Unbeloved (Undeniable #4)(55)

“Saggy boobs,” I said softly with a sigh.

This wasn’t the body of a woman who should be standing beside a man like Hawk. This was the body of a woman who . . .

I thought of Richard, a local butcher back in San Francisco I’d gone on a few awkward dates with. He was a kind man but as far as his looks went, he had been balding and rather rotund. The longer I stared at myself, the more I thought of myself as Richard’s physical equal, a woman you would expect to see with a man like him.

Not with a man like the tall and astoundingly muscular one lying just outside this room. Covered in tattoos, oozing strength, Hawk had never looked his age. Visually, he was such a strong presence, giving the appearance of both an outer and inner strength, both qualities making him appear somewhat ageless.

And I was . . . me.

“Screw it,” I said under my breath, turning away from the mirror. If I continued to stare at myself, beating myself up over every little imperfection, I would talk myself right out of what I wanted.

I could be like Eva or Christina, I could be wild . . . *. Couldn’t I?

I could, or at least, dammit, I could try.

Even as I was wrinkling my nose up at the thought of referring to my anatomy as “wild *,” I grabbed hold of the doorknob and pulled open the door. As if he’d been watching the door the entire time I’d been inside the bathroom, Hawk’s eyes were on me. Or rather, they were on my breasts.

Be brave, I silently told myself.

Fighting the urge to cover myself, I proceeded quickly, marching forward like a woman on a mission, until I’d reached the end of the bed. It took him a moment, but eventually Hawk pried his eyes away from my body and looked up into my eyes.

“I’ve always loved you,” I said, sounding as breathless as I felt. “And I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry for my outburst. I was being silly and selfish, wanting to just spend a few days alone together before I had to share you again.”

Hawk stared at me, looking confused. “You’re . . . naked?” he said, sounding as perplexed as he looked.

“Yes, I’m naked,” I snapped. Annoyed by his response to my nudity, or rather, his lack of response, I put my hands on my hips and narrowed my eyes. “I’m naked because I want to be with you, you big, dumb man.”

The slow smile that lit his face, painting creases around his eyes and highlighting his hard features with a sexy sort of softness, was breathtaking. Hawk hardly smiled; his expression was normally as stoic as he usually was. But on those precious occasions when he had smiled in the past, it had always taken my breath away. How incredible that such a small, simple gesture could transform a rather frightening-looking man with hardened features into a softer, more beautiful one.

But his smile, as it always had been, was short lived, and as it slipped away from his face, replaced by his usual indifference, my heart sank and anxiety filling me. I wasn’t a sexually confident woman, no matter how much I pretended to be. I couldn’t be like Eva or Christina, not really. And now I was left standing here, completely nude, wondering what I’d been thinking, walking out here like this and putting myself on display, ripe for rejection.

“I’m kinda broken,” he said, nodding down at his leg.

And just like that my anxiety slipped away. It was rare for Hawk to show any sort of vulnerability, and in the face of his admission it became instantly clear to me that I wasn’t the only one feeling a little unsure. Just knowing that this formidable man had fears too was what encouraged me to move forward with my original plan.

“We’re all a little broken,” I whispered, reaching up into my hair and brushing my fingers over my scar. “And you don’t have to do anything, just lie there and I’ll do it all.”

I nearly clapped my hand over my mouth, disbelieving the words that had just come out of me. Those weren’t my words, they were the words of a confident woman, a worldly woman who could make her own decisions, one who saw what she wanted and went for it, no outside persuasion necessary.

I wasn’t that woman.

But just maybe . . . I could pretend to be.

“Woman,” Hawk said, his voice growing significantly deeper, more lyrical than before, something I’d learned long ago was attributed to his arousal. “You can’t say somethin’ like that then just keep standin’ there. Get your damn ass over here.”

Burning with a sudden blossoming embarrassment, I slowly began rounding the bed. I was overly aware of Hawk’s gaze on me, traveling up and down my body, and desperately trying not to blush because of it. As it was, my stomach was once again fluttering, and worse, I was starting to sweat.

Reaching his side of the bed, I paused, searching out a way to climb atop him without hurting him, but Hawk’s hand stayed me. Reaching out, his palm grazed my side and ran down the length of me before settling on my hip.

My breath hitched and my eyes fluttered closed. His touch on my naked skin, so familiar yet so foreign, was both comforting and disconcerting. I had to remind myself that this was Hawk, and that my love for him superseded the years we’d spent in limbo.

“I missed you,” he said hoarsely. “I f*cking missed you, D.”

My eyes flew open to find him staring up at me, at my body, with an almost reverent look on his face. It was moving in a way that left me unable to find the right words to describe it, and crushed to dust any lasting reservations I’d been feeling.