She smirks and refuses to answer.
I bend down and nuzzle her ear, causing her to squirm. “Admit it… I made you hot and bothered, and you want nothing more than for me to take you to bed right now.”
Jenna snorts, and I chuckle. My mouth moves to hers for a long, slow kiss. Jenna sighs in pleasure, and her body yields.
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I proclaim smugly.
“I’m not going to argue,” she replies.
I take her hand and pull her through the living room and down the hall to the master suite. She follows willingly, which is fitting, because I would gladly follow her anywhere.
My bedroom is exactly as I left it this morning. Sheets and blankets rumpled from last night. The single bedside lamp glowing, shining like a beacon on the bed where we’ll end up.
I turn around and pull Jenna into me, putting my mouth on hers for a ravaging kiss. The chemistry between us is volatile, and she immediately deepens it, hands going straight to the buttons of my shirt. She works them loose and growls her dismay to find a cotton T-shirt under it.
The muscles in my chest leap as her hands snake under my clothing, and I kiss her harder. My hands go to her ass, pulling her into me, and I squeeze the firm globes. Jenna gasps as she pulls and pushes at my two shirts, trying to get them off. I’m a good guy, so I help her out, and when I’m naked from the waist up, Jenna boldly leans back to take a good long look.
I work hard in the gym and I follow a fairly healthy diet. I do so for peak performance on the ice, but damn if a side benefit isn’t having a woman like Jenna look at me the way she is right now.
As if I were an ice cream cone she wants to lick.
Rather than maul me, she steps in and presses a kiss right where my heart rests on the left side of my chest. The tenderness of her lips touching my skin is erotic, and a bolt of lust shoots straight to my dick.
My knees almost buckle when Jenna drags her lips over my nipple and rolls her tongue there, eliciting a deep growl. Then she fucking nips it with her teeth, and I about lose my fucking mind.
Mindless with need, my hands pull at the hem of her turtleneck tucked into her tight jeans. I tug it upward, but it snags on her arms, which don’t raise to give me access to strip her.
Jenna lifts her gaze to mine, and I’m pained by the uncertainty in her eyes.
“The lamp,” she whispers, nodding at it behind me.
I have no clue if this is the right move, but I want to push her. I shake my head. “No. I want to see all of you, Jenna.”
Those honey-brown eyes swirl with fear and desire. Two competing emotions battling for control.
“I want to see you,” I repeat softly. “I want every part of you.”
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
“I know.” I take her hands in mine, bend down, and brush my lips against her forehead. “All I can do is promise you a few things. I’ll never be disgusted or turned off by your scars. I’ve felt them. I think I know what to expect. I can’t deny I won’t be a bit shocked, because you know I will be. And I’m sure I’m going to be angry at fate for making you go through this. I’ll probably feel empathy, but never pity. Most of all, I’m going to revel in the way you share yourself with me, and I will admire you all the more for your courage. Your scars are evidence of a battle you’ve won, and they make you more beautiful than you will ever know.”
Jenna’s eyes bore into mine, still clouded with doubt. But her arms relax, and then rise, and she lets me pull her shirt up and over her head.
I stare down at the lacy black bra she purchased for the sole purpose of being sexy and spurring my lust. It’s working.
With my fingertips, I drag just one cup down and over her nipple, scraping it along the way. It puckers before my eyes.
Using both my hands, I undo the front clasp and allow her breasts to spill free. I slide my fingers under the straps and push the lacy material to the floor.
My palms cover her breasts, and I gently squeeze them. “You are so fucking beautiful,” I say reverently as I rub my thumbs over her nipples. I smile at the responsiveness, the tight little buds shriveling from the barest touch. “So sensitive.”
I bend down and suck one into my mouth, and I’m not gentle about it. Jenna moans, her hands sliding into my hair to hold me there.
I pull away with a pop and give the same treatment to the other nipple. “Gage,” she gasps, jerking at my hair.
My hands work the button and then the zipper of her jeans. I slide my hands inside at her hips, straight under her panties, and push the pants down her legs, squatting as I go.
“Hold on,” I say gruffly as I lift a foot to pull off her boot. Next comes the sock as she balances with her hands on my shoulders. Jenna’s breath comes faster, and I feel it blowing over the top of my head.
I tug her jeans the rest of the way off and then lift my head to stare up at her. Her eyes are shadowed from the lamplight, so I don’t know how she’s feeling. My palms go to her ass, feeling the welted skin as I press my face into her sex. “I am going to destroy this with my mouth.”
I give her a long lick to show her what’s coming, and Jenna cries out.
But before I go down on her with the sole intention of making her come hard, I stand back up and take her face in my hands. I kiss her softly on the mouth and then lower my hands to her shoulders.
“Turn around for me,” I murmur.
Her breath stutters and she swallows hard, but her chin lifts. Ever so slowly, she pulls on her immense bravery and relies on the trust she has in me.
Jenna gives me her back.
I gather her long hair and rest it over one shoulder so I can see everything. The red, mottled skin seems to have been pieced together like a patchwork quilt, extending over most of her back, buttocks, and thighs. My heart aches for the physical torment she must’ve endured during her recovery. For the emotional toll it has taken.
Jenna’s body is stiff, and she’s holding her breath. With my fingertips, I start at the back of her shoulder and trace the various scarred lines. Leaning in, I brush my lips over each one.
“This one right here,” I whisper, kissing just below her left shoulder blade. “I’m going to call this one fortitude.”
A shudder ripples through Jenna’s body, and I don’t know if it’s from desire or angst. But I don’t stop.
Tracing the skin almost over to her ribs, I circle an area with the pad of my finger. “This area I’ll call strength, vulnerability, and triumph.”
Jenna’s breath comes out in a rush, a sound of pent-up pain within. My heart clenches, but I keep going.
Drawing my hand down over her ass, I palm one cheek. The skin is pinkish with a rough texture. “Your ass is slamming, Ms. Holland.”
I squeeze and bend my lips to brush over her shoulder, and Jenna actually giggles. I smile against the scarring there.
Stepping into her backside, Jenna can’t doubt how much I want her by my hard length pressed into her. I wrap an arm around her chest, palming one breast. I move my other hand around to her stomach and slide it down so my fingers play between her legs. Jenna tries to squirm away and then leans into the pressure I’m creating. Her head falls against my shoulder, and she mewls with need. I’m so aroused by her trust and her beauty—scars and all—that I’m afraid I’m going to embarrass myself.