Her hand touched the healed, pink puckered wound on his abdomen, wondering how she didn’t notice it when they went swimming.
“Does it hurt?”
“Only the memory of it and how it affected me for over a year,” he confessed. “It put me in the hospital and rehab for a long time, giving me time to think about my choices in life.”
“Did this happen when you saved Kassie and the others?” she asked, still tracing the scar.
“Yes,” he replied, watching her.
Caroline tugged on the belt of her wrap dress, letting it fall open in the front. “Cain did this to me,” she said, pointing to her stomach. “Because I burned his toast.”
He pulled aside the delicate fabric, his thumb gliding over the old wound. “He’ll never lay a hand on you again,” he promised.
She let the material fall from her shoulders. “One of the men bit me when Cain left me alone. He shot him when he saw it,then beat me for allowing the man to touch me, like I possessed a choice.”
Jameson leaned over and placed a kiss on the injury.
“I’m glad he’s dead. I don’t have the time to hunt him down.”
She lowered it a little more.
“Cain stabbed me when I kept him from taking a teen to his bed. I hid her inside the cabinets until the clients left. He wanted to give her a lesson about hiding from his guests.”
Jameson’s jaw ticked, and his expression grew hard as he saw the jagged scar. “He’ll be lucky if he sees daylight in a prison cell,” he growled.
“This happened two days before you found me. They tied a young woman to the wall and wanted to whip her. I stabbed him. I know you’ve seen this, but does it sicken you?” she asked, showing him the jagged scars down her back.
“Only because the bastards did this, and you didn’t deserve it,” he assured her.
Jameson knelt, picked up the delicate material, and put it over her shoulders.
“Caroline, you don’t have to do this. Not to prove anything to me or because I saved you,” he said close to her ear. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I owe you my life, but I’m not doing this for you,” she said shyly, turning to face him. Her gaze searched his.
“You’re recovering from a ton of trauma. You don’t need to have sex with me to prove anything. We’ll do this on our own time,” he assured her softly, drawing the dress together.
“Do I disgust you?” she asked quietly.
“No, Honeybee. You’ll never disgust me. Every single scar has a story of how you survived. Wear it like a fucking badge of honor,” he replied, fumbling with the belt
Her hand covered his. “Maybe you should heed your own advice.” She cupped his face with both hands and gazed at him.“I don’t want to have sex with you, Jameson. I want to make love with you. I don’t know of any triggers, but if it gets too much, I’ll tell you to stop.”
“Caroline,” he whispered as she leaned in, capturing his mouth. Her tongue glided against his as he pulled her body close, touching his. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he rubbed her back.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he admitted. “I’m afraid it might set you back.”
“You don’t terrify me,” she assured him. “I’m safe when I’m with you. I know the difference between sex and making love. I want to feel your touch and know it means more than something dirty and sick. I want to replace those memories with good ones, starting with you.”
Jameson seemed moved by her words, yet he still hesitated. Caroline fought the tears coming at his rejection when his hand slid inside the dress and touched her waist. His head bent seeking her mouth once more. She moaned at his gentle touch as he lightly stroked her sides while exploring her mouth. His hands moved over her shoulder as he slipped the material over them.
Caroline shrugged, letting it slide to the floor. Her hands reached for the buttons of his shirt, unbuttoning them. Pressing her against the wall, Jameson continued nibbling her neck, sending chills down her body.
“You’re beautiful, Caroline,” he said as he cupped her cheek.
“Do you have any condoms?” she asked uneasily. “Dr. Greene started me on the pill but…just in case. I need to wait six months…”
“I have them. We’ll use them until she clears you,” he assured her, before going into the bedroom. He returned a minute later, holding a box in his hand.
