Page 24 of Invisible Scars
“Falling apart is a very accurate description of what just happened,” I murmur, still riding high as the sweaty pinewood scent of Jonah clouds my senses, and he smiles against the skin of my shoulder as I run my fingers through his tousled hair.
“I still can’t believe that was for real.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, and Jonah leans on his forearms to look at me, taking away the warm shield of his body, his eyes still hazy and his hair mussed, notching his sexy factor up tenfold, the gorgeous brat.
“The dirty talk, the hard fucking, just everything.” He seems to realize he’s talked himself into a corner and struggles to find the words that would get him into the least amount of trouble. “I never took you for the type.”
My legs slide down to the bed. “I didn’t know there was a typecast for liking it dirty and hard.”
Jonah barks out an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
He looks down between our bodies, his brow creasing, and a look of wonder passes over his features before he gently pulls out of me, then sits at the edge of the bed and gives me a clear view of the serpent-entwined rod over his spine.
“What’s that?” I ask, running a finger over the tattoo, and Jonah’s skin bursts into little goosebumps under my touch. “I’ve always wondered.”
“The rod of Asclepius, the Greek god associated with healing and medicine,” Jonah answers, his gaze moving between the door and the floor.
“Right. The one with the wings and two snakes is the staff of Hermes.”
“Yeah, the caduceus.” Jonah sounds slightly surprised I’d know that little detail, and I nod, fascinated by how the swirls and shadowing of ink move with every minuscule flex of his muscles.
The tip of my finger reaches the end of the rod, and I keep trailing down to graze over Jonah’s lower back. I’m about to lean forward and kiss the place my finger came to rest when Jonah abruptly stands with a stifled groan.
“I’ll be right back.” He inhales sharply at the first step but keeps moving, scooping his briefs off the floor as he makes his way to the bathroom. The limp in his right leg seems worse, but that might be my imagination.
I hear the water running, and suddenly, without Jonah around to possess all my senses, the reality of what just happened filters in.
I had sex with Jonah Peak.
Mind-blowing sex of epic proportions, I’ll give him that, but epic or not, I’m a VP, and he’s a department head, which makes me his boss. Also, his brothers own the company, which makes them my bosses. Either way, not an ideal situation for a relationship.
Whoa, who said anything about a relationship?
Not an ideal situation for asexualrelationship.Encounter!
Damn it, Effie.
I grab the covers and wrap them around my chest, acknowledging that letting Jonah into my bed was probably a terrible idea. An idea that’s been in the back of my mind since the first time I saw him, but one I’ve managed to avoid acting on thus far.
I need to get him out of here. Fast.
I wait for Jonah to come back, but he still hasn’t, and I haven’t heard the water running for over two minutes. Cautiously, I get off the bed, holding the sheets tight around me as I follow the same path Jonah made a few minutes ago.
Just as I’m about to knock, the door opens, and my fist lands on Jonah’s chest. I look up, startled. Our gazes connect, and I forget I’m supposed to remove my hand from his bare skin. We stand frozen for a few seconds before Jonah speaks.
“I, uh, guess I should head home?” His gaze is questioning, maybe even guilty.
I know I should tell him that’s exactly what he should do, but my hand is still pressed to his chest, my body still thrumming with a delicious ache, and what Ineedto doonce again gets pushed out of the way in favor of what Iwantto do.
“If that’s what you want.”
He observes me for a moment. “What doyouwant, Effie?”
My gaze wanders down to where my hand is still resting on Jonah’s chest. His skin is smooth except for the scars. I’ve seen them dozens of times but always forced my eyes away from temptation.
My palm travels to one of the burn scars on Jonah’s abs, the muscles of his stomach tightening with a slight quiver under my touch.
“No one should be allowed to be this gorgeous,” I whisper as I keep trailing my fingers over his body, and Jonah lets out a little huff that sounds almost embarrassed.
