Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)(62)

“It’s okay. You can touch it. It stopped hurting a few days after it happened. It won’t bite your fingers off. It’s a scar. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

I placed my fingers over my mouth, swallowing bile. “What happened?”

“Foster parent number one. My fault. I decided to go hero and keep him from beating his biological kid.” He said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, as if branding happened to everyone. “And this—” Noah touched the top tip of his tattoo on his other arm “—is from where I used my body to protect Tyler and Jacob from debris falling in the fire.”

The one-inch wide scar ran down the middle of his cross tattoo and stopped at the bottom edge. The top of the scar continued onto his back. I tore my eyes away from it to study the design of his tattoo. A single rose weaved through the black Celtic cross. Each tip of the cross bore the name of his mother, father or brothers. The heaviness in my chest squeezed my lungs. I traced the line of the cross, not the scar.

“It’s a beautiful tribute to them.” I couldn’t imagine losing everything. At least I still had my father. I might have to jump through hoops for the rest of my life to please him, but at least for the moment, I still had … I think … his love.

Noah took the hand tracing his tattoo and kissed my fingers. “Yes, it is. My parents would be proud of each scar.”

My eyes snapped to his. “I didn’t mean … I meant the … tattoo.”

He licked his lips before flashing a mischievous smile. “I know. I showed you mine, now it’s time you showed me yours.”

I shook my head back and forth before he even finished his statement. “It’s not the same. You’re strong. You helped people. I … I trusted the wrong person and then I go all pathetic and don’t remember a thing. Anyhow, you’re a guy. Scars on guys are, like, sexy. Scars on girls … that’s just … ugly.” And there, I said it—out loud.

His hold on my hand tightened and his eyes darkened into thunderclouds. “Fuck that. There is no shame in trusting your mother. She f**ked up. Not you. And as for that pathetic bullshit—f*ck that, too. You are not pathetic. You had the guts to return to school and continue to live your life like nothing happened. Me? I lost it all and flushed anything left of me down the damn toilet. Now that’s pathetic.”

Noah released my hand and advanced on me like an angry lion. In lightning-fast movements he wrapped his arms around my waist and laid me flat on the bed. My heart pounded as he hovered over me. “Baby, no one would ever make the mistake of using the word ugly with you. Especially with me around.” He pushed the curls off my face, his fingers leaving a burning trail. “Everything about you is beautiful and sexy as hell.”

I turned my head to the side, unable to hold his gaze. “There’s more.” Because there’s always more. My mother guaranteed that. I grabbed the hem of my sweater and before I lost my nerve, tugged the material over my head and twisted slightly, revealing not only my black lace bra and arms, but the one scar no one but my mother and father knew existed.

Noah’s fingers lightly touched the long thick ridge below my left shoulder blade. His voice pitched low. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“No one else knows, Noah. Not even Lila.”

He kissed my back as he slid his hand over the scars on my arm. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered against my skin. Noah lifted my arm and kept eye contact as his mouth trailed kisses along the scars. Pure hunger darkened those chocolate-brown eyes. “Kiss me.”

Raw emotions and the need to hold him close overwhelmed me. Every part of me ached for him—my mind, my soul and my body. Without hesitation, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips eagerly to his.

Noah’s hands were everywhere, my hair, my face, my back, and for the love of all things holy, my br**sts. My hands roamed his glorious body just as greedily. After drugging me with delicious kisses for not nearly long enough, his warm lips skimmed my throat and kissed down the center of my br**sts, causing me to arch my back and lose my ever loving mind.

Without meaning to, I moaned and whispered his name when his hands wandered to my thighs and set my world and blood on fire. Noah eased me back into the bed and my hair sprawled all around me.

“I love how you smell,” he whispered as he suckled my earlobe. “I love how beautiful you are.”

I reclaimed his lips and hooked a leg around his as we moved in rhythm with each other. In between frantic kisses, I whispered the words, “I love you.” Because I did. Noah listened to me. He made me laugh and he made me feel special. He was strong and warm and caring and … everything. I loved him. I loved him more than I’d ever loved another person in my life.

Every muscle in my body froze when Noah stopped kissing and stared down at me with wide eyes. He caressed my cheek twice over and tilted his head. “Make love to me, Echo. I’ve never made love.”

No way. Noah’s experienced reputation walked down the hallway before he did. “But …”

Noah cut me off with a kiss. “Yes, but never love. Just girls who didn’t mean anything. You …” His tongue teased my bottom lip, thawing my body. “Are everything. I got tested over winter break and I’m clean and I’ve got protection.” He reached to the side of the bed and magically produced a small orange square.