Scarred Survival (Scarred Series Book 5)

by Jackie Williams

  She looked up into pools of aqua blue. The nearly hidden golden flecks glittered, burned into her soul, and she was utterly lost. Her body fell limp against his heat and she knew that she was completely at his mercy. She couldn’t say no anymore than she could have could have asked the sun stop shining or the tides stop turning.

  He read her surrender with a deep groan of desire. His mouth swept down onto hers, his lips moulding, seeking, slanting themselves before his tongue made a gentle sweep and he plunged inside.

  Gemma’s hand played across his shoulder blades as she suddenly couldn’t wait to feel the warmth of his skin. Her fingers drifted to the buttons of his shirt, but he was there first, dragging the cloth from his trousers and lugging it over his head, ignoring the rip of the threads as it strained across his shoulders. He threw the shredded cotton to the floor and dragged her back against him. She splayed her hand across his chest, threading her fingers through the dark hair that curled there and he groaned as she flicked a fingertip over an already tight nipple.

  His chest heaved with his breaths. His muscles flexed and twitched as she held onto every part of him at once. He moved back far enough to catch hold of her dress. He fumbled with the row of tiny crystal buttons that had winked mercilessly at him across the dinner table and on the dance floor. A growl of impatience told her that he wasn’t in control enough to wait.

  His fingers clasped the neckline of the dress, gripped hard and ripped the silk apart. The sparkling crystals zinged about the room as he pushed the torn material from her shoulders before he leaned down and pressed his lips to her satin skin that lay above the wisp of her bra.

  He touched the skin of his cheek into her neck as his lips found the underside of her jaw.

  “You have no idea how much I want you, need you. I thought I was going mad seeing you dance with the other men.” His murmured words whispered across her flesh. He lifted her hair and massaged his fingertips into the curling masses as he began kissing a molten trail along her collar bone.

  Gemma knew that if his thigh hadn’t been supporting her body, she would have been a puddle of liquid heat on the floor. The impressively hard ridge of his passion pressed against her hip bone and she wanted to feel his burning desire without the swathe of material between them.

  She eased her hand down between them, popped the button on his trousers and tugged on his zipper. The soft material dropped to his hips and then fell towards the floor. His cotton boxers soon followed and he took only a second to release the clips on his cast. Free of his clothes at last, he lifted her, letting her wrap her legs around his waist as he carried her to his bed.

  His fingertips worked the clasp of her bra and slipped the straps from her shoulders. She couldn’t stifle the moan of passion that left her lips as his tongue found the tip of her nipple, but she suddenly stiffened in fright. His fingertips had risen again, pulling at the buckle holding her prosthetic arm in place.

  He couldn’t, wouldn’t! Panic seized her. No one but her surgeon, her doctor and his medical staff had ever seen what was left of her arm in any detail. She kept it covered the rest of the time. She couldn’t bear to see Aaron cringe at the puckered skin or wince as he noticed that the end of her bone pressed against it creating a hard, angular lump. She was about to shoot off the bed when he stilled and held her shoulders firmly. He pushed her into the pillows, lifted his head and pressed his forehead against hers as he stared deeply into her frightened eyes.

  “Trust me, Gemma. You are beautiful, every part of you. I want to see you, touch you...All of you. You don’t need to hide anything from me.” His words made her melt. She stared up at him for a moment gauging the look in his eyes. He kissed her as she relaxed back and he continued to slide the strap through the clip.

  Without taking his eyes from hers he unclipped the last buckle and took her prosthetic arm from her body. He lay it on the bedside cabinet before he pressed his lips to her shoulder and began to brush his fingertips down the top of her arm. She shivered under his touch and it took all of her courage to remain still.

  The skin of her arm was soft and warm. He could feel the muscles rippling as she tensed beneath his touch, but he wouldn’t stop now. She had to know how wonderful she was; he had to make her realize that she was an incredibly strong, beautiful woman. The loss of her arm meant nothing, nothing at all to him.

  His lips bent to the end of her arm and he heard her gasp as he swirled his tongue over the skin. He trailed a trail of fire back up to her shoulder across the hollow of her neck and down her other arm to her fingertips. He kissed each one and sucked them into his mouth before pressing his lips to the pulse in her wrist.

  He groaned as her fingers danced along his arm, up to his shoulder before sliding down and tracing the dip along his spine. Shudders of barely restrained passion swept over him as his whole body came alive under her touch. It was seconds before he realized that she had lifted her maimed arm from the bed and was pressing it against his side with gentle strokes.

  He leaned to the side and made short work of the tiny triangle of lace that covered the last hidden inches of her, skimming it over her perfect buttocks and gliding it down her thighs. Her body was covered in a shining layer of perspiration and his eyes rolled up as she lifted her flawlessly muscled leg and draped it high over his hip. He breathed in deeply, scenting the mixture of her perfume and her passion.

  She opened her mouth and the tip of her tongue traced his jaw, pressed into his pulse and then skimmed the column of his throat. She worked her way down to his chest and swirled once before she sucked his nipple into her mouth.

  His brain went completely blank with the blinding pleasure of her touch as white hot light seared his vision. He rolled onto his back and dragged her on top of him. He opened his eyes and stared up in wonder as she knelt above him, her hair wild across her face and shoulders, her eyelashes fluttering, her breasts heaving. She spread her legs over his hips and rocked her pelvis just enough to drive him wild while caressing her own body with her hand and her arm. He reached up to her waist and encircled her with his palms. He lifted her until she rose over him, her smile one of pure ecstasy as his aching need throbbed at her entrance.

  She was exquisite, glorious, completely unique and he couldn’t wait a second longer to have her.

  He lay quietly for a long time, breathing gently, not wanting anything to spoil this slice of heaven. He could feel her next to him, her head on his chest, her body-heat warming his bed and his heart. A strange contentment settled over him as he brushed her stray curls from the side of his face.

  The night hadn’t been long enough. He didn’t think a week would be long enough, or a month or a year.

  His breath stilled in his chest and he suddenly knew that a lifetime wouldn’t meet this bone deep need for the woman lying beside him.

  He rolled over in the bed, the sheet tangling on his pins and pulling away from Gemma’s body leaving her delicious skin naked to his gaze. She gave a small shiver and snuggled in closer. He reached out of the side of the bed and scrabbled for the duvet. They had slung it aside as their combined passion had made it unbearable. He pulled it up over his shoulder and across her body. She sighed and pressed her cheek more firmly into his chest.

  He glanced up as he realized that he could see more than he should be able. Sunlight streaked around the thick curtains and into the bedroom, casting beams across the floor where their discarded clothes lay in shredded heaps. He held back a laugh as he noticed that her tiny panties were flung over the lampshade and her bra hung by a strap from the frame of the mirror.

  He eased himself quietly out of the bed not wanting to disturb her, but had to bite back a curse when he stood and immediately collapsed back as the soles of his feet were nearly punctured by a scattering of crystal buttons. He grinned as he remembered why they were twinkling across his floor and kicked the tiny baubles of torture out of his way before he made his way to the bathroom, picking up their ruined clothes as he went.

 
He dropped his frayed shirt and her ripped dress into a bag. He doubted that anything could be done with either of them now and a smile lifted the corner of his lips as he remembered how they had been ruined. He used the toilet, washed his hands and brushed his teeth before walking back to his bedroom.

  He stopped as he saw Gemma watching him with glowing eyes. She lifted the covers and he slid back towards her, cradling her in his arms as their bodies touched.

  “Hey, there’s a beautiful woman in my bed. How on earth did that happen?” He twisted a curl of her hair in his fingers and tugged her face towards him.

  She suddenly looked horrified and put her hand over her mouth.

  “Stop, morning breath.” She backed away quickly and dragged the sheet with her, wrapping it around her body as she made her way to the bathroom. He laughed when she yelped as she stood on one or two of the crystal buttons.

  She came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later and, remembering the buttons, made a flying leap from the door onto the bed. He let out a great whoosh of air as her hand landed in the middle of his stomach and he rolled to his side carrying her with him. They lay facing each other as he caught his breath. She lifted her hand to his face and rubbed her knuckles on the scruff on his chin. He turned his head and caught her fingers in his mouth, kissing the backs of them as he pulled her towards him.

  She clutched at his shoulder with her fingers and brought her arm up to his face. He turned and kissed the pale flesh on the underside of it and she gave a delicious shiver.

  “God! You make me feel good.” She breathed out and nipped his lip between her teeth. “You make me feel like I’m alive.” She nuzzled her nose into his neck and breathed him in. “Mmm, you smell like heaven dropped into my arms.”

  He tipped her backwards and rolled her onto the pillows. He moved lower and cupped her breasts. He kissed each one tenderly and was about to dive in for more when the telephone beside the bed began ringing.

  He glowered at it, but it kept ringing, and ringing. Gemma raised an eyebrow at him. He huffed several times and willed it to stop before he gave up and rolled over again. He grabbed up the receiver and jammed it to his ear.

  “Yes. Who the hell is it?” His tone was not friendly and Gemma had to shove the edge of the duvet into her mouth to stop the laughter that threatened to spill out, but she stilled as she saw the expression suddenly change on his face.

  He sat up quickly and swivelled so that his back was towards her before he spoke again.

  “Yes, Sir, I understand.” He was suddenly silent. The blood drained from his face. He took a couple of breaths before he spoke again. “What? What’s that you’re saying...You’re telling me now? Jesus! Why the fuck wasn’t I told before?” He paused as the caller barked something at him and his head drooped on his shoulders before he continued. “No, that won’t be a problem. Yes, I realize that will happen. No, it will be better if I come to you. I’ll be there in thirty minutes, Sir.” There were a few more mumbled questions and responses and then he put the receiver down in its cradle. He sat for a long moment and then squared his shoulders again before he grabbed a pair of boxers out of his bedside drawer. He shoved his feet through the holes, stood up and strode to his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of jeans and pulled them over his legs before snapping on the brace that supported him.

  “Aaron? What’s going on?” Gemma asked from beneath the sheets.

  He turned to face her but his eyes looked dead and he didn’t meet her gaze.

  “I’m sorry Gemma. Something’s come up. A bit of a problem actually. I have to get you out of here.”

  She sat up and pushed the hair from her eyes. His face was a blank canvas.

  “Problem? Anything I can do?” She tucked the covers beneath her arms.

  He closed his eyes and drew in an unsteady breath.

  “No, I don’t think there’s anything you can do. I have to leave...” he hesitated as he glanced down at her again, “and you need to get out of here. Now.” He turned to his wardrobe and grabbed out one of his shirts. He held it out to her. “Best I can do at short notice, I’m afraid.”

  Gemma frowned.

  Was he really telling her to get out of his room? After the night they had spent together, after what she thought was going to happen again just a few moments ago?

  She stared at him for a second longer, but seeing no change in his hard expression, she caught hold of the shirt and lugged it over her head before she slipped out of the bed. She unhooked her bra from the mirror and snatched the panties that now dangled from his finger. Jamming her feet into her shoes she swept towards the door.

  He caught hold of her arm as she passed. Her prosthetic limb was in his hand. She stared down at it as though she didn’t know what it was. In just a few short hours he had made her forget that she had ever worn it. She drew in a breath and took it from him.

  He reached out for her but she stood her ground, her body tensed as he spoke through gritted teeth.

  “This isn’t what it seems. You have to trust me...Please.”

  She lifted her eyes to his. His aqua gaze was glacier hard, but the golden flecks warmed them slightly. She inclined her head.

  “I did trust you...and now you are asking me to leave.” Her tone matched the acidic feeling in her stomach. He leaned forwards, but she stepped back out of his reach as his voice beseeched her.

  “Gemma, this isn’t what you think. I have to go right now, but I swear to God that I will sort it out. I will come back for you. Trust me...I’m begging you.”

  She blinked and searched his face.

  “Are you going back to fly?”

  He shook his head and held up his gloved hand.

  “I can’t yet, but that’s not the problem. There’s been a complication...Gemma, I can’t tell you any of this. Please believe me, if I could I would, but I can’t. I really can’t.”

  She took deep breath in before gave a quick nod and waited while he opened the door to peer out. He took a step out into the corridor and motioned that it was clear for her to leave. She stepped out of the doorway and walked quickly towards her room. She heard Aaron’s door click shut even before she had reached her own.

  She stumbled inside and closed the door quickly, her chest heaving unsteadily. Something was seriously wrong. It clearly involved Aaron’s work. He would never have called anyone else ‘Sir’ if it hadn’t been to do with the services.

  She walked into her wet room and tore off his shirt, hesitating for long seconds afterwards as she stood naked. She could smell him on her body, his spicy cologne and their mixed passion. The night had seemed to last forever. It seemed that he had taken her countless times, their need unquenchable, their mutual desire unstoppable. She had only slipped into a deep sleep just as the birds began to sing, and dawn crept over the horizon.

  She pressed her fingertips to her lips and then turned to look in the mirror. They were deep red and swollen, the evidence of their mutual desire. Even in the half light of his room she had seen his were swollen too. She hadn’t held anything back; she had kissed him with as much fervour as he had kissed her.

  She stepped into the shower and stood beneath the deluge of warm spray. Her skin tingled under the heated water and she wondered if there was anywhere on her body that the rasp of his stubble hadn’t touched.

  She washed her hair and soaped all over. The trails of bubbles floated over the tiles and towards the plug, carrying away the last of her night of passion with the man she loved.

  The words caught at her heart and she felt something akin to pain settle over her. She hadn’t said the words to him and he hadn’t said them to her, but the way he had taken her couldn’t have been just sex. There was no way that a man could put that much emotion into the act if it wasn’t more. His achingly long thrusts while he whispered tender words into her ear had to have meant more, surely. She felt a tear slip from the corner of her eye as she recalled his plea as she left his room.

  Could she trust him? She wante
d to, but there had been something in the way he had spoken to the person on the phone and in the way his whole face had suddenly become expressionless that she didn’t like. It had sounded as though he was going away. Back to work? Back to frontline flying? She placed her hand over her stomach as it flip-flopped wildly at the thought of all the possible dangers, but then reason took over again and she quickly calmed. It couldn’t be that right now, his hand wasn’t healed well enough.

  Something to do with the investigation then? It had to be. Maybe he had received bad news. She turned the shower off as she began to feel sick. The enquiry was probably over and from his expression there had clearly not been a favourable outcome. Her mind ran over all the possibilities, but the investigators were thorough; evidence couldn’t be hidden that easily. Maybe he had lied about the crash. Maybe it really had been his fault. Her vision blurred and her knees grew weak. She slipped towards the floor.

  If he’d lied about that event he could have lied about so many others. He could have been lying to her about thinking her beautiful. She dashed the tears away from her eyes as she looked down at the ugly stump of an arm at her side.

  Of course he’d lied. He just wanted to get you into bed, you fool.

  Men did it all the time. Sex didn’t mean the same thing to them as to women. They seemed able to cut off any emotional attachment just because the act gave them momentary release. Her lack of an arm wouldn’t have stopped a lot of men. She had been kidding herself, hoping that he was as emotionally affected by her as she had been by him.

  Her breathing shallowed and she shivered as her body and her heart grew cold. The tiles beneath her felt icy and she dragged herself up from the floor slowly and stumbled out of the wet-room and back towards her bed.