Scarred Beautiful (32 page)

“This feels so good,” she says, arching her head back, her hair a wet canvas against my chest.

“
You
feel so good,” I whisper, resting my lips near her ear, sucking her lobe into my mouth, and she makes one of her plethora of sexy noises that drive me wild. “So I was thinking about something earlier,” I continue, cupping handfuls of water and dripping them onto her arm, “we’ve gotten to know each other backwards.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, most people learn the basics first, but we learned the deep stuff. So now I want to know some of the basic stuff. Actually, I want to know everything, but we can start with the basics.”

“Okay,” she replies, and there’s a smile in her voice. “Shoot.”

“Favorite Band or singer?” I ask, as my fingers mesh with hers.

“Hmph…that’s a tough one, you know how much I love music. Hmph,” she says again, as if I’ve stumped her. “Okay, favorite band is Parachute. Favorite singer is James Morrison. You?” she questions, and her excited tone tells me she likes this game.

“Coldplay for the band and Tyrone Wells for the singer/songwriter.”

I hook my legs over hers and reach for the sponge with my free hand, dipping it in the tub to soak it with water. “What’s your favorite book?”

“You’re asking some difficult questions.” She laughs, and the happy sound vibrates through my chest. “It’s hard to choose just one because I have so many. But if I have to, I’d say “The Edge of Never” by J.A. Redmerski. What about you?”

“That’s a great name for a book.” I smooth the sponge over her breasts, watching the crests stiffen just above the water and I have a sudden urge to taste them. “I don’t read that many books unless it has to do with architecture, but I do like to read
The New York Times
.”

“Figures,” she mumbles, and I playfully poke her in the ribs, discovering just how ticklish she is and making a mental note. It could come in handy. She dunks our fingers in the water and lifts them back out. “Okay, favorite food?”

“Pizza with pepperoni and broccoli and chocolate cream pie for dessert.”

“Hey!” she declares. “Pizza’s my favorite, too, but with just pepperoni and I’ll take a box of Devil Dogs for dessert.”

“Devil dogs? Do they still make those chemically infested treats?” I laugh and she pivots to fire a glare my way. “My turn, feisty. Let’s see…favorite place in the whole world?”

“That’s easy,” she replies confidently, “the beach. Yours?”

“That’s easy,” I repeat her sentiment but something catches in my throat and my voice becomes a strangled echo. “Right here, right now.” And then I realize why—I mean every word. Being with her is no less than fucking perfect, and I want to breathe this moment in, mark it like a page in one of her novels so I can go back to it over and over whenever I need it.

She angles her head slightly and I catch her lips, pushing them apart so I can dive in, find her tongue, and drown in her. It doesn’t last long because she pulls back from the kiss and flips around so she’s straddling me.

Her hands come up to cradle my face, her lips sweeping over mine while her tongue forces me open. I love her tongue. It’s sweet and wet, and as she circles it around mine, I groan low and deep. My fingers move to her full breasts and I thumb her nipples in a slow, lazy rhythm as she begins to grind against my cock, moaning heavily, and she stiffens under my touch.

Heavy breaths fall as she pulls away from my mouth. Her eyes finally fix on mine and for a moment, time stands still and words don’t exist, our panting the only sound amidst the silence.

I palm her cheek and she leans into me. “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” I place my other hand over her heart. “So, so sweet.”

“Matt,” she says hoarsely, “I want—”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” My fingers disappear under the water and I find her clit, massaging her over and over again until she lets out a jagged whimper.

“I want you to make…I want to feel you inside of me, I want you to fuck me.”

I spring up from the water and grab Fran under her knees, making waves that splash over the side of the tub. She winds her arms around my neck and I carefully step out, managing to avoid us falling flat on our asses.

“What are you doing?” she yelps and laughs at the same time, and I yank a couple of towels off the rack as I lead us out to the bedroom. “We’re soaking wet!”

“Yup,” I reply, “I like you soaking wet.” I trek over to the bed and keep a hold of Fran with one arm, while I throw the duvet off the bed with the other before dropping the towels on the sheets.

“You’re completely insane,” she says through her giggles, and if I am, it’s because I’ve never felt freer than I do when I’m with her.

I lay her down, all traces of humor gone from my face as I climb over her. Her laughter is gone, too, replaced by anticipation, her heart beating erratically, a flush of desire pinking her cheeks.

With my arms on either side of her, I inch my way up her body, pushing lightly on top of her. I start with her face, smothering it with the press of my lips to her skin, her sweet taste on my tongue making me want more. The arch of her neck calls to me and I inhale that familiar scent of jasmine as I slide my tongue down further until I reach her nipples, warm and wet from the bath. I lick first one nipple then the other until they harden into tight buds, circling my nose around them as she lets out a loud moan and spreads her legs further, drawing me closer.

“Matt, you’re so hard.” She expels a ragged breath as she lifts her hips to mine.

“God, sunshine, that’s how much I want you.”

And now I just can’t wait anymore.

Without breaking our contact, I lean over and pull out a condom from my wallet, and when it’s securely on, I turn back to Fran. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.”

I reach between us to grab hold of my cock and she puts her hand over mine. “Let me do it,” she says on a moan, gripping me, rubbing the tip against her clit, and I hold in a breath when my finger brushes her slit and I feel how drenched she is. She eases me inside, teasing me, pushing me in and pulling me out, until my cock thickens and our bodies are thrumming, a steady stream of whimpers falling from our lips.

When I’m finally all the way inside, I start moving, her legs urging me deeper, her muted sounds of pleasure making me rock into her harder. I cover her lips with mine, kissing her passionately while she grabs my ass and shows me just how much she wants me.

“Jesus, Fran, your pussy feels fucking amazing. I love being inside of you,” I murmur against her lips.

“Matt, oh, God, Matt,” she moans, and her muscles clench tighter around my cock at the same time her nails dig into my biceps, telling me she’s close.

“I want to hear you when you come, Fran. Let me hear you,” I groan, and I lower my head to suck hard on her nipple, biting and licking the stiff peak as I fuck her faster, wanting to drive her to orgasm.

“Matt,” she screams out, “Matt!” And then shudders rack her body as she explodes around me, burying her face in my chest, pulling me in tighter before she collapses back.

I push up on my hands and give her everything I have of myself, a tidal wave of emotion ripping through me as I thrust into her, my neck corded tight, the tension inside me building higher. Sweat glides down my skin as I rock into her one final time and then flood her insides, my whole body trembling with my release, Fran’s name spilling from my lips. I nuzzle my face into her neck, breathing her in, letting her warmth and her calming scent bring me down, slow my heartbeat.

As I come down from this feeling of being drugged, this euphoria unlike anything I’ve ever felt before—how do I even begin to explain to her what I feel right now? That was the best sex I’ve ever had.

Only sex is not the right word. I’m just not sure I know what the right word is.

We’ve been lying in bed for hours, a tangle of limbs, Matt’s fingertips drawing patterns lightly on my back. Every part of our bodies is connected, my arm draped over his chest, my leg twisted with his, my breast grazing his skin.

I feel like I’m floating on a cloud, like I’m an observer in my own life, looking down on this girl I don’t recognize though she seems oddly familiar. She’s the girl in Kindergarten who wore her faded purple pants and held her head high when all the other little girls were wearing pretty dresses, because she didn’t care what everyone else thought…because she loved the new pants that her mom worked so hard to buy her. That was the girl before: before Daddy started coming into her room, before Kyle died, before her world went dark.

But I’m not the girl
after
anymore. My world isn’t shielded in blackness and it no longer feels like I’m drowning, fighting to breathe, struggling to live. It’s as if I’ve been awakened from a long sleep, but not a peaceful one, one that was filled with horrific things that little girls should never have to go through…
ever
.

But all that’s behind me now, because a warm breeze blew in and whispered to me, tapped me on the shoulder, spoke to me silently. “Do you want to live?” the voice said, and in the next instant, it whispered, “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” that same voice says now, bringing me back to reality.

A peaceful sigh tumbles from my mouth, landing on Matt’s sculpted chest. “I was just thinking about how happy I am right now.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says softly, kissing my hair while I inhale his masculine scent, making my skin prickle.

“You cold?” he asks, and even though I say no, he still pulls the covers up so he can make sure I’m not.

“So can I ask you something? It may seem like a strange time for me to ask, but….” He hesitates, if only for a second. “What happened to that special person you told me about on the beach?”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, and surprisingly it is. “Kyle and I…we went away to Hawaii for a week and we’d gone swimming.” I pause and take a deep breath. “Most of my memory is hazy from there, but I remember being pulled under and when I woke up on the shore…he was gone. He drowned…they never did find his body.”

“Oh, Fran.” He holds me tighter in his arms. “I don’t think it’s enough, but I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay now.” I curl into his side, pressing my cheek against his warmth. “He didn’t really love the beach, oddly enough, but I did, and I know this is going to sound bizarre, but he’s at peace in my favorite place. It took me a while to get to this point, but now I can finally stand in front of the ocean and smile because I know he’s out there.”

Matt lifts my chin, restraining me with a sincere gaze. “And in the end you know he was happy, because he died loving
you
.”

My words are gone, as is my breath, the brevity of his words making my heart stutter as I try to decipher the code, the true meaning behind them.

His lips seek out mine and it’s not crazed and frantic, but soft and gentle as if a butterfly landed on my lips. A teardrop cascades down my cheek, mixing the salt with the sweetness of our kiss, my favorite combination.

The kiss fades to a simple brush of our lips and into a smile from Matt, and I smile, too, before my eyelids feel heavy and I drift off into a peaceful sleep.

“I know we barely got any sleep last night, but I’m planning on taking you to Long Beach today. It’s such an eclectic place and I really want to share it with you.”

“Oh you think so, do you?” I joke, skimming my nose down the curve of his jaw.

“Oh, I know so,” he replies, before flipping me over and pinning me underneath him, his morning arousal awake and ready to start the day.

“Hmmm,” I whimper, “I like the way you say good morning.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he says, before his voice becomes muffled and his lips leave a burning trail over every inch of my skin, until I’m writhing underneath him.

“Matt,” I murmur breathless, clutching his hair, trying to get his attention. “I need you inside me….”

His head lifts with a sexy, lopsided grin, and he lunges for his wallet on the table to pull out another condom. He rolls it on, sliding inside me effortlessly, the only noise a tiny gasp when he enters me. His hands reach for mine and he pushes them above my head, lacing our fingers together as he rocks into me. There are no loud moans, no strained whimpers, and no heavy breaths. Only our eyes are communicating, saying things that our lips and our hearts can’t.