Free New Life by Bonnie Dee Page B

only fair.” I kept my tone light, willing
him to trust me and reveal more of himself—and I wasn’t thinking of
the physical scars.
    I held his gaze. “It’s okay, Jason. Now, take
off your shirt.” I tried for a playful dominatrix command, except I
really meant it. Trust me. Do as I say.
    He paused. When he finally reached down to
grab his shirt and pull it over his head, I held my breath, a
little afraid of what I might see. After I’d pushed him into
exposing himself, I didn’t dare show any negative reaction.
    As it turned out, the scars were no more than
a handful of thin ridges wandering like a roadmap across the right
side of his chest and side. They were no worse than the severe red
line on his face or the one visible below his T-shirt sleeve.
    I quickly brought my attention back to his
face. “You look hot to me.” I reassured him. It was the truth,
because his body was tautly muscled in all the right places.
    I slid one hand up his belly to his chest, my
other around his waist, and drew him back to me. More kissing
ensued. Great kissing. Extravagant, luxurious kissing. The kind
that was likely to make me forget my promise to keep my panties on.
Our bodies thrust together as if we were fighting our way out of
the armor of clothing. Before I could completely lose control, I
pulled away again, panting.
    “Is your headache gone?” I asked.
    “What headache?” Jason reached for me again,
but I pushed him gently away.
    I hopped up from the bed, tucked my boobs
back into my top where they belonged, and went to get the glasses
of juice we’d abandoned. A cool drink helped calm my fiery libido a
little.
    I handed the other glass to Jason, then lay
beside him on the narrow bed, head propped on one hand. My palm
rested on his chest. His heartbeats were as steady as the rain
drumming against the windowpane.
    “I’m glad we left the club. This is better,”
I said.
    He set his glass on the nightstand and curved
a hand around my hip. “Yeah, a lot better than puking in a public
john.”
    I traced my fingers along the ridges of
scars. “Do you have a lot of pain?”
    “My leg is usually stiff by the end of a
shift, but I’m pretty good these days.” He moved restlessly,
signaling his discomfort with the subject of his injuries.
    Instead of backing off, I forged ahead and
asked, “Will you tell me about your accident? What happened? I know
it’s none of my business, but it’s such a big event in your life,
we can’t avoid discussing it forever.”
    “How about for the rest of tonight?” He gave
me a seductive look from under his brows.
    I smiled. “Okay.”
    I lay my head on Jason’s chest and tapped a
rhythm to match the raindrops on his stomach. “I love a rainy
night. When I was a kid, I was never afraid of storms. I’d throw my
window open and breathe in the damp breeze, then jump back into bed
and cuddle under the covers. My mom scolded me because the floor
got wet, but it was worth it.”
    “My dog used to be terrified of thunder.”
Jason’s voice rumbled beneath my ear. “He’d hear it long before any
of us and stick right next to me, whimpering.”
    “Crap! I wonder if Baby’s afraid. I didn’t
even think of that.”
    “No thunder tonight, only a little rain. She
should be all right.”
    I hoped so, because I sure didn’t feel like
rushing home. I was drowsy and comfortable, although it was kind of
hard to lie there and not allow my hand to drift down
Jason’s belly toward the fly of his jeans and the bulge
beneath.
    “It was raining like this the night of my
accident,” Jason said abruptly. “Nothing heavy. Not enough to make
the roads slick. No good reason for taking out a guardrail and
rolling down an embankment.”
    I held my breath, waiting for him to go
on.
    Jason’s chest rose and fell beneath my head
as he exhaled. “I’d been to a kegger, but I don’t remember anything
about that night except rain hitting my skin and the wet grass
underneath me... And lights in my