Sarah stood up in front of him and stepped back. Dante watched in fascination as she crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her makeshift nightgown, and lifted his T-shirt off of her body hastily, as though she might change her mind if she didn’t. She wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing underneath the garment. She stood before him completely nude, and his cock was suddenly jerking in appreciation.
“This is the body you’ll see,” Sarah told him tremulously. “It’s nothing but scars. The knife wasn’t big, but the scars are numerous and not very pretty. I lived through the attack, but I see the reminders in the mirror every day.”
Dante stood there gaping at her as his eyes ran up and down her body. Sure, she had scars, but that was to be expected after what had happened to her. Otherwise, she was absolutely perfect, from her beautifully formed breasts with pink, generous nipples to her long legs that seemed to stretch forever. He tried not to think about those slender legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her until they were both spent, and failed miserably. The blonde thatch of hair between her thighs was as light as the hair on her head, and Dante wanted to bury his face between her legs and feast on her. Touching her had been mind-blowing, but tasting her would be fucking perfect.
Mine.
The word radiated through his body until he could barely keep himself from taking what he already knew belonged to him.
“Put the T-shirt back on.” His voice was coarse and graveled, his need to sweep her off to his bed nearly overpowering. But she’d been through too much today. Right now she needed a different kind of comfort, and he wanted to give her whatever she needed. “Go get some sleep.”
Holy shit. I need her to cover that beautiful body now, before I do something I might regret. Not that I’ll ever forget exactly what it looks like. It will be branded in my mind forever.
Fuck! He wanted her so badly he could hardly take a breath, but he didn’t want Sarah like this. He wanted her hot and begging, giving herself to him because she was burning with need. This wasn’t that kind of night, and he didn’t want any regrets later. Painfully, he shoved his carnal instincts down, but he had a hell of a time doing it with her standing naked in his den. Sex isn’t what she needs. Down, boy! What Sarah needed right now was a friend, and he’d be whatever she wanted him to be, even if it was nearly killing him.
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you about my body,” she mumbled as she pulled the T-shirt back over her head.
Dante watched in confusion as she turned on her heel and hurried out of the room. He heard the padded sound of her footsteps on the carpet as she raced up the stairs before he really understood exactly what was happening.
She thinks I didn’t want to look at her body because of her scars?
“Holy fuck!” Dante whispered fiercely, running a frustrated hand through his short hair. How could she not feel the sexual tension between them? Hell, his need was palpable, and thick enough that it was nearly choking him to death.
I see the reminders in the mirror every day.
Thinking back on their little discussion on sexual chemistry, Dante wondered if Sarah really bought into all that crap about the propagation of the species and being attracted to the ideal mate—one who, obviously, she was under the impression was minus any scars or imperfections. In his eyes, all of those hardly noticeable marks were part of her, symbols of the hell she’d been through and survived. For him, the whole package of Sarah was his ideal.
He shut down his computer and grabbed the pistol from the edge of the desk, checking the locks and setting the alarm system before he headed up to his bedroom. Once there, he set the Glock on the nightstand and shucked off his clothing, leaving it in a heap on the floor.
I was wrong. Sarah doesn’t need just a friend, although I want to be the one she comes to whenever she needs someone to listen to her. She needs a lover, too, a man who will worship and pleasure her body, and it’s going to be me. She needs to understand that physical desire goes a hell of a lot deeper than science.
He had to admit that what was happening between him and Sarah was somewhat out of his knowledge base. Truthfully, he’d never needed a woman as badly as he did Sarah. But he was willing to wing it, to listen to his instincts.
Dante stalked out to the hallway and nudged her bedroom door open with his foot, letting the hallway light flood over her bed. She was there, huddled in the very middle, curled almost into a fetal position. Not certain she’d grab on to him, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, feeling the pain in his ribs as he grasped her ass to keep her steady, but he ignored it.
“Dante,” Sarah squealed anxiously. “What are you doing? Put me down. You’re going to hurt yourself, dammit.”