Beautifully Damaged (8 page)

Yes, I'm at Pulse but I'm ready to go.

Pulse? By yourself?

No, Lena and Todd are here.

I'm on my way. Stay with your friend.

A shiver of foreboding worked its way down my spine as I looked around the place. The lights were dim so it was hard to see around but I was definitely getting a creepy vibe. Moments later, Todd appeared, red-faced and angry.

Let's go, babe."

Babe? I knew Lena hated endearments like that but when she made no attempt to correct him I felt disgust and then Todd turned to me.

"You coming?"

"No, babe, but thanks."

I didn't miss the flare of temper that burned in his eyes but then he shrugged and started pulling Lena away. And Lena, never gave me a backwards glance, as she obediently followed after him. Nice.

So, there I was alone in this creepy-ass place. I wondered how far away Trace was and was going to text him but then I noticed a few guys at the bar, leering at me. It wasn't my looks, or lack there of, it was the fact that I was female and alone. I was like roadkill and these guys were the vultures.

I wasn't sure if I should leave because the surrounding neighborhood was a bit scary, or should I stay and be a sitting duck? I decided to go to the restrooms and lock myself in until Trace arrived. I stood and made my way through the crowds when a shadow fell upon me and I looked up into very black eyes.

"Hello, there. What have we here? Aren't you a sweet, little thing."

"Excuse me," I muttered and tried to move away but his hand on my arm stayed that action.

"Where's the fire, sweetheart? Let's get to know each other."

"No, thank you."

"Oh, come on, don't break my heart."

"I really have to go."

He moved then, pushing me up against the wall, pinning me there with his large body.

"I just want a taste."

I could smell the beer on his breath and the hard length of him against my stomach. My fear turned me numb. I tried to push him away but that was as effective as the big bad wolf trying to blow down that brick house. His fingers tangled in my hair and his breath brushed over my cheek. "Maybe you'll like it."

He lowered his head but I turned my head, right before his lips touched mine, causing him to press a kiss into my hair. I felt as his fingers tightened on my scalp as he turned my head to hold me steady.

"Just one kiss."

Panic brought my foot down on his instep harder than I planned but the act forced him to release me as he howled in pain. His eyes returned to mine and I saw the violence burning in their black depths. He lifted his hand, curling his fingers into a fist but before he could release the punch a hand came out of no where and grabbed it, yanking him back so hard that I heard the pop of his shoulder.

"Fuck!" he howled, as he stumbled to his knees in pain. When he looked up I saw fear in his eyes as Trace came to stand just in front of him.

"You dislocated my fuckin' shoulder."

Pain was making his voice higher pitched but Trace watched him completely unmoved and when he spoke his voice was devoid of all emotion.

"Forcing yourself on a woman is bad enough but hitting a woman is inexcusable." And without further adieu Trace moved, with astounding speed, and plowed his fist into the man's face in a quick succession of five before the man dropped into a dead faint. Trace's eyes found mine and were burning with temper.

"I told you to stay with your friend."

"They left."

"Son of a bitch," he growled.

I felt the tears pricking my eyes just as my body started to shake. Faster than would seem possible, Trace was there, wrapping me in his arms. His heart was pounding in his chest, his body rigid and tense, but his embrace was warm. In the back of my mind I had the sense that this hug was just as much to comfort him as it was for me.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"You don't belong in this place. Your friends are assholes." I could hear the anger returning to his voice. I wondered what it was about this place that Trace objected to, outside of the obvious. He was right though I didn't belong here and had it not been for my spineless roommate and her jackass boyfriend, I wouldn't be.

He pulled back and looked down at me. I lifted my eyes to his and offered a heart-felt, "Thank you."

Even though his eyes were still burning with temper, there was a slight tug on his lips when he replied, "Rescuing you seems to be turning into a habit."

He held my gaze when he asked, "Are you still up for going out?"

"Yes."

He reached for my hand, linked our fingers and pulled me from the place. Once we were on his bike, cruising down the street, I rested my cheek against his back as I trembled just thinking about that man with his hands on me. Trace saved me again and just in the nick of time. He really was like my own inked guardian angel.

We arrived at a small club as Trace parked and waited for me to climb off. He reached for my hand and led me inside and once we were seated his eyes found mine.

"Are you okay?"

"I am, now."

He leaned back in his chair but I didn't miss the clenching of his jaw and then he said, "I'm trying to do the right thing here, Ember."

I leaned up and rested my elbows on the table and asked, "What does that mean?"

His eyes never left mine when he said, "I want you but I don't want to want you."

I couldn't describe the emotions that burned through me in response to that comment. There was delight, shock and hurt to name a few. My voice wasn't quite steady when I offered, "I understand."

He tilted his head before he asked, "What is it that you understand, Ember?"

I felt the blush so I lowered my head before I replied, "You are so out of my league."

His thumb touched my chin as he lifted my gaze to his and when I looked into his eyes the emotions I saw burning in them were unfathomable.

"I'm the one who falls way short, Ember, not you."

I held his gaze and offered, "For the record, I want you, too."

His eyes flashed but he said nothing and then stood and reached for my hand. My eyes moved to our joined hands and up his inked arm to his face. His voice was so very soft when he whispered, "Dance with me."

I didn't have to think on that as I allowed him to pull me onto the floor. James Blunt's
You're Beautiful
was playing as Trace turned me to him and pulled me close so that our bodies were pressed together from chest to thigh. His arm came around my waist pulling me even closer against his hard body, while the hand that held mine came to rest over his heart. His eyes were dark and filled with secrets but it was the look burning in them that had my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Our bodies swayed ever so gently and his grip on me never eased as if he was trying to absorb me into him. As the song came to an end he lowered his head so his lips were right near my ear and he sang along softly.

You're beautiful. It's true.

There must be an angel with a smile on her face.

When she thought up that I should be with you.

But it's time to face the truth,

I'm never going to be with you.

I closed my eyes as unfathomable emotions rocked me. It was instinct, and a deep want that had me turning my head to press my lips to his neck. My lips lingering until the song was over. His thumb touched my chin and lifted my gaze to his.

"I'm not good for you, Ember, but I can't seem to stay away from you, either."

His hands moved up to frame my face just as his mouth captured mine. He tilted my head as he took the kiss deeper and it was the most carnal kiss I'd ever experienced. I felt as my bones melted and though I suspected I was about to spontaneously combust from the heat burning through me, I knew I would die a happy woman. With effort he pulled away from me but his thumb reached up to brush over my lower lip and his eyes followed the progress. He finally lifted those eyes to mine and I saw what I was feeling looking back at me. He pulled me against him and held me there for a good long time.

I was floating on cloud nine as I made my way to Starbucks after my run. My thoughts were completely on Trace and I knew as I thought of him that I had a goofy smile on my face but I couldn't help it. I was happy -- really, really happy. I reached Starbucks and ordered my coffee. I was about to hand the woman a twenty when suddenly a hand appeared which was attached to an arm that, though covered, I recognized immediately.

"My treat."

The goosebumps were completely involuntary as was the small hitch in my breathing when I turned to see Trace standing there.

"Hello, Ember."

"Trace!" Seeing him had a warmth burning through me as my heart skipped a few beats. He waited for me to add cream to my coffee before he held the door for me. He fell into step at my side but I imagined we made quite a funny picture since he is a foot taller than me.

"Thanks for the coffee," I said as I eyed him from over my cup. His head turned in my direction and our eyes met and held. He didn't say a word, but his eyes were saying plenty, and then he asked, "Did you run this morning?"

"Yes. I run so I can feed my cake-pop habit."

A grin flirted around his lips as he looked down at me and, dear god, it was amazing that my brain could even hold onto a thought looking at such masculine beauty. I could see only a part of his back tattoo, the section that moved up his neck to his hairline, and I wanted to run my tongue along those scroll lines. I wanted to do that more than I wanted another cake-pop.

I blushed but not as much as when my eyes returned to his to see that he was watching me closely. I wanted to kiss him, wanted to throw myself into his arms and feel those lips on mine again. I didn't though because I sensed that Trace had an internal struggle going on. Like he said the previous night, he wanted me but he didn't want to want me. So instead of picking his brain to find out what he was thinking I instead asked, "What is that on your back?"

"Celtic symbols."

"Does it hurt?"

"Tattoos?"

"Yeah."

"Irritating but not necessarily painful." His lips turned up on one side before he asked, "Are you inked?"

I almost choked on my coffee with that question before I offered rather weakly, "No, it's so permanent. I'd only do it if I knew with absolute certainty that what I wanted done I'd want forever. How often is anyone that sure?"

"It's just as well. You have beautiful skin, Ember. It would be a crime for you to mark it."

I blushed at his words, which made him smile, before I asked, "Can I see the tat on your arm?"

I knew I threw him with that question but he recovered quickly before agreeing.

He reached for my hand and pulled me from the sidewalk to the shade of a tree before he took off his jacket and pulled his t-shirt sleeve up over his shoulder. My mouth went dry watching the play of his muscles from that simple act. I handed my cup to him before I took his arm in both of my hands and really studied the scene.

Hades was depicted as half-monster/half-man, sitting upon his throne, naked and aroused. Above him, angels flew but they were in one of three poses: hear no evil, see no evil and speak no evil. Below him were bodies, elongated and distorted, like the masked dude from
Scream
. They were climbing on and clawing at each other trying to escape the pit. The entire scene was surrounded with fire: brilliant orange, red and yellow flames that looked to be dancing up his arm. I ran my finger over one particular flame that started out red but faded to orange and then to yellow as it grew; the transition was seamless and the work was so flawlessly executed.

"It's beautiful. How long did it take?"

He didn't answer me so I looked up and when I did it was into dark eyes that were watching me with such intensity it had my heart flipping over in my chest.

"Twelve hours."

I was so enthralled with the look in his eyes that it took me a minute to realize that he had answered me. Even when I realized that he had, I made no move away from him since it was as if I was locked there, held firmly in place by the emotions I saw burning in those eyes.

I realized I was still holding his arm, and as much as it pained me to let it go, to lose that physical connection with him, I reluctantly released it and took a step back. A moment or two passed when we just stared at each other and then a loud honk of a horn seemed to bring us back to reality as he handed me my coffee before he slipped on his jacket.

"Are you heading home?"

"Yes."

"How's the roommate?" He studied me for a moment before he offered, "That good?"

"My dad warned me of some things and sadly I've been witnessing first hand just how right he was. I'm just surprised that I hadn't seen them before."

"What -- that your friend isn't much of a friend?"

My eyes widened at that as I looked up at him. "Yeah, exactly that."

"She's jealous of you."

I took a sip of my coffee as I pondered his comment. "No, I don't think so."

"She's jealous and she has every reason to be from where I'm standing."

I couldn't deny the delicious thrill that his very matter-of-fact comment stirred in me but I wasn't as convinced. He seemed to know where my thoughts were when he added, "If I met your friend and she brought me home and I saw you -- no contest. She probably knows that, too."

"Well, I suspect you take repeated punches to the head so maybe it's not all working right up there."

His grin was wicked as he lowered his head so his lips could brush over my ear.

"I have a secret -- want to hear it?"

I was breathless having him so close to me so could only answer by nodding my head.

His breath was warm against my skin, tickling my ear causing goosebumps to rise on my flesh, and when he spoke it was just barely over a whisper, "I have a really hard head." And then he pressed a kiss just above my ear before he pulled back and grinned. I spoke what I was thinking.

"I might swoon."