Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
It was so intense that it left both of us shaking and gasping for air. I rolled us over, trying and failing to stay inside him, and he curled up on top of me as we caught our breath. When he could speak again, he murmured, “That was incredible.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“Any regrets?”
“Fuck, no.”
“Good.” He kissed my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him. After a pause, he said, “Sorry if I scratched you. I got carried away.”
“I liked it.” He grinned at that and nuzzled my neck.
I felt him shiver, and it immediately spurred me to action. “Be right back,” I said, as I shifted him onto the mattress and got up. “I’m going to draw us a bath.”
When I returned, I scooped him into my arms. As I carried him to the bathroom, I told him, “I want to spend all evening taking care of you.”
I expected him to argue, but instead he murmured, “That sounds wonderful.”
The splash of body wash I’d added to the tub had foamed up like bubble bath, perfuming the warm, damp air with a sweet orange blossom scent. I put Embry down and reached for the hem of his cum-stained tank top, but he grabbed my hands to stop me. There was turmoil in his eyes when he looked up at me and whispered, “I want to leave it on. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” I obviously had questions, but it was best not to push. He’d tell me what that was about when he was ready.
I climbed into the tub and offered him my hand. He hesitated for a moment before grasping it and stepping into the hot water.
He leaned against me, and I put my arms around him. A minute ticked by before he whispered, “I know wearing a shirt in the tub is weird, but I don’t want you to think I’m ugly.”
“Why would I think that?”
“Because of my scar.”
“That’s why you wanted to keep your shirt on?”
He nodded. “That night when I showed you, it was dark, and you didn’t see all of it. I’m afraid you’ll take one look at it and be so disgusted that you won’t want me anymore.”
I wrapped my arms around him more securely. “I’d never do that, Em.”
His voice caught as he whispered, “You don’t know how bad it is.”
“It doesn’t matter. Absolutely nothing could stop me from thinking you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.”
After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder at me. “I feel ridiculous, sitting in a bath with a shirt on. And I know you’re not the type of guy to reject me for something like this. But that’s happened to me before, and it made me really self-conscious.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
He shifted around so he was facing me and said, “I’m just going to get it over with and show you. If you think I look gross, I’ll wear a shirt from now on. Okay?”
“Do whatever makes you comfortable, Em. No pressure.”
He pulled off his tank top and clutched it to his chest. His slumped shoulders and the way he hung his head broke my heart. He hesitated before finally lowering the wet fabric, exposing an old, faded scar that covered most of his chest. The skin was uneven and his nipples were misshapen, but it really wasn’t that bad—to me, anyway. To him, it came with a lifetime of negative emotions, so it seemed worse than it was. “Go ahead and say it. I know I’m hideous,” he whispered, looking completely defeated.
“No, you’re not.” I sat up and ran my hands down his arms, in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. “That scar doesn’t make you ugly, Em. It makes you a survivor, and it shows you’re so much stronger than you realize.” I couldn’t stand the thought of how much it must have hurt, or how easily a burn like that could have killed him at such a young age.
He glanced at me from under his lashes. “It does?” I nodded, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the negative messages he’d been telling himself for years. “It was all my fault, though. I’m too clumsy, and—”
“It wasn’t your fault. You told me you were three years old when you got burned, Em. If we’re looking for someone to blame, I’m going with the adult who should have been looking out for you.”
“The end result is the same though, no matter who’s to blame. I look horrible.”
“You’re wrong. That scar can’t touch how beautiful you are, inside and out.”
He’d lowered his gaze, but then he ventured another glance at me. “You still think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course I do. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, Em. You’re ethereal.”
He flung himself into my arms, and as I hugged him he murmured, “Thank you for saying that.”