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Her eyes were fixed firmly to mine.
“But I want you to touch me,” she said. She stepped back and started to undo the buttons to the front of her dress. “I want you to make love to me.”
Her words struck me hard. And not in my dick. They reached up deep inside of me and wrapped themselves around my heart.
“Angel—” I breathed, fighting every goddamn urge in me.
Her dress slid to the floor. And just like that she was standing naked and tanned in the lounge room, looking so fucking perfect it stole my breath away. She was a goddess. So soft. So sweet. So irresistible. I closed my eyes and swallowed thickly. When I opened them again, she was moving toward me, her glorious blonde hair a stark contrast against her tanned skin, her eyes shining like sapphires. In the late afternoon light, she glowed like an angel, and every cell of my body roared at me to let this fucking happen.
“Touch me,” she said.
Reaching for my hand, she placed it against her breast and my knees went weak.
“You don’t want this,” I rasped.
War raged inside me, because I had never wanted anything so much in my life as much as I wanted to touch her right now. It went against all the barriers I’d put up to protect myself, to protect her, from the harm I could do.
But Cassidy ignored me and pressed her beautiful body into mine.
“I want you,” she whispered. She lifted up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against mine.
In my mind, little pinholes of light were breaking through the darkness. But the darkness was resisting them, reminding me that she deserved better than this.
That I was the monster to her angel. The beast to her beauty.
I’d always thought my darkness was the most powerful force I’d ever known.
But it was nothing compared to the power of her allure.
Her lips brushed mine again, and when she whimpered, it was my undoing.
Light shattered the darkness completely, and I growled as I surrendered and kissed her until we were both breathless.
Her cool fingers slid to the back of my neck, and I stiffened. Her hands. They rubbed over my scars, and even though I still had on my T-shirt, there was no way they couldn’t feel the lumps and bumps of rough skin beneath the fabric.
She hadn’t seen my scars on my back.
Hadn’t seen the layers of rough, melted skin.
The ugly side of war.
But not the ugliest side of me.
For a moment I had forgotten.
I’d been so lost in her, I’d forgotten the ugliness inside me.
I looked down at her, my heart aching.
She needed to know who she was dealing with.
“I came back from war… different,” I rasped out. “I’m not the same man I was when I left.”
She took a tiny step back so she could look up at me. “What do you mean?”
“My body was broken over there, Cassidy. The scars are pretty horrific. But not all the scars are on the outside.” I slid the pad of my thumb across her lips. I needed her to understand what was growing inside of me. “I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
She thought about it for a moment, looking up at me, her eyes glittering. Then she reached up and tenderly touched my face. “You talk like you’re a monster. But you’re not.”
There was an infinite gentleness in her eyes, and again my heart ached with longing.
“You don’t know me, you haven’t seen…”
I frowned. I couldn’t tell her about taking the shot.
“Let me see you,” she whispered. “All of you.”
She stepped back and with her eyes firmly riveted to mine, found the hem of my T-shirt. My abs flinched beneath her touch, and my breath hitched in my throat as she lifted my shirt over my head and let it drop to the floor. I was powerless against the intensity of the moment. Rooted to the spot. My heart pounding like a jackhammer against my ribcage.
Her gentle fingers whispered my abs as she slowly walked around me. They trailed across my bare chest and over my shoulders, curving around my bicep until they reached my back. I winced when they left the smooth plane of my shoulder blade and touched the puckered, scarred skin of my back.
I closed my eyes. I felt exposed. Open.
Vulnerable.
I held my breath and felt the disgust tremble through me.
I waited for her to recoil. But she didn’t falter. She kept trailing her fingers along the rubbery skin as she slowly moved around me.
When she faced me again, she rose up on her toes, and I felt her breath against my ear.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered in my ear.
“I’m not—”
She cut me off with her finger on my lips then replaced it with her sweet lips. Warmth burst through me, ripped from my heart by her tenderness. Her lips were sweet, the stroke of her tongue slow and seductive.
