Scarred Beauty(13)

“What’s your name?”

“Isaac.”

His name played in her mind. She liked the name. It suited him.

“Do you have a last name?”

“Just call me Isaac while we’re here.”

Isaac hadn’t let go of her hand. She found herself staring at the connection they shared. His hand was darker, sun-tanned, which was a complete contrast next to the pale untouched colour of her skin.

He reached out to touch the side of her face that was covered by her hair. She stopped him capturing his hand in hers. Both of their hands touched. His heat penetrated her cold palms. He represented everything she wasn’t, hot, sexy, warm, and many wonderful feelings she could only wish to think about.

“You’re cold,” he said.

“My hands always are.”

“I want to see you, Elle. Trust me. I’m not like other men.”

Tears filled her eyes as panic erupted inside her. Most men ran away from her. By holding his hands she felt a need inside her to be close to this one man. What if he ran when he saw her scars?

“I’m afraid.” She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. For too long she’d let her tears fall and given into the fear that claimed her.

“Then fight it. You’ve already won half the battle in being here with me. You could have given in and not come at all. You’re here. Slowly, you’re fighting for what you want.” He pulled out of her grip and placed his palm on the right side of her face over her hair.

She found herself breathing hard and staring into his sinfully dark eyes.

“Trust me.”

She nodded her head as he moved her hair out of the way. Her breathing stopped as her hair went behind her ear, the right side of her face exposed for him to see. Noelle closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the disgust on his face. The bed moved, and she expected to hear the sound of the door.

“You really went through some pain during this.” Opening her eyes she watched as he settled on the bed, facing her. He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up for a better look. His thumb touched the line from under her eye, down her check and neck to settle under her shirt at her collarbone.

“Don’t you find it ugly?” she asked.

“No. You went through hell during this, and these scars are your own war wounds. Most people’s scars are on the inside where no one can see them. You should be happy with them, Elle. You’ve lived through what caused them.”

“But they’re ugly.”

“Only to people who don’t understand what you’ve been through. I don’t understand, but I respect you for it. Are they the only scars?”

She shook her head.

“Can I see them?”

“They’re under my clothes.”

“I promise to be a gentleman. This is our time, Elle, to do what we want.” He placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him.

The tears she held in fell down her cheeks. He wiped them away with gentle fingers.

“I’ll show you.”

Isaac stood and began unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. She didn’t protest as a hard, tanned chest was revealed to her. His chest was hard and firm. His stomach had a six pack, which any actor would want. There wasn’t a single ounce of fat on his body. She wrapped her arms around her waist to comfort herself. There was no way she would be showing this god her body.

He sat down next to her. “Touch me.”

“What?”

“I want you to trust me. Touch my body. I have no visible scars to show you, but my body is yours to touch as you like.”

She gazed at the beautiful male chest and reached out to touch him.

****

Isaac was a goner. The moment he’d seen her something had awakened inside him. A deep profound longing held him in its throes. He stared at her scars and saw nothing but the beauty inside her. She looked so lost and alone, and he wanted to be the man she could rely on. The type of man she could trust. Sitting across from her with his shirt off, he craved her touch more than his next breath.

She was so much smaller than he. While she stared at his chest, he looked his fill of her gorgeous body. Most of the women in his circles were health conscious, always worrying about what they ate. All the women he’d dated had spent a great deal of time telling him the benefits of one diet or the other. As if they could tell him how important they were based on the effort they put in to be so thin. He’d grown tired of the bags of bones. He wanted a woman who loved to eat and laugh, a woman who could take being bent over a hard surface and fucked for hours without breaking.

His cock pulsed at the image of Elle bent over the bed, her legs open wide as he screwed her hard and fast. The thoughts of her naked were going to drive him crazy. Brad had asked him to make sure there would never be any visits like this one.