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“Let go, Kai,” she says softly. There is no trace of cheerfulness as she pulls her hands free of mine. “I want to know what you feel like. What I did to you.”
My heart slams in my chest, and I lose my smile. “Callie, stop.”
“No. I won’t. I let you down. I know that.” Her gaze is latched onto mine as she brings her hands to my shoulders again. “We can’t turn back time. But I know what my part in all of this was. If I were brave like you, I wouldn’t have left you behind. Twice.”
“Callie—”
“I wish I wasn’t a coward back then,” she cuts me off in a low but calm voice. “So we could’ve been together all those years. But it’s pointless to regret what happened. And now you are the most important person I have, Kai. I want to know what’s mine. If we don’t go through with our plan, if something…” She swallows hard but doesn’t get soft like she used to. “If something happens, Kai, I want to remember as much of you as I can.” She presses her forehead to mine. “Please let me.”
Without breaking the eye contact, she starts slowly sliding her fingers along my skin again, her touch so soft it makes my skin tingle with goosebumps.
I know she is studying the texture under her fingertips. My every nerve stands to attention, every ridge and crevice under the tattoos tingle at her touch. Her eyes are so close that I can see the tiniest shifts of emotions as her fingertips meet raised skin or an unnaturally smooth patch.
Before, I thought that sex was the most intimate thing between two people in love. Or maybe, confessing your feelings to each other.
But no. The most intimate thing is letting others open you up and stare pointblank at your trauma. Letting them know where it came from, how much pain it held, how much healing it took.
“Don’t stop me,” she says softly.
And I let her do what she wants. If she can see me, be close to me, then she can feel me. All of me. It’s terrifying and liberating at once.
Callie breaks the eye contact, then brings her lips to my shoulder and kisses my skin.
I clench my teeth. I close my eyes, trying to figure out my inner battle. This is embarrassing. Yet, so open and raw. Her hair slides along my chest, and the sensation of her hair, fingers, and lips on my scarred skin is indescribable.
I place my hands on her thighs, not knowing what to do with myself. I want to kiss her, but her kissing my scars feels too emotional.
I hold my breath.
This is more intense than a shower when I have to touch my fucked-up armor. This is peeling back the curtain to my soul—months of hurt, years of embarrassment, a bottomless pit of anger that I thought I would never get over.
And then I did. Now Callie is stitching together all the wounds that were never closed. The deepest ones. The ones inside.
She kisses my bicep, then shimmies down my body onto her knees, between my legs, pushes them open, and kisses my chest.
I grunt.
The feeling of being so exposed is saturated with want, the deepest kind that makes my body simmer with need as my cock rubs against her belly.
I am undone—as a person and as a man.
My hands tangle in Callie’s blond hair, and I have to restrain myself from bucking my hips at her.
Her body is perfect, slender and flexible. Her tan is jagged—white lines and triangles from her bikini. I make a mental note to trace every bit of that untanned skin with my tongue.
Her hands push my legs apart even wider. Her breasts touch my hard cock as she trails little kisses down my torso, her hands slowly gliding everywhere like she is smoothing a sheet.
This is unreal.
She’s never been with anyone but me. And here she is, working me like she is an expert lover, kissing and stroking my skin like it has the most exquisite feel.
Callie’s lips brush across my hip.
“Fuck,” I whisper, not able to restrain myself.
Her blond strands slide along my erection, in contrast with the dark curls around my cock. It’s the softest touch, but my body is a live wire, burning with the strongest arousal everywhere she touches me—with her hands on my legs, her lips that trail little kisses down my thigh, her hair that caresses my cock.
“Baby girl,” I whisper, not really sure if I am trying to stop her or encourage her.
