Scars had just switched off the coffeemaker when he heard a knock at his front door. He paused, puzzled. One of the benefits of living way the hell up in the mountains was that he never had anyone just randomly showing up and knocking at his door. He figured it had to be Wolf, because who else could it be? Maybe he’d gotten up crazy-early, and was ready to go, and decided to come out here and pick Scars up? Then again, he had heard a car engine go by, not a bike motor, so maybe it was a lost soul, seeking directions back to the city?
He strode across his living room, opened the door – and goggled down at Zoe, standing there in the morning sun, looking golden and gorgeous, balancing two steaming cups of takeout coffee and a box of pastries.
“Hi,” she began, but that’s as far as she got, because Wolf narrowed his eyes, said, “Oh, hell, no!” and shut the door in her face.
Zoe stared at the door, sighed. OK, fair enough. She totally deserved that, and honestly, she deserved way worse. She bit her lip, wondering just how bad it was going to get, then squared her shoulders. The man was more than entitled to his anger, and she respected that.
She set the coffees and pastries down on the porch table, tapped at the door again. “Scars?”
“What? What the fuck are you doing here, Zoe?”
“I’m standing on your front porch, talking to you through a door. What are you doing?”
She heard him pause, knew that he was remembering the conversation they’d had that night at her house. When he’d been the one on the porch holding food and drink, and she’d been the one inside, refusing to be helpful.
“I’m wondering just how the hell you know where I live,” he snapped. “You been following me?”
“Wolf told me.”
“Bastard. I’ll be having a word with him.”
“Scars?”
“What? What the actual fuck can you possibly want? You said everything on your mind yesterday, and you were crystal clear that I’m an untrustworthy asshole who’s gonna hurt you, hurt your kid, wreck your life, basically end the world as you know it. I’m done, Zoe. If you’re here to get in my pants and then kick me in the balls again, don’t hold your breath. Or, actually, on second thought, do. Hold your breath for a long, long time.”
“It was a bit hard to hear all that through the door, so could you please open it up? Maybe come out here and sit with me? I’d love to talk to you like normal people do, over a coffee and croissant I brought some, and everything’s fresh and hot.”
“I’m cutting back on caffeine, starting right now, so you can just drink the damn coffee yourself,” he said coldly, and she remembered her telling him that on her first day at the parlor, when he’d brought her coffee as a peace-offering and an ice-breaking conversation-starter. He was throwing her words back in her face, and for the first time, she truly heard and understood how childish and churlish she’d been with this man. She thought that he had to be in the running for sainthood by now. “But thanks anyway. You can get going.”
“OK, I’ll go,” she said, making up her mind how to handle this next.
“Bye.”
“I’ll go after I have a coffee with you out here. I’m not leaving until you take what I’ve brought you and we’ve cleared the air properly, so you might as well open the door, Scars. It’s an absolutely perfect morning up in the mountains, and your front porch has an awfully comfy chair to just hang out in and enjoy nature.”
Silence.
“OK, then,” she said brightly, sitting down and opening one of the styrofoam lids. “I’m waiting for you to come out. Or not. Your call.”
“Jesus Christ, Zoe. You’re the most damn impossible female ever born.”
The door opened now, and he stood there in jeans and a tight black t-shirt, looking at her grimly. There wasn’t even the slightest bit of warmth or welcome on his face, or in his body language, and she didn’t blame him at all. She’d been nothing but a bitch to this man, and she’d pushed him beyond what was acceptable, with her push-and-pull, her drama and dramatics, her hot-and-cold.
If she wanted him in her life, then she had to open up. It was time to be honest.
“Thank you for coming out,” she said quietly, picking up his coffee and offering it to him. “Please… would you sit?”
He stared at her, with a bit of confusion now, and she waited. She wasn’t surprised that he was being wary and wondering what was up. After all and despite her nasty accusations, she’d been the one playing games, not him, and he’d been the one waiting for the other shoe was going to drop, not her. She knew he was standing there and wondering what awful, terrible, untrue thing she was going to fling at him next, and again, that was a fair way for him to think about her.
Her past behavior had caused this mess. Her current behavior had to be better, it had to be her best self. Sure, she was still afraid, and God knows, she didn’t want to talk about what happened in that bar back room, but she was going to do it for Scars. He deserved the truth. What he decided to do with it afterwards, if anything at all, well… that was up to him.
It was his turn to call the shots.
He sat now, turned the cup of coffee around and around in his large hands, watching her closely. Said nothing. So Zoe launched in.
“Just over six years ago, I was dating a guy named Bear Ellis.”
Scars started. He hadn’t thought about that man since he’d been gunned down by The Fallen Angels five years before. They’d never been close, but Bear had been one of his brothers. “You – you knew Bear?”
“Yes.” She took a shuddering breath. “Wolf introduced us, and we were together for about two months.”
Scars blinked, and suddenly pieces started to fall into place. If Zoe had been in love with Bear Ellis and he’d been brutally murdered, then no wonder she was fighting so hard against her attraction to Scars. She wouldn’t want to get involved with another MC guy, would she, not if there was any chance of him being blown off the planet.
It explained so much. Her lack of trust in relationships being more than temporary. Her attraction to him, and then repulsion. Her disdain and suspicion of all things club-related.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “It must have been horrible to lose him that way.”
She shot him a look, and it wasn’t one that made any sense. “It really wasn’t.”
“Ummmm.” And just like that, he was back in the goddamn dark that was his normal state of being when dealing with Zoe Parish. “No?”
“No,” she hissed. “I hated him. I wished him dead every day, and then when he was, all I thought was that the world was better off without him.”
“So… so you weren’t in love with him?”
“No. He’s the reason that I left Denver screaming and never looked back. He – he hurt me, Scars.”
Those amazing eyes were angry, intense. He set down his coffee. “Tell me, Zoe. Now.”
“I will,” she whispered. “It’s – I find it hard to talk about, Scars, so I’m begging you to please be patient with me. I know it’s the last thing that I deserve, that I’ve got a lot of nerve to expect one more second of goodwill from you, but please, just a bit more patience, and just a bit longer. Is that OK?”
“You got it, baby,” he said, starting to feel much less angry, and much more concerned. “Take your time.”
She nodded, looked away from him to the glorious mountains. She knew that she’d never be able to talk about this while meeting that mesmerizing blue gaze, so the trees and rocks and birds it was. She took a breath.
“Like I said, Wolf introduced us, and because Bear was one of his brothers, I was more open than I would normally have been to a guy from an MC. I mean, I had a vague idea by then what kind of world Wolf was living in, but he’d done a really good job of keeping the worst of it from me, and protecting me from too much knowledge. So when Bear started paying attention to me, I was flattered, I guess. I figured that he had his choice of women and hangers-on, and… well. He was called Bear for a reason, and I’ve always liked tall, strong men.”
She gave Scars a quick look as he sat there in the sun, and she admired his physique. Her whole body remembered what it had been like to be held against that mountain of muscle, and she felt a twinge of sadness that it might never happen again. She looked away, took another breath.
“I was incredibly busy working at a tattoo place from hell, and saving money to help Hailey through her hairdressing course. So even though me and Bear were kind of dating for two months, and I hung out at Satan’s when I could manage it, we never… you know. Never slept together.”
Privately, Scars thought that Bear would have been enthusiastically banging anything that moved, because no way that jerk would have held out for any woman. He knew that Zoe knew that, so he said nothing, just nodded.
“So this one night…” She cleared her throat. “This one night, I showed up at Satan’s in the middle of a huge party, and I was kind of… I was planning to sleep with Bear that night.” She flushed, shifted in her chair. “I guess I just – I felt like it was time, you know? He wasn’t the love of my life or anything, but I was twenty-six and horny and he was gorgeous and totally into me, I thought and… you know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“So I was all dressed up for him, like a woman on a seductive mission. Stupid-short skirt and high heels and the tiniest, tightest halter top that you can imagine. When I walked in, all sexy and swaggering, Bear practically ran at me, then kissed me and dragged me into the back room. The one that you and I first went into that first night.”
He looked at her sharply. “Where you said, ‘any room but this one’?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, shit, baby.” His stomach had turned to a block of ice. “What the hell did that asshole do to you back there?”
“Nothing bad, at first. It was – it was good. Enjoyable, even. He undressed me, kissed me, touched me. He was – I thought that it was going to be fun. But then… he changed.” She shook her head, and made her voice go flat and emotionless for the next part. “There was no warning when he slapped me across the face, hard. Hard enough to knock me to my knees on the fourth slap. When I tried to get up, he punched me until he loosened a tooth, and when I tried to crawl away, he grabbed me by my hair and dragged me across to the pool table. He threw me down on it, and he hit me until I think I was knocked out cold. When I came to, I was tied down with my legs open… and there were about ten other guys in the room with us.”
“What?” Scars said, appalled. “He went and got a bunch of other guys?”
“His MC brothers,” she said. “Guys who were your brothers at the time, Scars. Yours and Wolf’s.”
“Oh, no,” he said, finally starting to see, to understand. “Zoe, please tell me that they didn’t –”
“Bear started touching me all over,” she said, and he knew from her numb, blank expression that she was starting to go back there in her mind. “He was saying – saying awful things about me. Calling me names. The other guys were watching and laughing, and when I begged them to help me, they just laughed more. Then they started telling Bear to do things to me, like putting his hand over my mouth and nose so I couldn’t breathe, and sticking his dick in my mouth by force, and they wanted him to – to rape me with the pool cue.”
“No.” Scars felt sick now, actually physically sick. “Tell me that he didn’t do that. Zoe, please, baby. Tell me that none of that happened.”
“The suffocation and forced blow-job did,” she said quietly. “And way more stuff, too. Lots of punching. Cutting my breasts with a knife. Beating the bottoms of my feet. Bear was asking for money, see. Said that I was his little whore, and told the guys that if they wanted to see him force me to do something, then they had to put their money on the table. A guy would put down the cash, tell Bear what to do, and Bear did it to me. The pool cue – he said that was the grand finale, and the honor of doing that to me would go to the highest bidder to do personally So he was taking his time, I think, teasing them and whipping up the excitement.”
“Fucking animals,” Scars growled, beyond anger now, well into rage, hoping hard that none of those creatures were still in the MC, because if so, they were dead men walking. “Zoe –”
“I don’t remember exactly when the guys all unzipped and pulled out their dicks,” she said, and he fell silent at the new horror that she’d experienced at the hands of his brothers. “They were all… they were jerking off and watching Bear hurt me, and then he offered to let them – let them – he said they could take turns.”
“Stop,” he said, not wanting to hear anything more, knowing exactly what that fucking prick had offered to let them do to her. “Stop, baby.”
“I was screaming by then, just screaming, but nobody was coming. Bear told me that nobody would ever come and help a stupid whore, that I was club property and they owned me, and so they could do whatever they wanted to me. Nobody would help, nobody would care.” She took a shuddering breath. “I – I believed him. I finally understood how they thought of women, you see, and I understood way too late. For them, women were just holes to fuck, things to use, objects to break and discard. I started to kind of space out then, I think, just kind of zone out.”
“You were in shock, baby,” Scars said gently. “And no wonder.”
“Right after he told them that he was open to them taking turns with me, things get kind of fuzzy. I know they didn’t touch me, and I clearly remember Bear handing the pool cue to one guy… I think his name was Spike. I shut my eyes because I knew what was coming – but it never happened.”
“Why not?” Scars asked, fiercely sorry that Spike had also been killed in The Fallen Angels shoot-out, because Scars would have had serious plans for him. “Did Spike develop a conscience?”
“No. No. Wolf found me.”
“Thank Christ.”
“The look on his face, Scars. I’ll never forget it.” She shivered, sure that that was how Wolf always looked just before taking a human life. “I don’t know what he said or why they listened to him, but they did. They actually ran out of there, just ran like the cowards that they were, and Wolf took care of me. Untied me, and wrapped me in his own clothes, and just held onto me. I was a wreck, to put it mildly. I was screaming and crying and shaking, and I couldn’t talk for about four hours after. I was freezing and I kept throwing up. I hurt all over, I couldn’t walk from them beating the soles of my feet.”
“Jesus.”
“Wolf finally carried me out of there, took me to the hospital. The cops were very interested in what had happened, and they decided that Wolf was a great suspect. They’d been trying to get him on something for a while, and I guess they decided this was as good a thing as any. They dragged him bodily down to the station for questioning, and when he violently resisted because he didn’t want to leave me alone, they arrested him for assaulting me, and assaulting a police officer. He spent six months in jail for that.” She sighed, and he saw that she’d pulled herself together again. “If I’d had a clue what was happening around me, I’d have told them that it wasn’t him, but I was in no condition to talk.”
“No way he blames you for that, Zoe.”
“He doesn’t, not at all. He also understands why I checked myself out of the hospital the next afternoon, went home, packed a bag, and got in my car.”
“You ran that very next day?”
“I knew that the only thing protecting me from Bear and the guys was Wolf – and he was in jail by then, no bail granted. I was afraid, Scars. I was sure they’d come back and finish the job, just to shut me up. So you see, when all those guys were killed in that shoot-out the next year, I felt zero regret that they were dead. I knew that Wolf was conflicted and hurt, but he understood that for me, it was a huge relief.”
“Did he want you to come back then?”
“He asked. I refused. He never asked again – until a few months ago. And now, here I am.”
“Here you are,” Scars echoed. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this, baby? I’d have helped you, you know. I’d have made sure we went slow, made you feel safe and secure. I’d have understood all the confusion and fear, and I sure as hell would have talked to you about anything you were thinking or feeling.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have, I know. But, honestly? You took me by surprise, right from the very beginning. I never saw you coming, I never expected what you offered and who you are. I kept shocking myself when I was with you, kept being amazed by the things I wanted to do with you, the things that I begged for you to do to me.”
He reached for her hand now, and she took it. He rubbed her cold fingers, wishing that he could hold her, but not sure that she was ready for that yet.
“The thing is, Scars, I just – when I was with you, I vacillated between feeling so damn much, and then thinking too damn much about what I was feeling. Back and forth like a pendulum, swinging between wanting to be close to you, then wanting to get the hell away from you. I had no plan, and I didn’t know what I was thinking or feeling. I didn’t know if I trusted you, if I trusted myself – so I had no idea how to tell you any of this. I just didn’t know.”
“It’s OK, baby. Everything is OK.”
She finally looked at him. “It is?”
“It is.”
“So – you can forgive me?” she said. “Forgive all the unfair and awful things that I accused you of, and for taking all that happened out on you?”
“Nothing to forgive.”
“No?”
“No.” He stood now, then knelt down in front of her. So slowly, so gently, watching her eyes the whole time, he cupped her face in his hands. “I understand you now, Zoe. I see you and I want you, all of you. Will you let me in, baby? Into your life? A little bit more every day, a little bit at a time?”
“If I do this, Scars… if I let you into my life, let you in with me and Keira, you can’t let me down. You can’t mess me around, or cheat on me. You can’t leave me. Leave us.” She hesitated. “You can’t – you can’t hurt us.”
“I won’t.” He shook his head, his voice hoarse with emotion. The thought of so much as raising a hand or even his voice to either one of them made him physically sick; the thought of walking away from them damn near killed him. “I never will.”
“You promise me?”
“On my life, beautiful.” He held her eyes, still saw doubt there. “Can you trust me, Zoe? Trust what I’m telling you?”
“I want to. God, I want to.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start. OK?”
Zoe bit her lip, thought for a few more seconds. At last – at long, long last – she nodded. Scars reached for her now, carefully, hoping to Christ that she didn’t pull away. When she stayed put, the relief that moved over him was huge enough to overwhelm him.
He took her in his arms, held her to him. And when she gave a deep, shuddering exhale and sat still and let him hold her, just fucking hold her, close and safe and tight, he knew that she’d surrendered. For a woman like Zoe, that was the hardest thing in the world to do, and her faith in him was both humbling and empowering.
“I understand you now, too,” she said, her words muffled against his broad shoulder. “Wolf told me about… about your parents. I’m so, so sorry, Scars.”
He was silent for a few seconds, then he sighed. “I’m glad you know, Zoe. That night changed the whole direction of my life, for better and worse, and it took me to some dark places. But it also brought you to me, baby.”
“It brought you to me, too.”
He lifted her chin now, and she gazed up at him, those clear green eyes so calm and sweet. And he knew that for the first time, Zoe had truly accepted what she wanted with him and from him, and his heart squeezed. She was absolutely, stunningly beautiful in her serenity and submission.
“Baby, stay with me for as long as you can. Let me love you.”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Yes, Scars. Please.”
“Keira?”
“Maria said that she can stay overnight tonight, so I don’t have to go anywhere.” She gave him a tiny smile. “I won’t be running off again, I promise.”
“You know that there’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said softly. “Not with me, and sure as hell not from me. No need to run, not ever again.”
“I know.”
He stood up. “I have to tell Wolf that I won’t be going to Colorado Springs with him. I think he’ll understand.”
“He’s already gone.”
Scars paused. “He’s what?”
“I talked to him this morning and told him everything. He told me to come talk to you, gave me directions to your house, and he said that you could pay your respects to Wheels’ widow another way and another time. He told me to do what I had to do to make things right with you.”
“So… so he’s OK with this? With us?”
“Totally. He said that he wasn’t too sure at first, but he saw that you weren’t messing me around. In fact, he and the guys were getting tired of me messing you around.”
“Wait. The guys know?”
“Yep. They’re crossing their fingers that we get our act together. Again, they really mean me.”
“Thank Christ. Also, they aren’t wrong.”
She smiled, then laughed. “So – I’m all yours, handsome. No secrets, no sneaking around, no hiding from anyone.” Her eyes sparkled. “What do you want to do to me?”
“Come here, beautiful.”
Zoe stood up, legs trembling, crossed the porch to where the most amazing, wonderful man that she’d ever known was standing and waiting for her. He opened his arms, and she just walked right on into them, like she’d been born to be right there in his embrace.
Scars slid his hands down her body, cupped her rounded ass in her loose dress, and lifted her right off her feet. She gave a small cry of surprise and grabbed his shoulders. He wrapped her one leg around his waist, then the other, then turned to sit her on the porch railing.
“Don’t move,” he said, gently untangling her long limbs. He kissed each of her hands, then pushed her golden curls back off her forehead. “I’ll be back. Just going to get something from my bedroom.”
“OK,” she said pertly. “I’ll wait right here.”
“You’d better, baby,” he rasped. “‘Cause if you make me track you through the woods, you’ll be damn sorry what happens when I catch you.”
Her eyes sparked at the thought of Scars Innis pursuing her through the mountains, and unlike what had happened to her all those years ago, that scenario of pursuit and primal play appealed to her. A lot.
Because I trust him. I trust that he won’t hurt me.
Zoe watched him walk into the house, and took a deep breath. She felt so light now, so unburdened. Younger and freer than she’d felt in ages. Maybe in forever.
He was coming back now, and her eyes widened when she saw that he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. Hungrily, she watched him approach, moving with his usual grace and power, that something else that he had coming at her in waves. It was so tangible, that strength and dignity that he possessed, and she wanted to be washed away by him. Again.
“The changes Arrow and I made to your tattoo,” she said when he was standing in front of her again. “What do they mean? The ‘twenty-three’ and the sunburst? And the rose?”
“Almost twenty-three years since I lost my parents,” he said. “I never ink on the anniversary, I always do it when I feel ready.”
“Oh,” she said, touching the fresh tattoo gingerly. “I’m sorry.”
“The sunburst is for Sam,” Scars said. “He’s a Leo, born in August, and he’s the brightest, smartest thing in my life. I add sunbursts every year to remind myself what I could have lost that night, but I didn’t. He’s my kid brother, and he’s the best thing I ever did, one of the very few things that I did right by.”
She smiled, thinking about Keira. “And the rose in ice?”
He looked at her fixedly, his head cocked. “What do you think, baby?”
“I don’t know.”
“No? You sure?”
“Ummmm. Yes.”
Scars smiled at her, traced her lips with his fingertip. “Something beautiful, delicate, fragile, with hidden thorns. With inner light and strength, but not completely trusting its own softness and vulnerability. Something that encased itself in ice, and used lack of emotion as protection. Something that was frozen in time, waiting for spring, just aching to thaw and reach out.” His finger pressed on her lower lip now, and helplessly, mindlessly, she opened to him. “Does that sound like anyone you know, Zoe?”
She nodded, then moaned as he started to slide his finger inside her mouth.
“Suck,” he commanded in a low growl. “Nice and easy, baby.”
She did as he said, feeling the area between her legs get hotter and wetter with every pull and lick. All she could wish was that it wasn’t his finger – she wanted to please him desperately, and she wanted to do that one way.
“Scars?” she murmured.
“Mmmm-hmmm?”
Her thighs clenched. “Can I please go down on you?”
“Well… since you said ‘please’.” He stepped back, and she slid off the railing. “As you wish, baby. Get naked first, though. I want you giving me everything when your mouth is on me.”
Zoe undressed in record time, feeling vulnerable in all the best ways, then went to her knees in front of him, loving how his boxers were tented out in front of him. Slowly, she lowered them, and when he sprang out, she sighed in sheer happiness. Her fingers encircled his girth, and she realized how much she’d missed being so open to Scars. His cock, his smile, his kisses, his arms. Everything. That one night they’d had had burrowed deep into her skin, into her bones, into her lungs, and cutting herself off from him had really just strangled her own breath, suffocated her own body.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said now, starting to stroke his incredible length. “I want to taste you… please?”
“Yes, baby. Do what you want.”
She took him in her mouth, took him deep right away, and his answering groan was the sweetest music she’d ever heard. She was finding genuine pleasure in pleasing him, and suddenly, all she wanted was to worship his cock. Just stay on her knees, and use her mouth to make love to Scars.
So that’s what Zoe did. She lapped the length of him, then gave him delicate little licks, then twirled her tongue around his head, loving the salty-sweet pre-cum that pearled there. She closed her lips over him, slid up and down slowly, applying more pressure with every pass. She opened her throat, and sucked him deep and hard, felt him pressing against the back of her throat. And when he pressed the back of her head with both hands, holding her in place to accept his gentle thrusts, she closed her eyes and loved every second of his whispered encouragement.
With a curse, Scars pulled out of her eager little mouth. God, as much as he wanted to come in her supple, grasping throat, he wanted to come on her hot little body more. He hauled her to her feet, grabbed a cushion from one of the porch chairs, and set it on the railing. Her eyes flared with excitement when she understood what he was going to do, and when he lifted her and gently sat her on the cushion, she smiled.
“What are you smiling at, beautiful?” he asked, running his fingers through her hair. “You happy?”
“Yes,” she said, and he believed her. “I’m happy with you.”
Scars grabbed the condom and stroked his massive erection for a few seconds, knowing that she loved that. She watched his hand, feeling her pussy spasm and twitch, wishing that it was her mouth on him again. He opened the condom, and she bit her lip when he rolled it on quickly, then stepped between her legs, wrapped them around his hips once more. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her lower lips, and she threw back her head and called his name.
“Ready, baby?” he said, teasing her, pushing in an inch, then retreating, pushing in again, pulling out. “Or should we eat those croissants that you brought over?”
She growled at him now, a feral, female sound of need and impatience, and dug her fingernails into his ass and lower back, raked them across his flesh. He gasped, loving that she was going to leave marks on him again, then entered her in one strong, smooth stroke.
“Ah!” Zoe cried as her body opened to him, then clamped down hard. “Scars – my God…”
“Tell me when you’re coming,” he whispered in her ear as he started to make sexy little figure-eights with his hips, deep inside her. “I want to know, so you tell me. And I want to come on your breasts, Zoe… is that OK?”
She nodded, and he knew she was sinking into her pleasure now and going non-verbal. He kissed her, and started to thrust in a building rhythm, faster, faster, faster again, telling her how amazing she felt around him, and she moved with Scars, moved over and over, and she felt him inside her, thick and hard and so hot – and suddenly Zoe’s entire existence shrank to her wild, frantic, blossoming need.
“Now,” she whimpered, barely able to form the word. “Now, now, now!”
“Fuck, yes,” he said, loving how she shook and melted around him. “Come for me, beautiful. Come hard.”
Unable to do anything except what he told her, Zoe’s world went black, then exploded into stars, over and over again. She was still coming in tiny bursts when Scars pulled out of her, and him rubbing his fingers against her clit while he yanked off the condom extended her pleasure, set it off once more.
“Oh!” she cried, unable to believe that it was happening again. “Now, now!”
“That’s my good girl,” he breathed, stroking himself fast and hard. “Come with me this time. Come on, baby… give me one more. Now.”
She sobbed as her second orgasm crashed over her, and Scars groaned as he gave up all control, and just released over her perfect breasts. Zoe gasped, loving the sticky heat on her, feeling like this man had just claimed her in all the ways that truly mattered.
“God, yes,” he said, thinking that he could die here and now, and be the happiest man alive. “Zoe… you’re amazing, baby.”
She touched her glistening chest, moved her hand to her mouth. She held his eyes as she sucked his pleasure off her fingers, thinking that he tasted like pure, unapologetic, animal lust.
“You filthy girl,” he said thickly, his chest still heaving. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”
She smiled at him, and she was radiantly lovely. His angel with the soul of the sweetest sinner he’d ever known, his reason for believing in fifth chances.
“Does this mean that you want to keep me, handsome?”
“Hell, yeah.” Scars lowered his lips to hers, and was astonished that he was hardening again already, that he wanted her again so soon. “I’m keeping you, Zoe. You’re mine.”
“Yours,” she said, and the second the word left her mouth, she set down her last fear, her last reservation, her last protest. Her walls were gone, just blown apart by this man’s amazing patience and kindness and belief in her. She was a rose without a cage of ice, and she found herself stretching, reaching to the sun, wanting to be both warmed and protected by its power. “Yours, Scars. I promise.”