Will the visible lies marked on my body make him look at me different? Will he finally taste the lies on my lips? He assumes he knows me. I didn’t choose to be an independent woman; I was forced into this solitary life to survive. All my insecurities rise to the surface the closer we get to my apartment.

I’ve never cared about what men thought of my scars. Our time together was as forgettable as they were so there wasn’t any need to harp on my flaws. But Kase isn’t forgettable and I do care. Too much. The desire flashing in his eyes, burns inside me too but the war going on with my feelings has me twisted.

He has scars too. I repeat over and over to myself. Except his are admirable, mine are just a reminder of how parts of my life were ripped away from me. Sighing heavily, I push the thoughts from my head. Kase stops us outside my apartment building and stands tall in front of me. The overhead street lamp shines down, illuminating his strong facial features. His eyes flicker across my face. “If I snapped a picture what would your story be?”

I turn my attention to the red brick building and softly chuckle having heard this question a million times in my photography classes. What would my story be right now? A paralyzed woman who feels her body wake up, each nerve sparking to life. It’s terrifying, yet exhilarating at the same time.

“Little Red Riding Hood?” he teases. “Or maybe Hansel and Gretel?”

I peer up at him. “Why are you picking stories where I’m about to be eaten alive?”

The wicked gleam in his eyes sends a rush of heat down my back. I swallow as he leans down and kisses the curve of my neck. “You should definitely run,” he whispers against my skin. Every brush of his lips against my warm skin melts away the concerns. I want this. I want him.

If a man can’t accept my flaws, our story won’t be worth reading. He’d be moved to my did-not-finish pile. It happens.

I link our fingers, flash a sweet smile and lead him inside my building. We walk up the stairs, stealing quick glances at each other. I try not to focus on how many levels we have left, how my breathing accelerates — and not because of the anticipation — but the apparent need to walk the stairs more often. It’s only six freaking flights of stairs. He fights back a smile, mocking my athletic ability.

I slap him on the arm. “Stop making fun of me,” I say, winded.

His laugh echoes down the hall as he holds up his hands. “I didn’t say anything.”

I squeal in surprise as he swoops down and tosses me over his shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

“I’d hate for you to faint from exhaustion before I get you inside.”

I snort. “My door is only a few feet away. I could’ve managed.”

“Better safe than sorry.” He slaps my ass when we get to my door. “Where’s the key?”

The blood rushing to my head doesn’t make digging through my clutch upside down easy. “You could put me down,” I huff.

“I could. But I’m not.” He holds out his hand, waiting for the key.

I place the key in his hand. “You’re so romantic,” I snicker. It results in another swat to my ass. Heat spreads across my face and I’m thankful he can’t see me. I shouldn’t like it, but holy shit, desire surges through me, starting with the sting on my ass.

When he slides me down his body, he leans me against my door. I drop my clutch to the side and he drops my keys. He focuses on my mouth and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. “These lips could heal a dying man,” he rasps. The way he says it, profoundly intense, I wonder what's on his mind. With a slight tilt to my head, his eyes flash to mine.

“I thought I was the one about to die in this story?” I say to lighten the sudden serious mood. He shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He smirks and slowly runs his hands down my arms. When he gets to my wrists, he grips them, moving them over my head.  

“Ecstasy induced death. It might be a thing.”

“God, I hope,” I say, sounding a little too desperate. He hums when I let my head settle back against the door and close my eyes.

“God has nothing to do with this.” He seizes both my hands with one of his and snakes his other one down my waist to the hem of my snug dress. His fingertips graze my hypersensitive skin and I shiver. “Fuck, Ellie,” he breathes heavily on my neck. “I’m trying so hard to take this slow.” His chest heaves against my aching breasts.

“Slow is overrated,” I whisper. I don’t need slow or gentle. I need him. “Unzip my dress.”

He lets go of my hands, and I fold them around his neck, leaning forward into him so he has plenty of room. With the speed of a racer getting out of a burning car, my dress is pooling at my feet, we’re entangled in a frantic case of hungry kisses, and drowning with need. He lifts me up and carries me to my bedroom. It surprises me when I hit the soft bed we didn’t run into anything since our mouths never came up for air.

It’s not until he stands and the frosty air hits me while he reaches back to pull off his shirt, do I realize I’m laying almost naked, overhead lights glaring down on me like a spotlight. The vulnerability of the situation is heavy as I grab the throw blanket. He watches me as I cover my stomach, his brows pinch in confusion. I swallow, not wanting this to be a thing.

He crawls back on top of me, the soft blanket acts as a barrier between us and he kisses me until my body relaxes, just past the point of forgetting about being naked. He knows too because his hand slips the cover out from between us. I grip it when it’s almost out.

“Uh-uh,” he whispers, taking hold of my hand and peeling the blanket out from my fingertips. I close my eyes, steadying my breathing. I guess baring your soul isn’t as easy as one thinks. “Look at me, Ellie.” I chew the inside of my cheek, a storm of emotions brewing inside my heart. “You’re so beautiful. You need to get out of your head.” He lifts my hands again. “Keep them here,” he demands. I nod but keep my eyes closed. Seeing pity or worse, a recoil reaction, would not only ruin tonight, but it’d break me.

As his lips skim the small scar on my chest, I fist the comforter underneath me knowing he’s yet to see the others.  Every muscle in my body tenses when he moves down. Soft kisses graze the tops of my breasts, and I can’t help but smile when he groans. But it fades fast when he continues his path. The air conditioner kicks on, blowing ice cold air on my clammy face. I'm about to faint. The five-inch scar across my stomach, that doesn’t have feeling, is sparking to life as Kase drags his lips across it.

“What’s this mean?” He scrapes his finger up my side, over my tattoo and I shiver.

“Sii la luce che ti guida,” I whisper in Italian. “It means be the light that leads you.” I chance looking down to catch his expression. He nods twice while tracing the sentence with his finger, seemingly deep in thought.

“I like it. Do you speak Italian?”

“No,” I grin. “But I liked how it sounded in Italian.”  

When he climbs back up my body and kisses me again, I'm able to release the breath I was holding.

“I’m not done,” he murmurs. “I’m just getting started.” The muscles that had just relaxed coil tightly around his words.

Stop thinking and just feel.

I push the insecurities, the darkness that looms right behind them out of my head. He’s seen the scars and still wants more. That’s enough to release the tension I’m harboring. He reaches behind my back and pops open my bra with one hand, slipping it up my arms and throws it to the side. I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him to my mouth in a hungry kiss, craving the intoxicating feeling I get when he kisses me. Where I drown in his taste and nothing else matters.

He makes good on his promise and worships my entire body with sweet kisses and soft praises. His touch seeps into my skin, tranquilizing my fractured soul. He’s healing me from the outside, in. By the time he’s done, my body is buzzing with desire and my mind is too fuzzy to worry about anything.      

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, nibbling my ear, my skin pebbles with goosebumps. “Your body is the fuel to my storm. The heat is so intense, I’ve never wanted a woman more than I do right now.”

I swallow his words, and whimper as they spread heat inside me. It’s been months since I’ve been with a man but I never remember it being like this. My nails curve along his broad shoulders, down his muscular back and his whole body shudders, his fingers dig into my hips as he lets out a low hum.

He moves from my lips down my chest and I cry out when he engulfs my breast into his hot, hungry mouth, sucking, while his fingers pinch my other nipple. He’s done with the tender endearments and has proceeded straight to ravenous hunger.      

My body’s buzzing with the desperation to feel each other. The feel of his muscular body underneath my hands makes me feel powerful. This perfect man wants me. My eyes roll back when his tongue circles my swollen clit and I moan at the delicious shiver it causes. He holds on to my thighs as he licks and sucks, my body is on fire as I beg him to stop, and then keep going. Unintelligible words and sounds slip from my mouth as my orgasm pulses through me.

He growls when he comes up, wiping my wetness off with his hand. “You taste like candy.” I laugh, doubting it’s true. He leans down with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“You don’t believe me? Taste,” he murmurs against my lips. I open and his tongue dances with mine in a heated kiss. It consumes our air, the erotic xxx of tasting myself on his tongue robs all my inhibitions. I moan against his lips as I wrap my legs around him, his hard cock rubbing against my wet center.

He pushes up, kneeling between my spread legs as he puts on a condom. It’s sexy as hell watching him grab his heavy cock in his hands. When he slides into me with ease, he grips my thighs. Hard. His nostrils flare as his control slips. He pulls back as he begins moving in and out of me. My groans get caught in my throat whenever he pushes into me full tilt, the feeling devouring my senses.

I grind my hips causing him to growl between thrusts. He picks up the pace, my thighs slapping against his pelvis and the punishing pace pulls us over together. Our bodies tense and convulse as he falls over onto me. He buries his face in my neck, kissing and sucking. I whimper when he pulses inside me, the nerves still sensitive. “Keep making that noise and round two is coming.” He bites my jaw and pushes up on his elbows. I shift underneath him, lifting my hips and biting my lip knowing it drives him crazy.

A lazy grin spreads across his face. “I’d stay inside you forever if I could.” He pulls out and I wince at the emptiness, surprised I already miss the feel of him inside me. Our union was perfect. A small part of me was hoping it wouldn’t be, it would be my way out. But it wasn’t. It was everything.

The bed dips as he lays down next to me on his side. He grabs part of the sheet and drapes it below his navel. The deep V, like a sign pointing to an erotic destination, is displayed perfectly. His whole body is a work of art. Chiseled with perfection. My eyes drag up his torso when he clears his throat. Our eyes meet and his wicked grin tells me he enjoyed my perusal. I glance up to the ceiling and blush. He’s acutely aware of my body language and it’s such a contrast to most guys whose main goal is how fast they can insert body part A into B. Not Kase. He memorized my body like a map, returning to my favorite places before traveling to his favorite place.

“Why are you embarrassed?” He cups my jaw with his hand, pulling me to face him.

My eyes widen. “I’m not. I’m just not used to being with a guy like you. You’re so intense.”

His brows crease. “Is that good or bad?”      

I roll to face him and smile. “Good. It’s refreshing.”

“Like a breath of spring air,” he mocks.

“Not like that. I mean this”— I wave my hand between us— “it was different. It’s hard for me to explain because I’ve never felt like this before.” I moan, laying back, covering my eyes with my arm. “God, I hope I didn’t just sound like a clingy, psycho girl, especially if you’re ready to bail.”

He moves my arm and I loll my head to look at him again. “I’m not ready to bail. I want you to be open about your feelings, to trust me.” How is this man a trained killer? They’re not supposed to have feelings or like talking about them. At least that’s what I’d assume being able to take a life without a blink of an eye. Kase is an enigma—a killer with a conscience. “And I hope someday you'll trust me enough to tell me what happened.” His hand moves to my sheet covered stomach. I swallow back the panic rising. “Not now,” he murmurs as if he’s in my head, hearing everything.

I swat at him, hiding my worry behind a smile. “Stop reading my mind. I thought it was a good thing being with a guy who’s perceptive, but now I’m not so sure.”

He rolls on top of me and says, “I think I need to remind you why it’s so good.” Moving the sheet out from between us, I immediately feel how hard he is.

Yes, I definitely need a reminder.

And a distraction from the conversation I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to have.