Scratch

by Rhonda Helms

  I nodded.

  Then his hand cupped me, kneaded me, and he rained kisses down my upper chest. His open lips were a wet heat that dampened my tank top, my bra, right to the upper curves of my breast.

  The boiling heat that was building in my core kicked into high gear. I arched my back, nudging my breast closer to his mouth. With one hand I cupped his head and silently urged him to do it.

  His hot mouth suckled my nipple through my clothes, and I groaned as pleasure spiked in my pelvis.

  “Oh God, that feels so good,” I said on a breathy sigh.

  He sucked my nipple in deeper, and I caressed his soft hair, stroked his neck.

  I wanted more. I wanted to touch him.

  “Bedroom,” I managed to grind out.

  He paused, pulled back. “Are you sure?”

  I knew what he was asking. My heart was racing so hard I was sure he could hear it. I was scared and excited and I craved him with a feeling I’d never experienced before. But was I ready to have sex with him?

  If we did, he’d see me.

  But maybe we could keep our clothes on and kiss in the dark. Kissing was good, right?

  “I want to lay down and kiss you,” I finally said. It was as honest as I could be in this moment.

  He took my mouth again in a quick, possessive kiss. Then he grasped my hand and led me to the bedroom. After closing the door behind us, we made it to my bed and nudged our shoes off, our mouths pressing together again. We fell together, limbs wrapped, bodies so close there was no space between them.

  I tugged Daniel’s shirt off. I needed to feel his muscles under my fingers. His torso was like a furnace. I urged him onto his back and hovered above him. There were small slits of light coming from the window.

  My breath stuck in my throat as I looked down at his body. Even in the dim light, I could see every muscle, every plane. I was filled with an almost painful urge to rub my naked breasts against him.

  Daniel remained silent, staring up at me. I knew he was letting me dictate the terms. Since that first night, he’d kept his hands above my clothes. But right now, that wasn’t satisfying me. I ached for more, even as I feared it.

  I was torn between my hunger for him and my debilitating concern of what he’d think if he saw me naked. But I knew there was no real way to win this battle—I’d have to be brave and let him see me, or be content with just kissing.

  “What’s wrong?” he said in a quiet whisper. “Do you want to stop?”

  I sat back, pulse roaring in my ears. I could put everything on hold right now. I could stay safe and keep my secrets for longer. “No.” The word ripped out of me, though my head screamed for me to stop. “I don’t. But before it goes any further”—I swallowed—“there’s something I need to talk about.”

  Chapter 15

  Daniel sat up in bed and flicked on the table light. He scooted back and looked at me. “What do you need to talk about?”

  As much as I wanted to run away from this conversation, I made myself stare right in his eyes. My brain scrabbled for the perfect words, how to explain everything churning around inside me right now.

  He paused, and his eyes flickered with an inscrutable expression. “Are you a virgin? Because you know we don’t have to—”

  “Oh. No, that’s not it.” My face burned a bit. “I’ve . . . had sex before. It just—” It was awful, and I hadn’t felt anywhere near the intensity I did with him. My entire body was still thrumming, right on the edge. “I have a hard time being comfortable with this kind of intimacy.” Boy, could this conversation make me sound any more awkward?

  Daniel reached over and stroked his thumb along my palm. The gesture was meant to be comforting, but it kept my arousal brewing. “I understand. We don’t have to go any further than you feel comfortable with.” His eyes were perfectly clear and honest; I could tell he meant every word. If I only wanted to kiss him, he’d keep it at that.

  But how long would that really satisfy either one of us? He wanted me, and I wanted him so desperately. I could feel my own arousal, and his was evident too.

  Daniel shifted like he was going to stand, reaching for his shirt to put it back on. No, I wanted to cry out. He was leaving my bed, leaving the intimacy of this room, and every cell in my body was screaming for him to stay here with me.

  “Wait,” I said, resting a hand on his still-bare lower back. “Wait.”

  He paused, his head angled so I couldn’t see his eyes clearly. He slipped the shirt on. “I . . . figured that meant you wanted this to stop. Our interactions so far have had a clear pattern of me pushing you somehow, stepping on a landmine I don’t even know about. Then you run away. I don’t want to keep doing that. Not here. Not right now.”

  “It’s just . . . I have scars,” I told him. I pressed my hand over the area where my familiar abdominal scar tissue rested; emotion welled in my chest, though I fought it off as best as I could. “And I don’t want you to see it.” A bubble filled my throat and I bit back a frustrated sob. “They’re ugly. Deep. I don’t even like to look at myself naked in the shower.”

  Shame heated my face. It was hard, making myself so vulnerable to this man who was beautiful and perfect. He could be carved out of marble, his skin flawless, his muscles lean and sculpted. He didn’t understand what it felt like, knowing I would be physically damaged for the rest of my life.

  “I’m . . .” I paused, drew in a shallow breath. “I’m afraid you’ll be grossed out if you see them, and it just might break me if you are.” My last words faded into the silence stretching between us.

  Daniel stood, not looking at me. My heart started to splinter. I stood too; I was going to scrape together my pride, walk him to the door and keep this emotion bottled up until he left.

  But instead of leaving, he turned toward the bed, ripped the blanket off, then tossed it on the floor. Confusion filled me, and I stared dumbly at him. Then he tugged off the top sheet and threw it on the floor as well. He took my hand and stared into my eyes, through my eyes and into my heart. I saw a rapid pulse fluttering at the base of his throat.

  “Casey.” There was so much emotion in his voice; it poured over me like warm oil. “Trust me, please.”

  Could I? I swallowed, nodded.

  An edge of the stress ticking the strong line of his jaw faded, and he nudged me to stretch out on the bed. He picked up the sheet and draped it over my top half so my legs and head were exposed. I lay there, wondering what was happening.

  Then he raised my arms and, with the sheet still covering my torso, gently tugged the shirt over my head.

  My heartbeat picked up again, danced a scattered beat. I was topless except for my bra. But I was still covered, my stomach scars out of sight.

  Daniel flicked the light off; his breathing was soft and a little ragged. He sat on the edge of the bed and brushed his hands across my skin. “I want you to feel good. I don’t want you to be ashamed of your body.” His hands were like velvet on my flesh. I almost purred at the gentle strokes up and down my arms, across the very top of my chest. It was soothing and arousing at the same time.

  After a few minutes of him quietly running his fingers across my flesh, I slipped into a more relaxed state. I felt like I was melting in the bed. And yet I also became extra-aware of him—the raspy edge of his breathing, the underlying remains of his cologne. The pads of his fingers. Everything surged into my senses.

  His fingers brushed against the waistband of my shorts, then paused. “I promise you, any time you want to stop, I will, immediately. Just say the word.” His voice was husky with his arousal, and I wished I could see his eyes. I knew they shone with intensity right now.

  “Okay,” I managed to say. I wanted to feel him do those same stroking motions on my legs too.

  He adjusted the sheet so it covered me to midthigh, then tugged my shorts off too. I was left in panties and a bra. A flash of self-consciousness hit me, but he began moving his hands in one long, continuous motion down my thigh. His thumb
swept under the bend of my knee, and I moaned at the erotic sizzle in my body from the touch.

  “I love hearing the sounds you make when you’re turned on,” he said, his voice rolling over me like warm sunshine.

  “You make me feel good,” I admitted. He did, and not just physically. No one had ever gone through this kind of effort to help me relax. To nurture me.

  When his hand came back up my leg, fingertips brushing my inner thigh, I arched toward him. Suddenly I needed more than just his hands on me. I reached over and slipped my fingers under his shirt, tugged it up just a bit, wordlessly asking for him to remove it. He quickly shucked it and tossed it at the foot of the bed. Then he crawled on the bed beside me.

  Our bodies touched from toe to pelvis to chest. Then our mouths met, and I exploded with hunger, gripping him. His hands moved across my exposed thighs, skimmed my hips and waist over top of the sheet, moved to my breasts, where he lowered his mouth to one hard nipple and sucked through the thin fabric of my bra. Then he slipped the cup down and bared me.

  When his mouth captured my bare nipple, my core grew damp and throbbing. I dug my fingers into his hair, urged him closer. He licked and swallowed and sucked my flesh. I rubbed my knee along his inner thigh, let my leg stroke him where he was hardest.

  “God, I want you,” he said. There was an edge of frantic need in his voice.

  “I want you too,” I managed to get out. “Please. Please.” And I did. I knew it wasn’t going to be enough to kiss like this. I needed, ached to feel him inside of me. I wanted us to connect in a way I’d never had before. I had to give him a piece of myself that would stay with him forever, and him with me.

  I felt him fumble in his pocket, and then something rustled.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. He pulled back and looked in my eyes. I could hardly see him in the dim light, but I caught the glint in his pupils. He was intense, his emotions brimming right there, unflinching. “I need to hear you say it, please. Because if . . . this . . . comes between us and you run from me again, it just might kill me.”

  “Please make love to me,” I whispered. “I promise, I won’t run.” I trailed kisses along his jaw, filled with an overwhelming urge to show him how I felt.

  Daniel had been an open book for me since day one. But I’d kept him at arm’s length, had come close, then run away, again and again. He deserved better than that, and for tonight, I wanted to be that person. The one he deserved.

  The one I deserved to be. A girl who didn’t feel like she was beyond hope. A girl who felt . . . worshiped. Adored. Valued.

  Daniel nuzzled his mouth against my throat and tugged off his shorts and boxer briefs. And then he was fully naked, hard and firm against me. A nervous flutter started in my belly. But not fear.

  Anticipation. I wanted this.

  One hand moved up the bottom of the sheet and cupped my apex, pouring heat into my already overheated body. Then he slipped a finger inside, and pleasure spiraled in a low hum. Every sense was exploding with detail, etching this moment into my mind.

  “You amaze me,” he said as he licked the flesh underneath my jaw. His breath sent warm, damp puffs against my throat. I ran my tongue along his skin.

  My orgasm began to edge closer. My whole body was humming, singing, alive because of him. “I’m . . .” I tensed, arched. “I’m going to . . .”

  His finger stroked the right spot at that moment, and I was enveloped in a blaze of sensations, sizzling from my core down my limbs. “Yes,” he whispered, taking my mouth with his. His words were ragged and rough, and I clenched around him.

  After several long moments, the furious explosion died down. I reached a hand up and stroked a lock of hair away from his brow. He kissed the tip of my nose, then paused as he slipped on the condom.

  Daniel slid on top of me, arms bracketing my head, legs nudging my pliant thighs apart. I eagerly wrapped around him. A pause, and then he was in me, and we both groaned our pleasure.

  “You . . . feel . . .” He rasped his words against my forehead, kissing my face, the fingers of one hand tangled in my messy hair. He pulled out, then pushed back in, and he was big and filled me in a way I’d never imagined. “You feel beautiful,” he finally said.

  Daniel stared down into my eyes, stroked a thumb across my mouth as we moved together, him thrusting and me rotating my hips to draw him in deeper. I saw all the way into him, and realization blinded me in that moment. I felt like all of my walls were shattered apart, and I didn’t think I could resurrect them again.

  I was falling in love with this man.

  My heart stuttered, and I swallowed the surprised gasp that almost came out.

  Our pace increased. Sweat made our bodies slippery, permeated the thin sheet between our torsos; the moment was intense and emotional, and I was almost overwhelmed with my feelings. His eyes were dark and full of life, full of desire for me. And with the sheet between us, my scars still hidden away, I didn’t feel self-conscious. I felt sexy, caught up in the moment.

  In him.

  And he’d done this for me.

  I couldn’t stop touching Daniel’s body. The fire had been ignited and was consuming everything in me; I burned for him. I dug my heels into his firm backside, urging him on. Our mingled breaths panted in time until we were breathing each other in. His limbs began to tense and he slammed into me harder, with a more erratic pace, stroking my inner walls with his impossibly hard length. I wanted him to feel good, as good as he’d made me feel; I arched beneath him, ground against him.

  “Come for me, Daniel,” I whispered. I nibbled on the shell of his ear, rubbed my bare breasts on his chest.

  He gave a little shiver, and his breathing grew harsh and irregular. His pace sped up more, and our pleasure began to spiral toward that intense zone again.

  “I’m—” His head jerked back and his whole body tensed. “Oh God . . .”

  I clung to him, needing him to fill me. And with a beautiful shudder, he moaned my name. His hand tightened in my hair; the other gripped my hip, keeping us pinned together as Daniel orgasmed.

  We grew still. He released the tight clench on me and withdrew. But before he moved from on top of me, he tilted my chin so our eyes locked.

  “Thank you,” he said. Simple words, but I could see the genuine affection behind them. He brushed a kiss on each corner of my mouth.

  My throat closed up, and tears threatened to well. There was something so . . . humbling about this man who was thanking me for our pleasure. As if I’d given him a precious gift.

  Could it be anywhere close to what he’d done for me?

  He disposed of the condom, then came right back to my side. Our bodies touched along every curve, like we couldn’t bear to be apart for a long time. He spooned against my backside, and one hand lazily played with the strands of my hair. The other arm lay on top of my sheet, stroking my hip.

  I love you, Daniel.

  The words wanted to crawl right out of my mouth, to my elation and horror. I had never had an experience that intensely pleasurable before, so maybe that was making me this emotional. I had never just let go and . . . felt. While I could allow myself to feel this love, there was no chance I was going to say it to him.

  I still needed time to process this all. I wanted to be sure this was real, not just a product of sexual elation. Though even as I thought that, I scoffed at myself. I knew it wasn’t that. My feelings for him had been growing for a while now. This had made them explode in front of me so vividly, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

  My fingers slipped over his and rested there. I stroked the lean digits, let myself memorize him by touch, piece by piece. I could feel his heart beating steady against my back. Our sweat-slicked skin made us even closer.

  “Stay the night,” I found myself saying. “Um. If you want to. You don’t have to, but you can—”

  “I’d love to,” he said, and I heard a light chuckle. “But I’ll have to swing my by place either tonight or tomorrow morning to get my th
ings. Hopefully my roommates haven’t destroyed the place.” Daniel had three roommates who were all much wilder than he was. He didn’t hang around them much since they were party animals, and I was fine with staying away from their apartment. Not my kind of people either.

  Sleepy satisfaction kept me rooted in my spot. “Maybe we can take a little nap and then head over there,” I offered. I smothered a yawn. “And find some dinner, too, while we’re at it.”

  He fit so perfectly against me. How was that possible? Even as I thrilled at our growing connection, I knew it meant I was vulnerable to him now. That I was letting him in and he could very well crush me if this didn’t work out between us. But I didn’t want to focus on that right now.

  For once, I wanted to live in this moment and let myself be happy.

  “That sounds great.” His breathing evened out, slowed down, became regular as he slipped into a quick sleep.

  I took a bit longer to fall asleep, but when I did, the last sensation I felt before I went under was our fingers still linked.

  Chapter 16

  My heart was going to explode right out of my chest. I was sure of it.

  Daniel reached over from his spot on the passenger’s seat and squeezed my hand. He seemed to sense my sudden tension spike. Probably because I was as stiff as a board in the driver’s seat.

  I couldn’t help it. We were heading to my grandparents for my usual Friday meal with them. Only this time, I’d brought Daniel. Late last night, while I’d waited in the car for Daniel to fetch his stuff—he’d brought a small bag with his belongings, plus his books for Friday morning classes—I’d impulsively called Grandma and asked if it would be okay.

  She had not only insisted I bring him today, she’d put Granddad on the phone to make him insist it as well. Apparently, my calling to ask wasn’t enough proof that I wanted him there. I’d laughed and promised them we’d come.

  But now that we were actually on our way, I couldn’t seem to keep my pulse under control. It was erratic to the point where I could feel it thrumming on the side of my neck; if I didn’t calm myself down, I was going to have a stupid panic attack. I was so nervous about what would happen.