A wound remains, but without the scrape of the knife forcing it to bleed, maybe I can stop hurting so much.
I press a little more clay to my Brody sculpture and try my best not to start sobbing.
He props himself up on his right arm to face me. “You want to know what a fucked-up family is?”
Since I might shatter into a million pieces and disappear into the sky if I speak, I roll onto my side to meet his dark eyes and nod.
“I’ve spent my life trying to earn the approval of a man who’ll never give it. I have files, too, in my mind. Hundreds of clips of my life.” He laughs again, not the open, real laugh from a few minutes ago, but a darker one, tinged with pain. “Every time, no matter what, I’m all but jumping up and down in front of Declan, begging for acknowledgment.”
Life’s not a fairy tale. We’re both damaged goods.
I know that, and so does he.
He rests his head on the inside of his arm. “Analyze that.”
His breath heats my cheek, and the smallest of smiles lifts my lips. “It’s normal to want a parent’s approval, even if you never expect to get it.” I shift the tiniest bit closer. “It’s normal to want other things too.”
What am I doing? I’m not sure, but I think the storm’s rousing my bravery.
The rain pelts the car with angry fists, and the thunder rumbles along, struggling to outmatch it. Mother Nature’s just piling on the tension until the air in the van all but crackles.
Brody rests his hand on my shoulder, and I quiver from his caress.
He strokes my arm, and blood races through my veins, heating my skin. My heart pounds so loudly, I can barely hear the rain.
He inches closer, brushing his lips over mine. Maybe the storm makes him brave too. “I’m sorry that happened to your friend.” He wraps his arms around me and draws me into his chest. “And to you.”
A shudder racks my body. He’s the first person to acknowledge my pain since shortly after Angelica died. Somehow, this man I barely know, whose father hates my entirefamily, who abducted me and threatened me and manhandled me…seesme.
I blink away the hot tears blurring my vision. “Thank you.” I breathe the words into his chest, then press my cheek against his shoulder.
In the thunderstorm’s chill, he’s so incredibly warm.
Stuck in the middle of nowhere, in the desert and on the run from Russian mercenaries…I’ve never felt safer.
He swipes at a tear with his thumb and kisses me again while cupping my cheek. The kiss deepens as I inch closer and press my body flush to his.
I trail my hand down his sculpted arm to his waist to tug at the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head and tosses it to the side, allowing me to stroke his bare chest. I trace a line around his little bandages and butterfly stitches before examining his scars.
He doesn’t flinch while I investigate the map of his past, engraved deeper than tattoos on his skin.
When I glance at his face, which is barely visible in the shadows of the night, his eyes are riveted on me. His heavy gaze blasts heat rushing through every limb, infusing me with sudden urgency.
I fumble with his pants as he unfastens the fly of my jeans. With a little cursing on his part, I help remove his boxers and shed my own underwear. Then I shrug out of my t-shirt and lie back on the blanket, both of us newly naked.
Brody traces a path up and down my side, from my rib cage to just above my knee while I continue exploring his chest. Every second we’ve spent together has served as practice for this moment.
I know that now.
His touch roams past my waist to my breasts. When his thumb brushes my nipples, I inhale sharply. He leans in and kisses the valley between them.
“I want you, Brody.” I exhale a shaky breath. “Inside me.”
He quivers. “I want you, too, Trinity. I…fuck.” He stops talking to tease my nipples. He licks a circle around one and then sucks on the hardened point, drawing breathless little gasps from my lips. Pulling away, he blows warm air on the tip before shifting his attention to the other one. I thread my hands through his hair as need swells in my core.
Fists of thunder beat on the sky. Lightning spotlights his body in all its scarred-up glory. Along with his cock, thick and hard and ready for me.
I’m more than ready too. My body aches for his stiff length.
