didn’t want to be broken anymore.
Her fingers traced his entire back, dipped into the tender areas where he’d almost been burned alive, before she caressed the smooth parts of his back that reminded him of what all his skin had once looked like. What his body had once been.
Then she started to trace down his leg, too, the leg that he was so lucky to still have attached to his body, but that was disfigured from the skin grafts he’d painfully endured in recovery.
“Stop,” he commanded, head rising off the pillow. His back was one thing, but she was taking things too far.
“No,” she whispered, pushing him back down and straddling his buttocks instead. He still had his boxers on, but he could feel the heat of her as she sat on him. “Don’t move a muscle.”
* * *
Jamie put her palms over Brett’s arms as he spread them out on either side of him. At the same time she dipped her head until she could press a soft, warm kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades. Here, the skin was still smooth and tanned, like his back had always been, and she wanted to start here before she moved lower.
“Jamie…” She heard him mumble her name.
She continued undeterred, moving her mouth slowly down his back. When she reached the first of the jagged edged lines that crisscrossed down his entire lower back, she made her kisses even lighter, only just letting her lips touch him, as soft as she could make them. His skin was still pink where he’d been burned, the marks a blazing reminder of what he’d been through, and she needed to show him that she didn’t care, that she could deal with the wounds he’d come home with, the wounds that he’d be forced to live with forever. That she accepted the man he was today as much as she would have accepted the man he’d been before the explosion—that in her eyes he was no different.
Her hair fell forward and splayed across his back as she started to move lower again, making her way down his leg now, shuffling her body farther down the bed. His right leg was impossible to compare to his back—the scars extended all the way down his thigh and calf, enough to make her want to gasp, at least when she’d first seen them. But now she focused on the shape of his leg, the muscles still bulging from his calf, the thickness of his thigh that told her how fit he was, how determined he’d been to stay strong even through what must have been a painful recovery. Brett was a fighter, she knew that, and he’d endured what might have broken others.
“They’re just marks, Brett,” she told him as she wriggled back up his body and sat on his buttocks again, hands spread out over his back as she gently massaged his shoulders.
“They’re marks I’ll have forever,” he muttered.
When he went to move, she pushed herself up on her knees so he could flip onto his back beneath her. Jamie lowered herself when he looked comfortable, staring into his eyes as she leaned forward. She tucked her long hair behind her ears to keep it out of the way.
“You’re still the same, handsome Brett you were to me before I saw them,” she said. “It’s part of you now, and they don’t scare me.”
“You have to say that now,” he told her. “You can’t exactly be honest with me about how much they disgust you.”
Jamie frowned. “Of course I can be honest with you.” She paused, touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers because she needed to connect with him, needed him to know that she was telling the truth. “Do your scars terrify me and remind me of what we’ve both lost? Sure. But they’re just marks, Brett, and they’re your marks, so there’s no point in pretending like they’re not there. Now that I’ve seen them, I’ve seen them. You don’t have to worry about hiding them from me, or how I’ll react.”
“I hate that I have a constant reminder on my skin,” he admitted, reaching up for her and stroking a hand down her hair until he reached the ends of it,
Her fingers traced his entire back, dipped into the tender areas where he’d almost been burned alive, before she caressed the smooth parts of his back that reminded him of what all his skin had once looked like. What his body had once been.
Then she started to trace down his leg, too, the leg that he was so lucky to still have attached to his body, but that was disfigured from the skin grafts he’d painfully endured in recovery.
“Stop,” he commanded, head rising off the pillow. His back was one thing, but she was taking things too far.
“No,” she whispered, pushing him back down and straddling his buttocks instead. He still had his boxers on, but he could feel the heat of her as she sat on him. “Don’t move a muscle.”
* * *
Jamie put her palms over Brett’s arms as he spread them out on either side of him. At the same time she dipped her head until she could press a soft, warm kiss to his back, between his shoulder blades. Here, the skin was still smooth and tanned, like his back had always been, and she wanted to start here before she moved lower.
“Jamie…” She heard him mumble her name.
She continued undeterred, moving her mouth slowly down his back. When she reached the first of the jagged edged lines that crisscrossed down his entire lower back, she made her kisses even lighter, only just letting her lips touch him, as soft as she could make them. His skin was still pink where he’d been burned, the marks a blazing reminder of what he’d been through, and she needed to show him that she didn’t care, that she could deal with the wounds he’d come home with, the wounds that he’d be forced to live with forever. That she accepted the man he was today as much as she would have accepted the man he’d been before the explosion—that in her eyes he was no different.
Her hair fell forward and splayed across his back as she started to move lower again, making her way down his leg now, shuffling her body farther down the bed. His right leg was impossible to compare to his back—the scars extended all the way down his thigh and calf, enough to make her want to gasp, at least when she’d first seen them. But now she focused on the shape of his leg, the muscles still bulging from his calf, the thickness of his thigh that told her how fit he was, how determined he’d been to stay strong even through what must have been a painful recovery. Brett was a fighter, she knew that, and he’d endured what might have broken others.
“They’re just marks, Brett,” she told him as she wriggled back up his body and sat on his buttocks again, hands spread out over his back as she gently massaged his shoulders.
“They’re marks I’ll have forever,” he muttered.
When he went to move, she pushed herself up on her knees so he could flip onto his back beneath her. Jamie lowered herself when he looked comfortable, staring into his eyes as she leaned forward. She tucked her long hair behind her ears to keep it out of the way.
“You’re still the same, handsome Brett you were to me before I saw them,” she said. “It’s part of you now, and they don’t scare me.”
“You have to say that now,” he told her. “You can’t exactly be honest with me about how much they disgust you.”
Jamie frowned. “Of course I can be honest with you.” She paused, touching his cheek with the tips of her fingers because she needed to connect with him, needed him to know that she was telling the truth. “Do your scars terrify me and remind me of what we’ve both lost? Sure. But they’re just marks, Brett, and they’re your marks, so there’s no point in pretending like they’re not there. Now that I’ve seen them, I’ve seen them. You don’t have to worry about hiding them from me, or how I’ll react.”
“I hate that I have a constant reminder on my skin,” he admitted, reaching up for her and stroking a hand down her hair until he reached the ends of it,
Similar Books
