Skin (12 page)

She hadn’t had the benefit of any male in her life since she was raped. Somehow, that made it all so much worse. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “It’s been a long time.” Her gaze slid to the side. “You think it’s all good and you’ve dealt with it, but then something triggers the emotions and you realize it’s not something you ever get over, or ever forget. It’s not a sickness you can get rid of, but it is something you can deal with on a day-to-day basis. Like managing an incurable disease, it hurts at the oddest moments.”

“Like?”

She smiled sadly, “Like when I see a family with babies or loving couples and I understand it’s not for me. It’s for people who have normal, natural lives. Not for those of us who are broken.”

“You’re in pieces, but you can pull the pieces together.”

“But I’ll never be whole.”

“You can be better than you were,” he said seriously. “You can be the new you.”

S
he couldn’t believe
they were having this conversation or that she’d had the guts to open up. Everyone – her friends, therapists, and family – had all said it would happen at one time, but why with Kane?

Except that if there was a chance in the immediate future for her to be intimate with a man, it would be with Kane. At least he now understood. She wasn’t sure she did. What could he possibly want from her?

Except clearer signals, apparently.

He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at her, perplexed. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, too, but he’d likely freak out.

“What?” He narrowed his gaze at her.

She dropped hers to the floor.

“Speak up. You have to be clear. I can’t be helpful if you don’t explain.”

She laughed. “Ha. If you understood what I was thinking, you’d be running like a crazy man.”

He tilted his head to one side. “Maybe not. Try me.”

“No, it’s stupid.” She spun on her heels and walked so she could look out the window.

“Nothing is ever stupid. If you don’t speak up, you will have missed an opportunity.”

She glanced over at him. “It’s just that I don’t know what your hair feels like.” She turned away from him again. “See, I told you. It’s stupid.”

“You never touch me. You walk around me like I’m someone to avoid, as if my touch is repellent.”

“No.” She spun away from the window. “Not because of that, because…I don’t know…I haven’t touched a man, like I said. It’s foreign and it’s instinctive to
avoid
touching.”

“But you want to touch?”

Tears filled her eyes, burning the back of her throat. They’d come on so hard and so fast, she hadn’t been prepared.

“Oh no. No tears. That’s not fair,” he protested.

She tried to smile, but the waterworks kept getting in the way. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Okay, so try this: just nod. Do you want to touch me?” He stood so big and so strong and so very capable of knocking her unconscious with a single blow, yet all she could think about was how much she wanted to touch him.

She nodded.

“See,” he said in a very gentle voice. “That wasn’t so hard.”

“Was too,” she muttered, but she smiled at him.

He walked over to a chair, flipped it around, and sat on it backwards, facing her. Sitting down, he was almost the same height she was. Then he dropped his head onto his arms resting on the back of the chair and said, “Go ahead.”

“Why are you doing this?’ she whispered. It was stupid. It was just a touch. But for her, it was a gift. A freedom she’d never had. And for him, this was what? An experiment? Wanting to help? Why was he here anyway? She hadn’t seen or heard him do anything that explained why he’d needed to come to a workshop like this. Or was he not an attendee? Had he come at Jenna’s request? No, not likely. He’d been at several of the evening lectures, so there was something going on in his psyche. The thing was, as much as she cared about that aspect, she didn’t care right now because she wanted what he offered.

Accepting it was a whole different thing.

“Because I can. Now, step closer and put your hand on me.” He laughed lightly. “I promise I’ve had a shower.”

She winced. A shower obviously hadn’t been an issue for her before.

“Here, I’ll make it easy on you.” And he held out his hand.

She stared at it. It was just a hand. She’d shaken a man’s hand before, hadn’t she? A doctor or a lawyer, a cop’s hand? She couldn’t remember, but she must have.

She reached out and placed her hand in his. His fingers gently closed around hers, caging hers in. It didn’t scare her. She tugged her fingers back experimentally, and he let her go. She took a deep breath. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

He chuckled. “Glad to hear it. Next?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“My hair, you said?”

He tilted his head, and like a moth to a flame, she couldn’t resist the lure. She reached out to touch the silky, black waves. Short but with a hint of curl around his ears, his hair felt…normal. She laughed. “I don’t know why I thought it would be anything else, but it feels normal.”

He peered up at her from his odd position. “I would hope so.”

She slipped her fingers through the waves, letting the curls wrap around her fingers. “It feels like a woman’s hair.”

“We do share similarities between the two sexes,” he mocked.

She smiled and continued to stroke her fingers through his hair. He shifted suddenly and she bolted backwards.

“Whoa, easy now. I was only changing my position a bit.”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “You startled me.”

“Yeah, I got that. But I’m not here to attack you. Remember that.”

“Easy to remember on a mental level, but years of fear on a visceral level make it harder to control these reactions.”

“That makes sense.” He studied her for a moment. “If you want to continue this experiment…” and he waited for a response from her. She held her hand to her chest and gave a sharp nod. “…then I have a suggestion.”

She stared at him and waited. “We’ll go to my room so you can leave any time you want to, instead of worrying about how to get rid of me here, and I will lie down and you can touch me as you want to.”

Her face flushed hot.

He cocked his head, a knowing look because of what had to be a chartreuse color on her face. “I wasn’t really thinking you were ready for that kind of touching.”

She shook her head frantically, but inside, her heart, mind, and hormones were screaming, “Yes!”

He stood up. “Come on. We don’t have tons of time here, so let’s do this.”

Before she’d had time to process it, they were standing inside his room. He walked to the bed, pulled off his shirt, and dropped backwards on his bed. “Go for it.”

*

This was going
to kill him. What had possessed him to put himself through this torture? Tinkerbelle was so damn attractive, but she was a bambina in the world of sex. She wanted to experience all the good stuff but had only been dished piles of shit so far in life. He’d love to be able to help her do this, but at the same time, he could hear his brother’s voice in the background. “Dude, what has she got to do with your healing? You have a purpose there this week, and it doesn’t include Tinkerbelle.”

Except maybe it did.

As he lay there calmly, relaxed, waiting for her to get up the nerve to touch him, he realized he didn’t know what the answer was for himself, but he wasn’t stuffed full of rage at the moment. So that was an improvement.

Then he felt it.

Tinkerbelle’s gossamer wing – okay, so not likely, but it was as gentle as that. He felt his stomach muscles bunching under her gentle fingertips. She slid them across his ribs gently, following the grooves and bumps of his torso that she could reach from her side of the bed. He’d have suggested she straddle him, but that would have sent her screaming. Too bad. The thought of her riding him was just about perfect. She’d have to be on top. As scared as she was, it would be the only way, at least the first time.

Once his mind started down that path, there was no stopping it. If he didn’t watch it, she’d end up with an eyeful and this whole experiment would take a horrible turn. He worked hard at tensing his thigh muscle to keep his erection from getting any bigger. Realizing she’d stilled made him peek under his closed lid. She was watching his thigh. She had no idea what he was doing or why, but in true form, she was fascinated by his muscles. He groaned lightly. “I’m not sure how this experiment is going, but maybe you could say something. I feel very exposed here.”

“Sorry,” she said almost absentmindedly. “Is that why you are tightening and clenching your thigh?”

He debated answering her. How much trust could she take?

Then he decided that in a safe environment as she was in, maybe she needed to hear the truth.

“No,” he said, and winced. “I’m trying to not let my sexual urges bring on a full erection. I doubt you’re ready to see that. Or touch that…” he added humorously.

Silence, except for her heavy breathing. He opened his gaze to see her eyes locked on his face, as if scared to look anywhere else. Her breathing was shallow, not quite hyperventilating but close.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. I am not about to lose control.”

She swallowed again.

And the devil made him add, “But you could if you felt like it.”

He didn’t think her eyes could get any bigger, wider, and rounder, but damn it, they did. Immediately, he was sorry. “I’m just kidding. I’m feeling a little odd lying here like this, so my attempt at humor was just to ease my discomfort level.”

She stepped back. “I’m sorry,” she said instantly.

He didn’t move, afraid she’d run. “Why?”

“You’re uncomfortable.” This time, she raised her puzzled gaze up at him. “I imagine it’s demeaning. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not demeaning. You didn’t ask. I offered. Big difference. Sorry my humor was off the mark. I’m fine. I’m just lying here. You’ve hardly touched me.”

She took a step back, and he recognized the mood had been broken. “Okay, I’m going to sit up.” She watched as he swung his legs around and sat on the edge of the bed. “Now, come closer. I want you to sit on my lap.”

Her gaze shot up to meet his. “Yes, that’s a normal request. You’ll see lots of girls sitting on their guy’s laps in a park, at a party, at any place and any time.” He smiled engagingly. “It’s a good experience.” He opened his arms wide. “Just sit down.”

She looked like she wanted to, but the fear and the uncertainty was keeping her at bay.

He opened his arms. “Come on, Tinkerbelle. Just sit down.”

She winced. “I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” he said, delighted when a laugh was forced from her. She took a step and plunked her tiny butt on his left thigh. “Wow, don’t you have any cushion on you?”

“Not much.”

She bounced ever so slightly and then shook her head. “Damn rock. So not comfortable.”

“Maybe, but look instead at what you’ve done,” he pointed out quietly.

His breath was almost lifting her hair, she was so close. She turned to speak and realized they were almost eye level and her mouth was almost touching his. And she froze.

Then she did something that almost broke his heart.

She said in a small voice, barely above a whisper, “Can I touch you again? There’s something I want to do.”

His eyebrows shot up. He was curious but trying to stay calm enough to give her the courage she needed, so he nodded. “Absolutely.”

Her eyes locked on his for a moment as if to make sure he was serious, then damn if she didn’t lean in and place her lips against his in a Tinkerbelle of a kiss.

He was stunned. That this foray into touching could lead to something more intimate had obviously crossed his mind, but he hadn’t expected it to. He hurt knowing what Tinkerbelle had been through, but like she said, it had been a long time ago. Maybe not so painful as it would have been if the attack had been recent, but still ready to ruin her life in so many ways. An insidious poison that attacked at odd times.

He had seen her come so far in such a short time, and he appreciated that a lot of what had been missing in her life was an opportunity to move forward. Somehow, he’d become that opportunity.