Page 93 of A Searing Acquaintance
Darcy met her eyes, and Elizabeth could have sobbed at the open expression of trust she saw on his sweet, vulnerable face. He lay back on the chaise; she hovered over him, her weight on one arm.
She bent down and kissed the thin white scar on his jaw. “Where did this come from?” she asked, her voice gently caressing him.
“First time I shaved. Or tried to. I was fifteen.”
“Poor baby.” Elizabeth kissed it and moved over him. Straddling his waist, she unbuttoned his shirt and spread it open before tugging it off. She bent over and inspected him with her eyes and lips. She descended slowly and kissed his heart. “I hope I didn’t leave a scar,” she whispered.
He gripped her head and made her meet his eyes. “Permanently etched, not scarred,” he said firmly.
A white line on the side of his tanned stomach caught her eyes. “Ohh…what’s this?”
“Appendix. Also fifteen.”
She trailed kisses over the offending mark. “I was nine when mine came out. Almost the same year as you.”
She sat up and slowly unworked the fastenings on his shorts. He raised his hips, eyes never leaving hers, and she pulled the shorts off with his boxers. His erection, already at half-mast, rallied and rose.Elizabeth gave it a gentle kiss and continued her work as he sighed her name.
She inventoried a thick scar on his left knee (catching salamanders when he was seven), a small scar on his hip (fell off his bike at eleven), two bruises, and a few scrapes from their walk through the heather. His hands, other than a couple of scratches from the cats, were remarkably free of injury. The tan line from the watch he’d removed earlier demanded some of her attention. “A distinguishing mark, albeit temporary,” she murmured.
She straightened. “Roll over, sweetheart.”
He obeyed silently. Never before had he called on such reserves of self-control. He lay on his stomach, trembling, his arms cradling his head.
Elizabeth pulled her sundress over her head and tossed it aside; her bra and panties followed. She worked her way up him slowly. He was so lean, so sleek and muscular. She conveyed her approval of his calves and thighs, nipped his bottom to leave her own fresh mark, and began her inspection of his back. It was beautifully tan, soft, smooth skin until she reached his shoulder blades. Then the scars began. She gently kissed one, then another, running the tip of her tongue along the ridge of an especially vivid mark.
“God, Elizabeth,” he moaned. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do,” she murmured, head bent to her task. She stretched out atop him, kneading his unmarked shoulder while focusing her love on the other. “Tell me how you got them.” She held her breath, hoping her instinctual approach was the right one.
Darcy took a deep breath and, in an even almost emotionless voice, began the story. It sounded like a recitation.This is how he’s always told it.
“The truck hit us on the left. Our car flipped over. I was thrown against the door and broke my collarbone and my right hand. I tore my left side trying to pull out Georgie. But she’d died instantly; her neck was snapped.”
Oh my God. Oh my God.Elizabeth squeezed back tears. She bent down and laid her head on his scarred shoulder, determined not to weep.Focus on him.
“She didn’t suffer, Will,” she whispered. “She loved you; she was a happy little girl.”
“I know,” he said, his voice rough.
“Focus on that. Think of the happy parts of the past. Yourmemories can remind you of that love, of how you loved her and your mother, not the accident that took their lives.”
She raised herself and gently tugged him to turn over. His eyes, bright with unshed tears, gazed at her intently. “Always remember, always know that I want to hear stories about them and about you, but don’t let your memories be seared by what happened. They live on in what you tell me, in the way you live your life, in the good things you do for other people.”
A tear escaped the corner of his eye and ran down into his hair. He couldn’t think. He was awash in her eyes, full of love, and the beauty of her naked body in the moonlight.
“You have so much love in you. You’ve given me so much love and care and protection,” Elizabeth continued, her voice quiet and full of emotion. “You saved my book, you saved my name. You captured my heart.” Elizabeth sighed as tears welled up. “You’re amazing. The best man I’ve ever known.”
Darcy reached up to cup her cheek with a trembling hand. “Yousavedme. You keep thanking me for my help, but it was you, for months, pulling me out of the darkness. It’s always been there on the edges. But it’s mostly gone now. I don’t feel it as I did for so long.”
He exhaled a shaky sigh. “I love you, Elizabeth. So very much.”
“I love you, my sweet man.”
She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. The soft kiss quickly turned into something more as his need for her overwhelmed them. His fingers wove into her hair as he pulled her closer. Elizabeth moaned as his tongue, touching hers, fueled her desire to show him how much she loved him. She reached down and gently stroked him, hard and hot, and felt the wetness at his tip. He gasped as she lifted her hips and slowly lowered herself onto him.
Darcy’s eyes flashed and then closed. His hips rose off the cushion and began to match the gentle rhythm Elizabeth set. She rocked slowly, sliding up and down, watching his face. His eyes opened and stared deeply into hers. He pulled her down closer so he could breathe her in. He had fallen, was still falling, captive in every way to this woman. It was the last thought he had before her muscles clenched, he felt himself tighten, and they surged together under the glittering canopy of stars.
CHAPTER TWENTY
