The Billionaire's Touch (The Sinclairs #3)(37)
His possessive, dominant words ramped up her desire as nothing else possibly could. It should have been frightening, and it probably would have been if it had come from anyone other than Evan. But right now, his words were a vocal declaration of the same need that was reverberating deep inside her soul.
She wanted to be his; she wanted him to belong to her. The emotions were primal and predatory, strangely feeling as natural as breathing at the moment.
Randi usually went for the more delicate and pretty pastels in her underwear choices rather than the sultry, sexy lingerie made to actually inspire lust, but Evan didn’t seem to care. “They really aren’t all that sexy,” she answered, suddenly nervous.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Evan, but she’d never seen the wild look in his eyes that was now bared to her. He seemed . . . completely raw, and he was breathtaking when he was like this. She watched with her fingers on the zipper of her jeans as he steadily tore at his own clothing until he stood before her completely naked.
“Oh, God. You are beautiful,” she whispered breathlessly, taking in every rippling muscle and what seemed like an enormous amount of bare skin, touchable skin. In complete daylight, she could see several faded scars on his shoulders and chest. “Turn around,” she demanded as she shucked off her jeans, any self-consciousness she had experienced now gone.
“I’d rather not,” Evan commented around his clenched jaw, his blue eyes flashing with anger and intense arousal.
Maybe she should have been afraid of his ferocity, but she wasn’t. She knew his anger didn’t lie with her, and he was man enough that he wasn’t going to take it out on the wrong person. Evan was self-contained and cautious. What she was seeing right now wasn’t something he showed to anyone. He was baring himself to her because he trusted her, at least a little. That knowledge spurred Randi on.
“Please,” she begged, knowing that this was something Evan had to get through himself, another hurdle he needed to jump. Unfortunately, she suspected it would be much harder than eating sweets or wearing more casual clothing when he wasn’t working.
She pulled her sweater over her head as she waited and held her breath.
He eyed her hungrily before slowly starting to turn around, and Randi released her breath in a rush.
The scars weren’t horrible; they weren’t even that noticeable at first glance. But as Randi moved closer, she traced every faded line across his back and butt, and noticed they marked the backs of his thighs as well. His heavy muscles convulsed beneath her fingers as she touched every mark.
Why? I don’t understand why a parent has to beat a child. I know his father was a horrible man, but Hope never mentioned being beaten. I assumed he was just verbally abusive and treated them all like shit.
As the eldest male Sinclair, obviously the entire focus had been on Evan, and in some of the cruelest ways to a child.
Tears started to flow down her cheeks rapidly, but she ignored her own emotions. What had Evan’s life been like as a child? He’d been barely fed, and apparently beaten so badly that the faint marks were still present years later. What kind of monster did that to a child? His father had separated Evan from the rest of the family to use as a tool for his own brutality.
“Bastard!” Randi said aloud, her voice raspy because of her tears. “If your father wasn’t already dead, I’d cut his balls off and shove them down his throat.” The more scars she found, the angrier she got. Her growing up had been tough, but not like this.
“Are you actually . . . upset for me?” Evan asked in a low, hoarse voice.
Yeah. Maybe he didn’t know what it was like for someone to be outraged at what had happened to him, but she was absolutely standing up for the child he’d once been. “Yes.”
“It was a long time ago,” he replied calmly, strangely sounding like he wanted to comfort her.
Randi dropped to her knees and discovered every scar on his thighs and calves. “It doesn’t matter. He was a damn monster. Did he do this to all of the kids?”
“No. Not to the same extent. But the mental abuse he heaped on everyone was worse than the physical.”
Randi heard the hesitation in his voice as he answered, making her suspicious. “You did that on purpose. You let him beat the shit out of you so he didn’t do it to the other kids.” She knew she was right. Evan was a dedicated protector. He wouldn’t have done anything else.
“I can’t deny that it occurred to me that if I was his target of displeasure, he’d leave the others alone,” he agreed reluctantly.
Of course it did. “And did it work?”
“For the most part. He was an asshole, and after I left home for college, he started picking on Grady more than he ever did before. I noticed it when I was home for Christmas, and I was going to have a discussion with him, but then he died.”
She sensed relief in his tone, knowing that Evan had probably planned on more than just discussing his father’s treatment of his younger brother. It would have been nice if Evan had gotten the opportunity to beat the crap out of his father, but it was better that the asshole had died. A physical confrontation between Evan and his father would have been difficult for the entire family.
“It’s over now, Evan.” She didn’t want him to relive any of those memories again. “You’re strong and gorgeous.” Randi cupped his tight ass and brought her mouth to some of the faint lines at his lower back.