relax, except my gut which tightens at her touch.
Abruptly I turn back toward her, capture her hand. “Hey,” I manage. “I can’t take it. When you touch me like that.”
Her eyes are confused, compassionate. “Does it hurt?”
“No. Well, yeah. But not the way you think.”
“Oh.” She’s waiting, watching me. “Do you want to see mine?”
Do I want to see hers.
Fuck.
I’ve already seen every bit of her that would normally be exposed. Do I want to see more of her?
I nod.
She reaches down and tugs her shirt over her head.
The truth is I’ve imagined her in even less. And I want to look at her everywhere . My eyes soak in her body but it’s her damn face that gets me. The shyness. The vulnerability. The strength.
My heart’s in my throat as her finger hooks under the bottom of her bra on one side and tugs it up, carefully like she’s trying not to reveal more than necessary. And every quarter inch of flesh pushes me that closer to the edge.
Then I see it. The small sun image, just an inch across, under her breast.
“It’s stupid,” she says, and her voice is shy. “But my mom used to sing ‘you are my sunshine’ to me the days before she died. I don’t remember it, but my dad talks about it. I know it’s weird but I wanted to have it on me. So my body would remember it even if I didn’t.” Ariel breathes. “You’re the first person to see it. Even Larissa doesn’t know I have it.”
She drops her bra back in place. We’re standing inches apart and I can’t stay out here, floating like an island when Ariel’s closer than she’s ever been.
I settle my hands on her hips, my thumbs just brushing the skin above the waistband of her skirt.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” she says quietly. “Not knowing someone at all or wishing you didn’t.”
She thinking of my scars again, I can tell.
“Me either,” I say honestly.
Even as my eyes run down her, the pain’s falling away, being replaced by something else. I feel like we’re the same. I had no idea when we’d first met that she would take up so much of my mind. That she’d make me open old wounds. That I’d find someone completely different who understands what it’s like to hurt.
My thumbs keep stroking her bare hips, just above her skirt. Suddenly she shivers and my eyes flick up to hers.
“Cold?”
Her hands go to my forearms but she doesn’t push me away. “It’s not that. You’re smoldering at me again, Chase.”
“I’m what?”
Her gaze flicks down, then back up to mine. “Sometimes, you look at me and I’d swear your eyes are so hot they’d burn me if I touched them. You’re doing it right now.”
My breath catches. “Do you like it?” I breathe.
Surprise crosses her features. “What?”
“When I do that,” I murmur, “do you like it?”
“Yes,” she admits, stretching out a finger to trace the lines on my pec again. She looks fascinated by them.
Power surges through me. And suddenly this feels so damn right. I don’t recognize the voice that says, “show me again.”
Ariel lifts her eyes to mine. She’s vulnerable, uncertain, but as in this charged moment as I am. She pulls up her bra, carefully, and I run my thumb over the tattoo, right where her breast meets her ribs.
Her breath hitches, but I’ve stopped needing to breathe. All I fucking need in this moment is to feel her silky softness under my thumb. Her fucking perfect skin and sweetness. It’s fascinating and I stroke it again, seeing her ribs rise and fall with her breath.
“Chase…” she warns.
I look back at her. Then I lean forward and press my lips to the same spot.
A moan spills from her lips and the sound unleashes a monster in my chest.
With a mind of its own, my tongue darts out to touch her skin.
My hands span her waist, somehow I’m the one holding her bra up because one of her hands is gripping the counter and the other’s on my head. Not holding me there, not pushing me away.
“Chase…” This
Abruptly I turn back toward her, capture her hand. “Hey,” I manage. “I can’t take it. When you touch me like that.”
Her eyes are confused, compassionate. “Does it hurt?”
“No. Well, yeah. But not the way you think.”
“Oh.” She’s waiting, watching me. “Do you want to see mine?”
Do I want to see hers.
Fuck.
I’ve already seen every bit of her that would normally be exposed. Do I want to see more of her?
I nod.
She reaches down and tugs her shirt over her head.
The truth is I’ve imagined her in even less. And I want to look at her everywhere . My eyes soak in her body but it’s her damn face that gets me. The shyness. The vulnerability. The strength.
My heart’s in my throat as her finger hooks under the bottom of her bra on one side and tugs it up, carefully like she’s trying not to reveal more than necessary. And every quarter inch of flesh pushes me that closer to the edge.
Then I see it. The small sun image, just an inch across, under her breast.
“It’s stupid,” she says, and her voice is shy. “But my mom used to sing ‘you are my sunshine’ to me the days before she died. I don’t remember it, but my dad talks about it. I know it’s weird but I wanted to have it on me. So my body would remember it even if I didn’t.” Ariel breathes. “You’re the first person to see it. Even Larissa doesn’t know I have it.”
She drops her bra back in place. We’re standing inches apart and I can’t stay out here, floating like an island when Ariel’s closer than she’s ever been.
I settle my hands on her hips, my thumbs just brushing the skin above the waistband of her skirt.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” she says quietly. “Not knowing someone at all or wishing you didn’t.”
She thinking of my scars again, I can tell.
“Me either,” I say honestly.
Even as my eyes run down her, the pain’s falling away, being replaced by something else. I feel like we’re the same. I had no idea when we’d first met that she would take up so much of my mind. That she’d make me open old wounds. That I’d find someone completely different who understands what it’s like to hurt.
My thumbs keep stroking her bare hips, just above her skirt. Suddenly she shivers and my eyes flick up to hers.
“Cold?”
Her hands go to my forearms but she doesn’t push me away. “It’s not that. You’re smoldering at me again, Chase.”
“I’m what?”
Her gaze flicks down, then back up to mine. “Sometimes, you look at me and I’d swear your eyes are so hot they’d burn me if I touched them. You’re doing it right now.”
My breath catches. “Do you like it?” I breathe.
Surprise crosses her features. “What?”
“When I do that,” I murmur, “do you like it?”
“Yes,” she admits, stretching out a finger to trace the lines on my pec again. She looks fascinated by them.
Power surges through me. And suddenly this feels so damn right. I don’t recognize the voice that says, “show me again.”
Ariel lifts her eyes to mine. She’s vulnerable, uncertain, but as in this charged moment as I am. She pulls up her bra, carefully, and I run my thumb over the tattoo, right where her breast meets her ribs.
Her breath hitches, but I’ve stopped needing to breathe. All I fucking need in this moment is to feel her silky softness under my thumb. Her fucking perfect skin and sweetness. It’s fascinating and I stroke it again, seeing her ribs rise and fall with her breath.
“Chase…” she warns.
I look back at her. Then I lean forward and press my lips to the same spot.
A moan spills from her lips and the sound unleashes a monster in my chest.
With a mind of its own, my tongue darts out to touch her skin.
My hands span her waist, somehow I’m the one holding her bra up because one of her hands is gripping the counter and the other’s on my head. Not holding me there, not pushing me away.
“Chase…” This
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