“And—” He snapped his gaze back at the flaming blue eyes glaring at him. “Ones that will protect us and…and not think that we’re crazy and hurt us or think that we don’t deserve to be loved. No…no matter what has happened to us.”
What the fuck? “Abigail, I didn’t mean—”
“Never mind.” The sound of defeat was more than he could take. A punch to his ribs would’ve felt better.
He forced his gaze to stay planted on her flushed face and not on the cleavage that was staring back at him. “Abigail, it came out wrong. I just meant that women who are really pretty and sweet looking, they don’t go for guys like me. I look like the kind of life I’ve led, at least until a couple of years ago. Most women who are built with soft curves and, God forgive me, but fucking awesome breasts, don’t give me the time of day. You, Abigail, are real. Every inch of your gorgeous body is one-hundred-percent woman.” It was his turn to stand up. He crowded her against the table, watching as her once even breaths grew erratic. He cupped the back of her neck with his hand and massaged the soft hair flowing against his hand. Her brave finger tucked back against her chest as she stepped back and bumped her ass against the tabletop.
“S-Sean,” she whispered as he leaned in and peppered small kisses against her collarbone. “That…um, that feels so good. I’m mad at you.” Her voice said one thing, but as he continued to massage the back of her neck, her hips curled against him.
“Get up on the table, Abigail.”
“I can’t. I mean no. I mean I’m still—”
“Fuck it.”
“Oh!” Abigail’s heels went up as Sean’s big hands cupped her ass and planted her on the table.
“Open your mouth, Abigail. I’m going to fuck you right here. On the table. In front of your dog.”
BY THE SMIRK on his face, she wasn’t sure how serious he was. “Sean!”
He tucked his hands under her ass and pulled.
The thin pajama bottoms were tugged down to her thighs as she scrambled to pull them back up. God, it was light out. He’d see everything if he kept going. “Sean, you really don’t want to do this.”
“Oh yeah? Keep it up, baby…keep it up. Tinker Bell be damned.” He sneaked his fingertips beneath the elastic of her panties and pulled. Those took a bit more maneuvering, but he managed to strip her of those too. “Ah, silky.”
“Wh-What?” She held on to his hard shoulders to steady herself. She squeezed. Damn, he was built like a god. Her fingertips massaged his smooth skin, making her thighs melt and want to straddle his waist.
“Nothing,” he said. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”
She fidgeted as quickly as she could and tugged on the hem of her tank top. Jesus, last night she was tipsy with enough bravery to take on the Marines, but now, sober…no way. What had she been thinking? One glance at her scars and he’d be out the door. She didn’t think she could take that kind of rejection. Not right now.
“Move your hands, Abigail. Come on, baby, please move your hands. Let me see you.”
“No.” She wondered what it would be like if he did see her scars. Would he run away? She didn’t know if she could take the pity he’d surely show her.
“Abigail, move them.”
“No.”
“Okay, it’ll be okay. Whatever you want, baby. But I have to warn you. I want you now any way I can get you.”
She smiled. There was hope. Maybe a man could see her scars and still find her attractive. Could she even dare to trust Sean and believe he could be that man?
Before she could say another word, the caveman flung her over his massive shoulder. Her bare ass was topside for the world to see. Well, at least Penelope. Where was her protector now? She looked down to find the little traitor munching on yet another pancake.
“Grrr…put me down, Sean!” Please, you can’t see my scars.
He swatted her on the ass and laughed as he started walking. “Okay!”
She bounced once…twice…and rolled over on the mattress. Maybe if she stayed on her stomach, he wouldn’t mind. She really did want to fuck him. Hell, she wanted to more than fuck him. She wanted to make love to him, have him cuddle her and make her pancakes again tomorrow morning.
A warm hand cupped her ass cheek, making her wiggle and squirm. She peered over her shoulder. Sean was scrambling to unzip his jeans with one hand and squeeze her butt with the other. “Damn, baby, you have the finest ass. I want to bury my face in it.”
Oh my freaking God! Had he really just said that? She knew her face was three shades of red because she too wanted him to do it. “S-Sean, I want you so bad, but I can’t…I can’t take my shirt—”