“That’s not true,” I rasped out.
He laughed harshly as his fingers flexed, squeezing a little harder until black spots danced in the corners of my vision. “You’re lying. I saw you just now. With them. You would jump on their dicks in a heartbeat.”
I nodded as well as I could. “I would, because they are good men who have treated me well and talked to me like they want me, too.” He snorted. “But I like you, too.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Bullshit.”
“Not bullshit,” I gasped. “I think you’re gorgeous. Not damaged like you think. I also think you’re a good man, Dante. One who has been hurt by a shitty person. I want to show you that not all people are shitty. Not all women.”
He dropped his hand from my neck like he was burned and stepped back. I doubled over and sucked in lungfuls of air.
“Why are you really doing this?” he demanded. “Did they put you up to this?”
I shook my head. “No, Dante. Ever since I saw you playing with those goats, I knew you were a good person. I am a profiler, remember? I read people. I know you were hurt. I also know that I am attracted to you.” I straightened back up, and even though I was embarrassed, I looked him in the eye. “After I saw you naked, I played with myself in the shower. I had never orgasmed so hard before in my life.”
He stared at me for a long moment, then he snorted again before turning away from me and started walking, his titanium prosthetic causing a limp in his gait. “You’re fucked in the head,” he called over his shoulder.
I immediately began to follow him. “Why?” I asked, as I hurried to keep stride with him. He could walk fast even with his disability.
“You have a fetish for scars?” He asked derisively.
“Is there something wrong with scars?” I shot back. “Would you have a problem with someone who had scars?”
“Please,” he scoffed. “A woman like you? What? You have a little scar from a scratch somewhere on your perfect body?”
“First of all, thank you,” I said. “No one has ever told me I have a perfect body before.”
He snorted. “It’s a figure of speech. Don’t read into it.”
“Ouch,” I mumbled, then cleared my throat. “Secondly, I have more scars than you realize. I almost died giving them to myself.”
He stopped so suddenly that I ran into his back and would have fallen on my ass if he hadn’t spun around and caught me by the arms before I could. “What did you say?” he asked, his tone deadly quiet as he searched my face, then his gaze moved down, searching my arms until he held them out to get a better look at my wrists.
“Lower,” I said quietly.
He paused, then his eyes dropped lower. I tugged my arms free, then pulled the flesh of one thigh over so he could see the rows of scars there. Some were thin, barely noticeable. But some were thick, ugly, raised, obvious scars that told the story of what I had done in my darkest hours.
“I used to cut myself,” I said quietly. “After my sister was murdered. I was hurting. There was so much pain that I couldn’t deal with.” I closed my eyes as I went back in time. “My parentswere in their own bubble of darkness and forgot I existed. It became a way to let the pain out. When I cut myself, I felt something other than just numb. One time, I cut too deep and couldn’t stop the bleeding. I had to tell my parents.”
I looked away as I wiped a tear that had escaped at the memory. “Anyway, so, yeah. I know what scars are. I have them. I know what pain is. I’ve lived with it. And, yes, Dante, I fucking find you attractive. Fucking deal with it!”
I turned and stomped away, too overcome with the emotions the past always brought back. I was done throwing myself at the man. Perhaps another time I would be able to try to convince him I wasn’t a heartless bitch, but right then, I was done.
Before I could make it more than a few steps, my arm was jerked back, and I was spun around. I started to yell in protest, but Dante caught me in his arms. He took advantage of my open mouth, any sound I was going to make ending on a moan as he plunged his tongue inside and stole my breath.
The man kissed me as if he were dying of hunger, tangling our tongues wildly as his groan rumbled against my chest. His mouth was firm and strong, and it felt as if he were somehow marking my soul. I pressed myself against him, wanting more, wanting him to take more from me.
He pulled away from me, just as breathless as I was. “Damn you, woman,” he rasped, as he pressed our foreheads together. “Fucking, damn you.”
Just as suddenly as it began, it was over, and I was left standing alone, chest heaving as I watched Dante’s back retreating quickly into the darkness. I pressed my fingertips to my swollen lips, unsure of what had happened tonight.
I had gone from having never been kissed at all to being kissed by two different men, all in the space of an hour. My emotions were all over the place, and I was left with my head spinning. I let out a shaky breath and groaned.
Lifting my head to the sky, I stared up at the stars and wondered, not for the first time, what Mariposa would be doing with her life if she were still alive. If I could call her and tell her what had happened tonight, what would she say to me?
I smiled as I thought about my sister. I had a feeling that Mariposa would be my biggest cheerleader. She would be urging me on and telling me to jump all three men. I shook my head ruefully. Instead of heading back to the main house, I began a slow walk back toward my cabin, suddenly feeling drained and emotionally wrung out. I needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow was soon enough to step forward into the new relationship we were apparently building, temporary though it was.
Chapter 19
