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“What the hell happened here, baby?” I keened my displeasure. My heart aching for her, I followed the angry purple line and the bumps that ran nearly the entire length of her spine.
“Please don’t stare,” she whispered. “Let me up.” She struggled beneath my hand.
“Not until you tell me who did this.” Placing both my hands on her ass, I tightened my grip. Someone needed to pay for the violence she bore.
“No one did it. I don’t want to talk about it. Get your hands off me.” Her tone was bone-chillingly cold, a sharp contrast to the fiery passion mere moments before.
“All right.” I sank backward.
She scrambled out from under me and shimmied off the bed. I got a tempting glimpse of her stunning nudity before she snagged my abandoned towel from the floor and wrapped it around herself. Agitated, she spun around.
“Go,” she said harshly, jerking her head toward the door. She was as regally poised as a princess, even looking shaken and only wearing a towel. “Go away now. We’re done. Playtime is over.”
“Not playing.” I climbed out of the bed. There was a lot in my head right now, but playing her wasn’t part of it.
“Whatever you want to call it.” She didn’t believe me and took a step back as I advanced. “We’re done having sex.”
No, we most certainly were not.
“You think I care about the scars?” As I kept moving forward, she kept stepping back until she reached the wall and stopped. “You’re beautiful, Electra. Stunning. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I highly doubt that.” She lifted her chin. The wetness that had gathered in her eyes made them glisten like liquid silver. “But thank you.”
“Just had you, but I want you again.” I held her gaze. “I know you felt me already hardening again inside you.”
“That was before ...” She dropped her gaze.
“Scars or no scars, you’re beautiful.”
I understood what the problem was, or I was pretty sure I did. Her scars were why she didn’t want to shower with me. I wondered if it were the reason she’d insisted on casual sex.
“It doesn’t mean shit to me, except that it’s part of your story. A painful part, and that bothers me.”
“Don’t, Champion.”
I shook my head in confusion. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t try to analyze me. Don’t try to get in my head. You won’t like what you find.”
“Doubtful.” My jaw tightened. She was stubborn and proud, but then so was I.
“How do you figure that?” she asked.
“I wanted you since I saw you in that tree. Your beauty. Your grace. Your spirit.” Baring my feelings, I laid it out. “All that you are intrigues me. Why wouldn’t I want to know more about you?”
“I’m just a novelty.” She held herself stiffly, as if a sudden movement might shatter her. “A curiosity. You’re rich and famous and bored.”
My gaze hardened. “Don’t spin my words into something they’re not.”
I was irritated that she dismissed my honesty, while at the same time I was glad to see that the gathered tears in her eyes were gone. This being-real shit was more complicated than I’d thought.
“Well, even if you mean it,” she shrugged and glanced away, “that’s not what this is.”
I eliminated the minute amount of air separating us. It was barely anything, but it was too much. “Things have changed.”
I didn’t want to analyze why ... I just wanted more of her.
Grabbing her by the upper arms, I pulled her into me. Her body against mine was the answer to a mystery I hadn’t yet solved. I wrapped my arms around her. She felt right in my embrace, and so did I, which no longer surprised me. She remained stiff for about two seconds before she melted.
