Hot Winter Nights (Heartbreaker Bay #6)(67)

His hands went to her hips and he leaned in, his broad shoulders blocking out much of the light as he brushed his mouth over the scar gently. Then he straightened and pointed to a four-inch scar low on his abs. “Knife wound,” he said. “Working for Archer. A perp got the jump on me and tried to gut me. He was very nearly successful too.”

She ran her fingers along the scar, which due to his extreme fitness level had healed well, no puckering of fat or unevenness for him. Still, it was a visceral reminder of exactly how dangerous his life had been. Still was. He’d nearly lost his life several times over. And he hadn’t let it affect him, she thought.

Not like she had.

When her fingers touched his skin, he’d hummed in pleasure and his eyes darkened like they did when he was aroused. She stared at him, awed by how a simple touch from her could render him boneless.

It was exciting.

Empowering.

Eyes maintaining contact with his, she scooted back on the bed and then rolled to lie down on her stomach, cradling her head on her folded arms. She couldn’t see him in this position, but heard him rise and set a knee on the bed.

Knowing what he was looking at now, she closed her eyes. A vicious-looking scar ran from the base of her neck all the way down her spine, broken in two spots signaling two different surgeries. With her dress still at her hips, he couldn’t see all of it, but he could get the gist.

Along the length of the worst of the scarring was the tattoo Sadie had given her that read:

Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional . . .



She stilled when she felt his lips on the back of her neck, sighing in pleasure as he ran hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of her spine.

When he started to tug the dress the rest of the way off, she flipped over. “Wait,” she said. “It’s back to your turn.”

“I think that’s it,” he said.

“No.” Sitting up, she put a palm to his heart. “What’s wrong here?”

He covered her hand with one of his. “It’s been broken,” he admitted quietly.

“When you lost Josh.”

He nodded.

“And Carrie.”

He nodded again.

She nodded too, and then leaned forward and pressed her mouth to the spot right over his heart. He sank his fingers into her hair and gently pulled her away, nudging her down to the bed where he then proceeded to kiss every one of her doubts away.

It’d been a long time since she’d allowed herself to trust a guy to see past her flaws. But it was as if he didn’t even see them at all. He simply saw all of her, as a whole, and that was incredibly freeing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against the skin of her hip as he slid her dress the rest of the way off, tossing it over his shoulder. Positioning one knee between her legs, he braced himself over her, dipping his head down to lick the skin of her collarbone.

In reaction, she arched up off the bed, craving more. So much more. Sliding her hands up his back, she urged him closer because she needed this. Needed him. Needed the feel of his skin pressed to hers, radiating all that heat and power of his into her. Feeling the steady beat of his heart against her own, she raised her hips, hungry to have him inside her. “Please, Lucas,” she breathed. “Please, now.”

With a rough groan, he managed to strip her bra and undies off and to come up with a condom. He buried himself inside her in one perfect, thrust. When he began to move, she lost her mind. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed her heels against his lower back. “Faster,” she whispered.

He smiled against her lips. “What else. Tell me.”

“Harder.”

With a rough groan, he gave her what she wanted until she came apart for him, and only when the last of the shudders left her did he lift his face from where he’d had it buried in her hair. Watching her now, he pushed the hair back from her damp forehead.

“Again,” he said.

She wasn’t much for demands, never had been, but no one had ever demanded anything of her in the bedroom. Apparently that was entirely different because just the sound of his low voice was enough to nearly topple her over again. Nearly. Because she was nothing if not stubborn to end.

Undeterred, he simply smiled his badass smile and slowed his motions, taking care to stroke and touch every inch of her that he could, making her muscles clench and tighten around him. She tried to keep her eyes open, but they drifted closed at the myriad sensations—and emotions—washing over and through her from the feel of being with a man again.

This man.

Taking her hands, Lucas linked his fingers with hers and slid them over her head. His body moved slowly over hers, every inch of his skin caressing her, and unbelievably, she felt the ripples of her release twisting and curling deep in her belly.

Lowering his head, he rubbed his jaw along hers like a big cat. A big sexy cat that looked far too in control of himself to suit her. Twisting her hands free, she grabbed his wrists. Mr. Cool’s pulse was hammering, and when she rocked up into him, she wrenched a very sexy male sound of hunger from deep in his throat. Egged on by that, she began to twist below him in counterpoint to his thrusts. In response, Lucas threw back his head as her body sought his rhythm, their combined movements taking them both over this time.

It took her a while to come back to herself, and when she opened her eyes, she found Lucas, head propped on his hand, watching her with a small but warm smile. “Hey.”