by Jillian Neal
He grinned at that. “My stubborn girl. It kills me that you thought for even a moment that you were anything but beautiful.”
She’d always been stubborn. She’d never really been beautiful, but until the moment she’d run from the church the day before, she hadn’t really been his either. She loved that way too much. When he finally figured out that they’d be better off as friends, it was going to hurt worse than the burns. She shook that off. “Anyway, every day she taught me harder and more intricate braids. I was so determined to learn them. It felt like…” she shook her head at the remembrances.
“Like what, angel?”
“Like if I could figure out just the right way to braid all of the ribbons and all of my hair into something kind of pretty that maybe I could say and do all the right things so…I could put my family back together too,” she choked.
Before the last word left her lips, she was right back in the solid sanctuary of his arms. “That wasn’t your job, baby,” he soothed as he planted kisses on her head. “You’ve spent your whole life putting everyone else back together. Let me take care of you for a change.”
Charlie wasn’t certain what that would look like, what exactly Jamie had in mind. But with everything she’d just confessed she felt lighter just then. Strong enough that the tiniest light of possibility began to shimmer under all of the weight. She wanted to give this a chance. She wanted to stop being afraid, so she nodded. “Okay, but I want to take care of you too.”
“You’ve been taking care of me since sixth grade. It’s my turn now.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Look at me,” Jamie coaxed. When she lifted her head, he caught her pensive stare with his own. “Keep your eyes right here on mine. I want you to know I mean every word I’m about to say. As soon as you give me the okay, I’m going to take your shirt off, and there is not one single scar or marking or skin graft damage that is going to make me not want to carry you into that shower and prove to you just how fucking beautiful you are. Do you understand that?” She managed a nod. “Good. You ready?” This time she shook her head, and he let his hands pause in their work.
“I’m never going to be ready, so just do it,” she urged.
It fucking killed him that she was so caught up in whatever he was about to uncover. She’d been left in a burn center alone. She’d never dealt with it. If he could’ve gotten away with it, he would’ve strung Reverend Tilson up on a pole and taken a switch to his ass. “I’ll go slow,” he soothed. He reminded himself that her father had just lost his wife and had two injured kids, so he was obviously overwhelmed, but Jamie still wasn’t feeling all that forgiving.
“You used to always say patience wasn’t your virtue,” she reminded him.
“I get what this has to be costing you, so I’m doing my best.” He inched the shirt up exposing her belly. He could just make out the rough patches of skin on her right side. Suddenly, she took over for him. Maybe she didn’t like his patience, or maybe she was just finally seeing how good they could be together if she’d give them a shot.
With a great deal of determination, she pulled the shirt up over her head and tossed it on the counter. And now, she was refusing to really look at him.
Truthfully, Jamie appreciated the moment to take it all in. It was much worse than he’d ever envisioned. None of it made him think she was any less beautiful or any less sexy, but the pain she had to have endured sucker punched him. He was a firefighter for fuck’s sake. He’d seen burns before. But hers were the worst he’d encountered. Puckered knots roped up her side under the thinned, pockmarked skin. The skin graft scars ran the length of the perimeter of the burns that had also mangled the side of her right breast.
“Please say something,” she demanded.
Fuck. How long had he been standing there staring at her? Nice move, asshat. “First off, there is nothing about scars that makes you not the most beautiful woman in the world to me. Every square inch of your skin is perfect because it’s yours. I do have some questions though.”
She finally stared him down. Every single thing about her said she didn’t believe a word he’d just said. “Ask me.”
“Does it hurt if I touch your side?”
“Not really. There was a lot of nerve damage, so I don’t feel much over there.” She instinctively moved her right arm forward slightly to cover the damage to her breast. Jamie traced his fingertips over the top swell and her nipple. “Just wanted to make sure.”
Her eyes goggled and she leapt back.
“You okay?” He had a feeling he knew why she’d reacted that way, but he needed her to say it.
“Uh…kind of.”
“Do you not want me to touch you, honey?”
She considered that for two heartbeats too long, but again he tried to be patient. “It’s not that. It’s just that no one other than doctors ever have. I’m not sure I know how to react. Even I avoid touching the scars.”
“I don’t want to avoid touching any part of you, as long as it doesn’t hurt you.”
“How is this not turning you off?” she finally demanded.
“You’re standing in front of me shirtless, angel. Why the hell would that turn me off?” He took her hand and brought it back to the bulge in his underwear.
Confusion now rode hard in her eyes. “But this isn’t how I’m supposed to look. No one’s supposed to look like this.”
“You’re not supposed to look like you survived?” he challenged.
She was going to test him, and he was determined to pass every single trial. “My boob is dimpled and scarred and awful and the two of them aren’t even the same size.”
“No one’s are.”
“What?”
“Okay, I generally make it a policy not to discuss my somewhat sordid past with you or with other women, but I’ve had my hands up a fair number of blouses, and none of them are exactly the same size unless they’re fake. It’s part of the fun.”
She ground her teeth. “It’s part of the fun?” Each word came out like scatter shot from a .22.
He dodged the pellets with ease. “Yeah. Your tits are perfect because they’re yours, and they’re about to have my hands and my cum all over them. I want to know every single eccentricity you have. I want to learn your body. I want to know your preferences, and I want to feel every sexy-as-sin curve. I wish you knew even half of the times I’ve dreamed about being naked with you, getting in a shower with you, getting inside of you. Nothing about those scars changes how fucking bad I want to be the guy who gets to see you like this.”
“You are seeing me like this.”
“I know. I still feel kinda like this is the best damn dream I’ve ever had, and I’m afraid I’m about to wake up from it.”
That at least got a little bit of a smile. “Thanks for being so great about it.”
“Honey, I don’t know who made you think that it’s some kind of sacrifice on their part to be with you like this, but if I ever meet them, I’m going after them with a hose.”
Some part of Charlie knew that Jamie would never react the way her past boyfriends had, but the relief was heady. It brought fresh air to her lungs. She wanted to really see what it would be like to climb in that shower with him and flirt and feel and do things she’d never given herself the opportunity to experience before.
Riding high on that wave of assurance and praying they didn’t crash on the shoreline, she slipped her jeans and panties off all at once. Confidence coursed through her. She barely recognized it.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Jamie half grunted and half growled.
She would always regret that she’d never heard him use that tone before until yesterday. It was wholly unfair that he could sound so utterly sexy, and she’d never known.
He shucked off his underwear and then gave her a sinfully cocky chuckle when her eyes zeroed in on his package. She hadn’t really gotten to study it the night before the way she wanted. Thick veins protruded from his blood-engorged cock leading her eye
s to his crown. He rose proudly out of a thatch of hair at his base, a technicolor display of male pride in the satisfaction he knew he could offer. Every part of her, the scarred and the unscarred, knew he could satisfy the needy ache she had between her legs. Perhaps, it was just a need to be so full of him she no longer worried about not being enough for everyone else.
“Like what you see there, honey?” Jamie teased.
“Shut up.” She giggled.
“Oh, I don’t think so. I plan on getting a sign made to put up at home all about how much you love my junk just so everyone knows.”
She rolled her eyes at that and headed for the shower doors. As she whisked by him, he popped her backside. She spun around with her mouth hanging open. She wasn’t certain which surprised her more—that he’d done that or that she’d liked it. It spoke to the cravings she carried deep within her to be with someone who wouldn’t worry about being careful with her because of the scars. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m just testing out a theory.”
“And what theory might that be?”
“I’ll tell you later.” He opened the door to the shower and followed her inside.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Her right butt cheek was slightly pink from his hand. That pleased him more than it should. Jamie stepped into the shower behind her. He swore Charlie with clouds of steam billowing around her looked like an angel stepping down from heaven to rescue him from his shitty existence.
He wrapped his arms around her and eased them under the rush of warm water. She melted into his arms, burying her face against his neck. Perfection. “So fucking beautiful,” he spoke directly into her ear, hoping the words would make their way to her heart. She tightened her hold. His cock was an iron spike between them pressed to her belly and slick from the warm water and his own hunger.
When her hands began a thorough exploration of his back and then his ass, a low rumbled growl triggered from his gut.
She lifted her head and gave him a mischievous little smirk. “I had no idea you were so growly.”
“I get all kinds of animalistic when your hands are on me. You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you over my shoulder and taken you back to my cave.” Intrigue flared in her eyes, and he shuddered from the throb of need it elicited. “Or would you like that, angel? Like me to steal you away and take what I want?”
That only earned him a deeper smirk. If pictures were worth a thousand words, that little motion of her mouth had to be worth a cool million. He dove in and captured it with his lips before she could take it away. It was his.
His tongue dove past the barriers of her lips, tasting her, devouring her. He braced one hand on her ass drawing her even closer and let the other trace gently up her left side. A full body shiver coursed through her as he worshiped the untouched portions of her body. The water rushed over his face as he lowered his head to tease her nipple with his tongue. Fuck air. Fuck every single life-giving thing that wasn’t her. He didn’t care. He’d drown to have this. Catching her right breast with his palm, he worked her left nipple with easy suckles and then yearning pulls until both were turgid with want.
A choked moan broke from her chest. Her fingers dove through his hair in an effort to hold him to her breast. It was unnecessary but sexy as hell. When she bucked against him trying to bring her hungry pussy to his cock, he roared against her flesh before lifting his head. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel? So sensitive for me. You kept these needy parts of yourself away from me last night. I can’t take care of you the way I’m determined to when you do that.” He moved to her right breast and let his hand take over on the other. He grazed the puckered skin gently with his fingertips trying to get her accustomed to his touch there, wishing he could physically pour love through the skin that had been broken.
“Jamie, please,” finally reached his ears. He swore he could get off on listening to her beg.
Again he lifted his head. “It makes you wet when I suck those sweet titties, doesn’t it, angel?” Her head fell back against the tile wall. Her body rolled with the need. “Tell me,” he urged. “Tell me how much it turns you on.”
“Yes,” she finally whimpered. “Now, please.”
Sweet baby wasn’t going to be too forthcoming with just how good that felt. He wanted her to acknowledge it, but not nearly as badly as he wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and slam himself so deep inside of her she’d feel him coming for the rest of their week.
As he traced and teased his way down her midsection on a direct course to that needy slip of heaven between her legs, she flipped the script on him entirely.
Her hand wrapped around his length. He throbbed against her palm. Her lips parted on a moan.
“Fuck,” huffed from him as she took an exploratory pull from his root to his tip. So caught up in her touch, he did nothing but watch her as she traced the thickened veins that ran the length of him.
“I want to know,” she whispered so low he almost didn’t make it out over the roar of the water.
“What, baby? Tell me.” He wanted to be the answer to whatever it was she needed to understand. Her fingers tightened along his shaft and then fanned at his crown, driving him wild. She seemed to have gotten lost in her research of his cock. “Charlie, sweetheart. Tell me what you need to know before I bury that so fucking deep inside your tender pussy you can’t walk.”
Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she studied him. “What do you think about?” she asked with only slightly more volume. He waited. His only thoughts were on how fucking good this hand job felt. What she lacked in experience she was more than making up for in exuberance. She stopped her work, and he fought not to demand that she get back to it. “If I let you steal me away to your cave, I want to know what you’d do with me.”
His mind scrambled. The truth would likely scare the hell out of his mostly innocent angel. Plus, he wasn’t able to think beyond his desperation to have her. When he didn’t respond, she kept going. “You said you’d thought about us like this. I want to know what kinds of things you think about. I need to know.” She stroked him with more vigor now, drawing the confession from him with divine torture. His angel transformed into a vixen before his very eyes.
The sexiest fantasy he had was the one of her being his. Of them walking through town and everyone knowing she was Mrs. Jamie Holder. That she would never want for anything and that she was more than satisfied every fucking night. His balls drew up tight and hot thinking about her waltzing into the fire station with a smirk on her face and a rubbed ache in her panties from what he’d given her the night before.
But that wasn’t what she wanted to hear so he let his mind turn to a darker, more depraved place. Suddenly, the absolute truth was the only option because he didn’t have the brain capacity to lie. “It’s dirty.” His warning was ragged and rough.
“Good.”
Damn. “Your panties are sweet and innocent, but they’re so wet I can see through them,” he groaned out. Somehow her tremble shook through his balls and made him see stars.
“What else?” Her words came out in pants of breath.
“You hurt with need. You fucking tell me that.” Everything in him knew he needed to stop. She wasn’t ready for this kind of shit. But she slipped her hand up and down his length faster now. Jesus, if she didn’t stop he was gonna unload all over her fingers. His eyes closed as he let the fantasy fully form in his mind. “You need me,” he grunted. “Need me to make it feel better. Need me to show you where only I know it hurts.”
“Oh god. More.” Her breath mixed with the heat of the shower as it encapsulated them.
“Yeah, angel. That’s it. You beg for me just like that. You beg for me to take you how I want.” He wrapped his hand around hers, pressing her tighter to his cock and showing her how he liked to be jacked. Her eyes goggled at his force. “Oh honey, there’s so much you don’t know, isn’t there? Your pussy’s ‘bout a million times tighter than my fist. So hot and
wet. Nursing at my cock. Feels so fucking good I’ll never be able to get myself off to thoughts of you again. I’ll have to come get the real deal. Nothing else will ever feel like you do.”
“Then fuck me,” she urged frantically.
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He released her hand and stroked the tender auburn curls soaked from the shower water but slick from her own need. She shuddered between him and the wall. “Spread your legs for me, angel. Let me get you ready. ‘Cause I’m ten country miles past the ability to be gentle with you.”
“Good.” She widened her stance, and he dipped his finger deep in one smooth pass. He loved that little gasp she made when he entered her, loved that she’d add a groan to the gasp when he replaced his fingers with his cock. Loved everything about this. Loved her.
That realization might’ve frightened lesser men off, but he’d known for two decades that he loved her. Surely, she knew that too.
He circled his thumb gently over her clit until it peeked out, needy for his love. “Feels good when I touch right there, doesn’t it, baby?”
“Yes,” she whimpered. “So good.”
Now they were getting somewhere. Slippery need coated his knuckles and thumb, driving him wild. Her body continued to pull at his fingers, anxious for more. “Gonna feel even better when I keep teasing that naughty little spot while I fill you so full you’re overflowing. Tell me you’re ready.”