Page 120 of Dead Pretty

His words … his touch … make me shiver.

His mouth moves down my neck. I tip my head back, giving him access.

The hint of tongue on my skin, and I’m ready to combust.

But still, he hasn’t put a hand on my breast or down my pants.

My important bits are screaming for attention.

“Jack,” I moan. I shift myself forward, closer to his hard cock, needing to press myself against it.

When I make contact, my eyes close, and I see stars behind my lids.

Jack’s mouth finds mine again. He moans as his tongue sweeps inside my mouth.

His hand palms my lower back, and I start to slowly ride him through the thin material of our sleep clothes.

“Audrey,” he whispers my name, and it sounds like a prayer.

One I’m more than happy to answer.

“I want to see you.”

Does he mean … he wants to see all of me? Or see me how he usually sees me?

Part of me is afraid to ask.

But a part of me is also tired of hiding who I am.

I want Jack. I want him to know me.

But if I take my shirt off … if I show him the scars … will it change the way he looks at me? The way he wants me?

If Jack had scars like I do, would it change the way I wanted him?

No. Of course it wouldn’t.

So, why do I think it will change the way he looks at me?

Because I’m afraid.

Fear.

It controls every aspect of my life.

I don’t want to be afraid anymore.

Especially not with Jack.

Breaking our kiss, I slide off Jack’s lap and stand in front of him.

I don’t know where this sudden bout of confidence has come from, but I don’t want to lose it.

I hook my fingers into the waistband of my shorts and pull them down.

Jack’s eyes are fixed on me. I love the way he looks at me. Like I’m the only thing in the world he sees.

But will he still look at me the same when he sees my scars?