Asshole.
I turn and he leans in to softly kiss my lips again before looking at me while still caressing my cheek. “Would it be too much to ask for you to show them to me?”
“You want to see my scars?” My head jerks back as if he slapped me.
Did I hear him right? If so, then he’s lost his damn mind, too, which totally explains why he’d even consider kissing me right now.
I swallow hard as I press my hand flat against those disgusting lines in my skin. “They are awful. I can’t even look at them without feeling sick.”
“They are a part of you, a part that only we share.” He swings a long leg around the back of the bench so he’s straddling it, facing me once again. Which was actually really fucking smart because now he’s got a mammoth thigh on either side of me, and I won’t be able to run without landing on the floor first.
“I am already in love with all of the parts of you I know. Those scars, that part of you is something just the two of us share, and I will love that part just as much as the rest of you. Those scars are as much mine as they are yours.”
I look down at his hands that are now on my knees keeping me in place, his touch like pure, raw energy lighting up my skin at every point of contact.
“You really want to see?” I know Lucky has always had a little crazy in him but this is some batshit level crazy. And while I won’t yuck anyone’s yum, I might have to draw the line if he’s turned on by my near-death scars.
“Yeah, I really want to see.” He flashes that million-dollar smile even though he’s mocking my tone. “I promise, it has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve been dying to get you to take your clothes off in front of me for more than a decade.”
I can’t help but smile at that.
Pretty much because I feel the same, but also because of how genuine, how concerned he is as he carefully treads a line that no one has ever crossed.
I don’t deserve any of that.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I stand up but Lucky doesn’t move his hand. He keeps it on my knee so I don’t run while still giving me the freedom to move. Then he swings his other leg over the bench, Lucky’s back to the piano so he can pull me between his thighs.
He still knows me so well.
But I take a step back to put a little space between us, causing Lucky to lurch forward and try to grab me, but I hold up a hand.
“I just needed a little space. I’m close enough to break your nose if I make one clumsy move. Which we both know is entirely possible.” I arch a brow at him, and he relaxes with a nod.
Then, with shaking hands, I grab the bottom of my T-shirt, cursing myself a bit for not changing into something better than an old sports bra and holy Rancid T before coming down here. Not that I thought I’d be turning my freak show into a striptease for a man I’m completely in love with, but that’s beside the point.
I pull it up over my head, favoring my left side as the scars pull my skin tightly back down into place. Feeling completely exposed and vulnerable, I wrap my arms around my waist and wait for the look of horror, convinced Lucky is going to be disgusted with me.
I am, why wouldn’t he be?
He grabs my wrists and pulls my arms down to my sides, takes the t-shirt from my hand then tosses it on the bench beside him. Lucky’s eyes slowly move all over my body as he analyzes every inch of my mangled flesh, and I can practically feel it the entire time.
Starting with the scar that technically ends by my belly button, he turns my hips to find where it begins, and when Lucky caresses the point of entry, I tense.
I can’t see that part but I know it did the most damage to my tattoo.And my fucking kidney.
Lucky traces it, turns me back around, and runs his fingers along the length of it. The point of exit is much more visible since I don’t have any tattoos on my stomach, and it’s a deep red color, an eyesore in the middle of my gut, but as he touches it, I feel nothing but butterflies.
I watch him closely as Lucky moves to the group of gnarly lines on the left side of my ribs, but when he looks up at me, I look away. Those scars are bigger, nastier, bone and muscle were ripped out of me while that bastard twisted the knife there.
Those scars are so ugly.
Lucky sits up straight and pulls me toward him, now practically eye level with the scars on my chest and throat. He wraps his arm around me, placing his hand on the small of my back, and the closeness makes my whole body tremble. He softly touches each scar on my chest, Lucky’s eyes flashing in anger briefly as he meets mine but then they flood with warmth, and he brings his hand up to stroke my cheek, his fingers ghosting along my jaw then down to the scar on my throat.
He repositions so he can close the fall over the keyboard, sliding the bench out of the way so he’s leaning completely against the piano itself. Lucky pulls me to him again and bends down to kiss each of the scars on my chest, his lips blazing a trail along the horizontal one above my collarbones before he runs them up the side of my neck, kissing it every few breaths before I feel them moving toward my chin.
Lucky’s hand moves to the back of my hair and he uses it to tilt my head back slightly while he kisses my jaw, and I fucking melt into him. His lips find mine again and this kiss, this kiss isso much more intense, it’s straight up everything as I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back.
I pull him closer, kiss him harder, hell I even end up biting that plump bottom lip of his. I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into me but when Lucky let’s a small growl rumble through his chest all rational thought flies out the window, and I’m ready to shove him onto the piano bench and ride him like a cowboy.
