
God Almighty.
He’d been through so much.
Compassion,love, rolled through her, but she held back from approaching. She found a washcloth and wiped away the remnants of their lovemaking before moving closer.
He looked up, and their eyes met in the mirror.
The pain reflected in those pools of blue seared her heart. “Rafferty,” she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He recoiled at her touch, his expression shutting down,shutting her out, as he broke eye contact.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she snapped, poking her index finger into his bicep. “After what we just shared, you do not get to shut me out.”
He shifted sideways and leaned against the marble. “And what, exactly, did we just share?” he sneered, folding his arms.
“Something I’ve never experienced before.”
“You’ve never had an orgasm? I find that hard to believe, Brandy-Lyn. After all, you fucked my brother.” His gaze bore into hers, blazing with something indeterminable. “Mytwinbrother.”
“Don’t be an obtuse dick, Rafferty Lawson. Youknowwhat I mean.”
His eyes moved away, and he compressed his lips. “You were a good fuck, Red. But you need to go,” he muttered. “Back to Texas. Forgetthat” — he inclined his head toward the bedroom — “happened. It meant nothing to me.”
Brandy stared in disbelief, his words dropping into her heart, one by one, releasing a cold numbing dread. She considered them, turning them over and over.
Need to go. Back to Texas. Forget. Meant nothing.
And for a moment, a mere nanosecond, she considered doing just that. Fuck Rafferty Lawson and all his complexities.
She took him in. Naked and nonchalant, leaning his hip against the vanity unit, seemingly uncaring about the hurtful and damaging words he spouted.
Except …
Hooded stare glued to the floor, studiously avoiding hers. Lips thinned, jaw clenched, the vein in his neck throbbing. It was the only movement in his stiff posture. Her gaze lowered. Armsfolded, the knuckles of his exposed hand white, fingers digging into his arm. Heavy flaccid penis. Thick corded thighs. One leg bent; foot planted in front of the other.
This is it, Brandy. Fight or flight.
