Page 25 of Invisible Scars
“You have an interesting definition for gorgeous, Doll.” My eyes lift back to his, and I tilt my head to the side, trying to understand the bitterness in his tone. “I’m still waiting for an answer, by the way.”
“That depends.” I let my gaze wander over his body again. “This is a onetime only special, Cadet.” His gaze ignites with an electrifying hunger that has my stomach trembling with anticipation. “If you’ve had your fill, you can go, but once you’re out the door—deal’s over.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever have my fill with you,” he says in a husky voice, catching my chin and tilting my face up. “I still haven’t properly kissed you.”
Looking deep into my eyes, Jonah’s fingertips graze my collarbone and smooth up my neck, tracing my lips as his gaze dips down to follow his fingers before returning to mine.
“You really are beautiful, Effie,” he says in a soft voice, and his palm slides down, that slow back and forth of his thumb over my bottom lip almost as titillating as his teeth grazing over the tender skin of my throat, then making his way to my jaw before lightly scraping my bottom lip.
My grip on the sheet loosens, letting it fall to the ground as I circle Jonah’s neck and press my bare body against his. Jonah deepens the kiss with a groan, his hands sliding down to my ass and pulling me closer. My heart pounds as his tongue tangles with mine, sending a rush of desire through me.
“Damn it, Joe, you’re good at this,” I pant breathlessly when he pulls back.
A wicked smile spreads over Jonah’s lips, and he leans down to my ear. “Sometimes I amaze even myself.”
I laugh at hisNew Hopereference, and the crinkles around his eyes deepen with his grin before he leans in, rubbing his chapped lips over mine, then pressing them into soft contact, slowly deepening what’s turning out to be the best kiss I have ever experienced.
After all, on a night full of bad choices, what’s one more mistake?
7
JONAH
It feels oddly comfortingto wake up in Effie’s bed. It’s the first time I’ve been inside her bedroom since we helped her patch up the house over a year ago.
This room has always been ano way in hellzone for me. Just the thought of being in here, knowing this is where she sleeps and does things that are definitivelynotsleeping, it was always a bit beyond my comfort zone.
Yet, here I am, after a night of being an active participant in the definitivelynotsleeping activities and, more disturbingly—the sleeping activities. Not that there was a high chance of nightmares considering I basically passed out by the time Effie and I were done, but just the thought of Effie seeing me in that state, her of all people…
I push the thought aside. There isn’t much to do about it in hindsight, so stretching out my overworked limbs, I decide to take a few moments to examine my surroundings.
Last night I was so singularly focused on Effie, the way her body felt against mine, her taste and her scent, those sounds she made when I was inside her, that look in her eyes when she said she wanted me, when she came for me…Fuck, she’s beautiful when she comes for me.
She was a gravitational field, and every part of me aligned with her pull.
Looking around, I can’t help but admire how she’s set up the space. Warm wooden furniture, off-white with gentle pinks and greens, and paintings on canvas. Everything looks inviting and cozy, opposite from her glass and brass office décor, which exudes an air of detachment.
With a sigh, I weigh my options. Effie has been off limits since the moment she walked through the doors of Peak Security last year. I laid eyes on her and immediately knew—she’s dangerous. I’d be disarmed by those wickedly clever eyes and sharp tongue, by that undeniable softness of hers I craved to get lost in.
She deserves better than what I can give, so I’ve become a master at curbing my attraction to her, convincing myself our little games were enough.
But last night, when she jumped into my arms with fright, I couldn’t help but wrap them around her, pull her close so she’d feel safe. Those long lashes tickled my skin, that innocent contact reminding me of all the things I knew better than to want. The need to protect her, the longing, it all sent lightning ripping through every blockade. It left me powerless against her vibrant eyes, against those three words that filled every desolate part of my soul.
And the way she touched me, her soft palms exploring every inch of me with slow urgency. Most women either actively ignore my scar or try to touch it out of curiosity. But Effie, with her boundaryless ways, hadn’t even noticed until I flinched. And then, rather than shying away or ignoring the situation, she acted as if I was being ridiculous for thinking I could hide any part of myself from her.
She couldn’t care less about the torn-up limb under her palm. All that cursed reminder of my own personal hell is to her is another fragment of me she craved simply because it was part of the package deal called Jonah Peak.
It may have been for a night, it may be no strings attached, but it was real. Which is unnerving because I don’t remember whatrealfeels like anymore. It’s been years since I experienced genuine, deep intimacy with anybody. I didn’t want it. The idea of letting anyone close and reopening the Pandora’s box I fought so hard to lock tight never sat well with me.
And Effie proved me right. I had no defenses against her. And what’s worse—I liked it.
Unable to reach a solid conclusion as to how I feel about spending the night with Effie, I find my briefs and jeans and go through the pile of shirts in Effie’s closet, trying to find a size that fits, only to realize they’re all the same size. Out of sheer curiosity, I check the rest of the men’s clothing, and as I suspected—they’re all the same size as well, even the same style. These clothes aren’t an assortment of ex-boyfriend memorabilia; they’re all for one person.
Part of me is overjoyed that she isn’t hanging on to past lovers, another affirmation that I can’t let this thing pull me in too deep. But another part of me wonders why she’d lie.
There’s a burning pain in my right thigh as I walk to the bathroom.Worth it.I take my phone out of my pocket and swear under my breath when I see a message from Andrew about my jeep being in Effie’s driveway at 5 AM.
I’ll have to deal with that later.
