Like I’ve never wanted anyone before.

Yes, I wanted him, but he wasn’t for me. More to the point, I wasn’t for him. Like others I’d encountered, he liked the outer packaging, but he’d recoil at what lay underneath.

I liked Jaxxon. A lot. More than I should have, in which case I would welcome a friendship. I didn’t have male friends and I did instinctively trust him, which for me was rare, especially given the size of him. I’d take friendship over something I knew would end with rejection. I didn’t think I could bear seeing the way he looked at me change. So . . . friends.

I moved against the counter opposite him and forced myself to meet his intense gaze.

He reached a hand out to me, and I slowly put mine in his. “The truth,” he said. “I’m not going to pressure you.”

Why would he? Any normal woman in her right mind would take one look at him and strip right there. I should have turned on the damn air-conditioner. The heat in the kitchen became unbearable—Vegas-at-the-height-of-summer kind of heat. I swiped my free hand across my forehead.

Before I could put it back, he caught it in his and pulled me to him. “Relax.” He put both hands on my hips and lifted me to sit on my countertop, putting my face almost level with his. “I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?”

Raising my hands to his shoulders, I cleared my throat. “Yes. But not in a bad way. Do I want you? That isn’t a yes or no question for me.”

“How is it not?” He brought his hands to my knees and drifted his fingers along the sides, making all coherent thoughts scramble.

The warmth of his fingers penetrated the material of my gown, seeping into my skin, my muscles. He felt—right. But he’d been honest with me. He deserved the same in return.

I took a deep breath and met golden-green eyes. “I don’t do casual, and I can’t have—I mean, I don’t have time for a . . . relationship. Besides,” I pressed on, before he could say anything, “When we had coffee, you said you were dating. You were honest, and I appreciate it. This—” I waved a hand between us. “—whatever this is between us can’t go anywhere, and even if it could, if you’re dating or sleeping with me, it’s just me. That’s not what you want.”

Jaxx slid his fingers over my knees and under them. He inched forward, moving between my legs so they dangled along the outside of his. I dragged my hands to his chest. He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. “I figured that out a while ago. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Now.” I pulled back, needing to see his face. “You don’t want anyone else right now.”

Cradling the back of my head in his hands, he wouldn’t let me look away from him. “I hear you, alright, and I’m with you on the whole no time deal, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I can’t wait to see you every morning at the gym. I like talking to you, spending time with you. I want to get to know you better. I’m saying, whatever time we do have, I’d like to spend it with you. No pressure, no agenda, no promise of a future. Is that enough for now?”

How I wished it were. How I wished I could chance something, anything, with this amazing man standing here, breaking down all my walls. “It’s more complicated on my end.”

“Why?”

As he spoke, he stroked his thumbs along my cheeks, under my eyes, down my neck, and my barriers cracked further. My body tingled and pulsed in places it never had before, or at least not to this degree. I couldn’t move my legs, because they were outside of his and I very much needed to. I couldn’t get comfortable.

Time for the reality check. Then we could just move on to being friends, gym buddies, anything but this . . . this small twinge of hope beginning to grow somewhere inside me. Better to be as honest as I could, without total disclosure and give him the out now. “Can you give me some room for a second? I need to show you something. Please.”

He moved back a little, but not enough for me to close my legs. I just needed room to undo the bottom of the left sleeve of my gown. My shaky fingers fumbled with the tiny buttons.

His much larger hands covered mine. “Undo these?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” I managed to get out. When he finished, I jerked the sleeve up over my elbow and started unwrapping the mesh sports tape. Setting the mangled tape ball at my side, I held out the inside of forearm for him to see.

He stared at me for a long time before looking down at my arm and cradling it in his hands. “Die and rise? Latin.”

Jesus, just when I thought he couldn’t get any better. “You read Latin?”

“Had a language prerequisite problem in college, needed something fast. I took Latin as a substitute. The work is fuckin’ beautiful,” he praised, turning my arm for a better view.

I took a deep breath and let it out slow. Only what he needs to know . . . “Thank you. Run your fingers over the middle of letters.” The rough pads of his fingers on my skin, over my scars, were scratchy, unsettling in a way, and yet, so gentle, so . . . beautiful. My heartbeat pounded through my head, in my ears. “If you’ll notice, the letters are thick, perfectly shaped. The middle is heavier and darker than the rest—on purpose.”

“You got it to cover scars?” His eyes sought mine again. “That’s a big scar, babe.”

I nodded. “It’s to both cover the scar and also keep me grounded.”

I couldn’t lie to this man. Sitting here looking at him, I willed the word accident to come, but it wouldn’t. Him standing there, looking at me with those warm, trusting eyes . . .

“I’d tell you I was in an accident when I was younger, which is what I tell people, but I’d be lying. It’s not something I talk about—I hope you can respect that—but I can tell you this . . . I didn’t put these scars on my body, and this is not the only place I have them. What happened left me severely scarred in places—in places that make me unattractive without clothes on. “These, Jaxx . . . ” I lifted my arm higher. “Are not the worst of them by a longshot. I have one that runs around my right thigh to the top of my knee, which is why all the slits in my dresses are on the left side only, and I have more in . . . other places . . . that are much worse.”

On a long exhale, I finally let my chin collapse to my chest.

A hand smoothed into the back of my hair, fisted a good amount of it, and gently lifted my head up. “There’s nothing unattractive about you.”

All the tightness in my upper body drained out of me and I think his hand in my hair was the only thing keeping me upright. “You haven’t seen them.”

His grip grew a little tighter, but not enough to hurt. “That’s not a deal breaker for me.”

“Jaxx!” I jerked away from him and he let go of my hair. He wasn’t getting it.

“Hey! Easy. Talk to me.” He began massaging my scalp, the soothing strokes bleeding the rage right out of me.

“It’s—it’s disgusting. It’s worse than anything you’re imagining right now.” This, this was why I didn’t date. This was why I didn’t get close to men. I didn’t want to do this. And I’d already broken my own rule for him—I told nobody about my scars. Nobody.

“Valentina . . . ” He held my head in a firm grip. “Come on, baby. Relax for me.”

Baby. If that word had come out of any one’s mouth other than him, I’d have flown into a rage. With him, it came across as intimate instead of condescending or sexist. Like a caress. I took shaky breaths until my racing heart rate leveled out.

“Shhh,” he soothed as he stroked my hair, before resting his hands on my shoulders.

I anchored my hands on his thick forearms and was taken aback at how gentle such a large man could be. He was a complete contradiction to any ideal I’d had.

“Do me a favor,” he began in a firm, but soft tone. “Don’t use the word ‘disgusting’ when you’re in any way referring to yourself. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for whatever it is you went through. I understand not wanting to talk about something so personal with someone you just met. I get it, but scars don’t change who you are. Scars I can handle.”

He wasn’t hearing me. Well, if the scars didn’t scare him, might was well go for broke. “Okay, at our age, no need for bullshit, right?”

When he chuckled and a small grin spread across his mouth, I might have popped a blood vessel. Everything about this man came across as sensual, sexy . . . addicting.

“I can’t have kids. If you’re hoping for more children someday and if anyone you date, or ‘spend time with’ is a prospective mother for said hypothetical kids, I’m not that woman.”

My mouth dropped open as a genuine smile plastered across his face.

He nodded once and took both my hands in his before locking them on either side of my legs and leaning into me. “Ironman, huh? I like your style. Let’s get this out of the way. ‘No bullshit.’ I already have two amazing, perfect kids. I don’t need any more. I’m here because I want to be here and I want you. That’s it. But it’s your call.”

The heat of his body warmed mine and my core throbbed in response. What I’d experienced with Rick was nothing compared to the fire Jaxxon lit inside me. He was inches away from me, his mouth centimeters from mine.

I collapsed my head against his chest so I didn’t have to look at him and I didn’t have to wonder exactly what he tasted like. “Okay,” I said, staring down at the minute space between his hips and mine. “As long as we’re clear on where we stand.”

“Not exactly.”

I lifted my head again. “How so?”

Running his thumb over both my lips this time, he stared hungrily at my mouth. “You never answered my question.”

“Then . . . ” I hoped like hell I wouldn’t regret my next words, “Yes. I want you.”