He doesn't show me his work when he's finished. He says that it's just for him so I leave it alone. "Now a nude one," he says.
I laugh.
"You think I'm kidding?" He flops on the sofa bed next to me and pulls me to him. "I'll make a deal. You pose nude and I'll get you off. I know you're going crazy."
My jaw drops. "I am not—I can—you don't—it's not—"
His head throws back in laughter. "Luce, you don't think I know what you're doing? I know you. I know your body. I know that it's driving you insane that I haven't touched you."
I pounce on him, and sit on his waist with my knees on either side. "Why haven't you?"
His head lifts off the cushion, just so he can watch his hands roam up my thighs, softly pushing my skirt higher. "I just didn't want to do anything before you were ready. Are you?" he asks sincerely. "I mean emotionally."
I think about his words, and I think about him, and everything he means to me. "Yes."
He licks his lips before sitting up and pulling me closer to him. He kisses me slowly, deeply, for minutes that feel like seconds. And I can't get enough of him. Physically. Emotionally. All of it. His warm hands grip my waist, under my tank.
And then I panic. I push his hands away, and pull back from his kiss.
"What's wrong?"
I swallow the knot in my throat and look away, but his hand on my chin turning me to him doesn't let me stay there for long.
"Babe?"
I try not to cry. I try not to ruin the moment. I really do. But I can't hold it in.
"Hey," he soothes, wrapping me in his arms and rubbing circles in my back. "What's wrong? Talk to me."
"I have a scar," I whisper. "And it's ugly."
Gently, he grasps my shoulders so he can push me away and look in my eyes. "Are you kidding me?"
I shake my head, feeling small and insecure.
He looks away and releases a breath. "I don't know what to say," he admits. "I don't know how to make you feel better about that. All I can say is that I think you're beautiful, every single inch of you—scar or not. And if there's a way that I could prove it, I would. If you feel self-conscious about it, you don't have to show me, but I'd like to see it. It kind of belongs to both of us, don't you think?"
I inhale a confident breath and slowly take my top off. His eyes stay on mine. Then slowly, he flips us over until I'm on my back, and he kisses me. First my mouth, and then down my neck. His tongue darts out, leaving a trail between my breasts. He unhooks my bra, and slowly pulls the straps down each arm. His eyes focus on my breasts. "Beautiful," he murmurs, before paying them individual attention with his mouth. His tongue. His teeth. I close my eyes and let him take me in. His hands tug at my skirt until it's over my hips and down my legs. He kisses my stomach, down to my belly button. Tears fall from my closed eyes when I anticipate his next move—when he sees the ugly scar that mars my so-called-beautiful body. My breath catches when I feel his lips there, an inch above my pubic bone. He places open mouth kisses along the length of it; all four inches. He takes his time, letting my body shake with the sobs that I can't contain. "You're beautiful, Lucy," he croaks. And I cry harder. But he doesn't stop with the kisses, he moves further down my body, removing my panties, my suspenders and my stockings all in one move. He stands at the end of the sofa, his eyes burning with lust. He licks his lips, before dipping his head between my legs.
It doesn't take long for me to come. Not once. Not twice. But three times—just from his mouth alone. "You gotta be quiet," he chuckles. "This is public space."
"Shut up," I tell him. "Get naked."
He laughs, but he does what I ask. Then he climbs on top of me and positions himself. "I'm gonna make love to you now," he says into my neck. "And I'm going to do it right this time."
"Okay," I moan, running a hand down his back. "And after we make love, can you screw me?"
He stifles his laugh with my neck.
"And then after you screw me, can you fuck me?"
He slams inside me without warning. And then his body tenses and he looks up. "Shit, Luce, I didn't even ask. Are you... I mean... can we?"
"I'm on the pill." I kiss him passionately, tasting myself on his tongue... feeling him get even bigger inside of me. "Now make love to me so we can get to the kinky shit."
CHAPTER FORTY
-CAMERON-
I don't like to think that Lucy and I broke up last summer. I say that we just restarted—created a new round of firsts. Everything else is the same as it has always been. I have more spare time now that I'm not working at the firm, and I can take it a little easier because there isn't the pressure of a scholarship weighing on me.