My breath shortens.I don’t know where to put my hands.I keep them frozen at her sides.
She’s going through something.We haven’t even had a real conversation.She’s hurting.This isn’t how this should go.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper.“If this is about something else, something you’re trying not to feel—”
She covers my mouth with her hand, her breath as steady as her gaze.
Then she leans back and yanks off her shirt.
My throat goes dry, and my insides turn molten.
Her nipples are pierced.Of course, they fucking are.Two tiny hoops glint in the pink buds of the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.
How the hell did I miss those through her top?
Because I was being a gentleman.Because I wasn’t looking.I didn’t let myself.
“Dove.”I choke.“We need to stop.”
“I’m not some simpering virgin.”
“Iam.Not the simpering part.The other part.”
She blinks.“You’re a virgin?”
“Shocking, right?”
“Well, yeah.”Her eyebrows climb together.“Jesus.You’ve really only been in civilization for six months?”
“I haven’t lied to you.”
“I thought… I don’t know.A guy with your looks and confidence would’ve banged every woman in Sitka by now.”
“I haven’t.By choice.Mostly.”
“Okay.I can work with that.”She shifts down my thighs, dragging my pants lower.
I can’t move.Can’t breathe.I can only stare.
Her tiny waist dips into curvy hips that make my hands ache to grab her there.And her tits… Lord, take me now.They’re perfect.High and full and so prettily pierced.She’s art.Raw and exquisite and more stunning than anything I could draw.
And I’m an idiot with trembling hands and no idea where to start.
As I reach up to trace the line of her collarbone, she grabs the hem of my shirt and lifts fast.
I forget.
I forget until I see her eyes go wide.
Until the cold air hits my chest.My scars.
“No.”I flinch away, scrambling to shove down my shirt.“Don’t look at me.”
She stills.
I push her off me.Or maybe she slides off on her own.It’s an ugly blur as I curl up, elbows on my knees, hands clutching my shirt tight against me.
Fuck, I’m breathing hard.
