The Gritty Truth (The Whiskeys Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor #7) - Melissa Foster Page 0,67

fell over his face, and he had the slightest curve to his lips. He’d been wrapped around her all night, making her feel safe. She’d been a little nervous about staying overnight, but she hadn’t wanted their night to end, either. He’d made her feel comfortable, and she was glad she’d stayed. The sweatpants and shirt he’d lent her were ridiculously big, but she liked wearing his things and being in his home. It had been wonderful lying on the couch together, kissing, talking, and sort of watching The 40-Year-Old Virgin. They’d laughed a lot, and it felt good not to be holding back any longer. Attending that meeting had changed things for her, confirming that she’d made the right decision. She could tell it had changed things for him, too. His touch felt more intimate, and even the way he looked at her seemed deeper and more open.

When they finally went to bed, she’d wondered if he would try to have sex with her, and she hadn’t been sure that she didn’t want to. But he hadn’t even tried. As important as it was to know she could trust him, she’d been buzzing with desire since the moment he’d walked out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants riding low on his hips, his hot body and sexy tattoos on display. She wanted to know more about those tattoos. What did the sunflowers on his chest symbolize? Why did he have roses on his shoulders and hands? She wanted to know the symbolism behind each and every tattoo covering his arms, too. When she’d asked him, he’d said that most were drawings Truman had made for him when he was young, but then he’d wrapped his big, loving self around her, and thinking had gone out the window.

His body heat had seared through her clothing all night long, and she’d been acutely aware of his arousal pressed temptingly against her. She didn’t want clothes between them anymore. She wanted to feel his heated flesh against hers, to experience the emotions that seeped off him every time he looked at her, and to allow her own desires to be set free.

“Morning, beautiful,” Quincy said groggily, snuggling in.

His rough hand slipped beneath her shirt, skimmed up her belly, and came to rest over her heart, setting off fireworks inside her. She wanted him, and she didn’t want to be self-conscious about her scars, but she was. Quincy hadn’t noticed them the other night, but it had been dark and they’d both been caught up in the heat of the moment. There was no place to hide in the light of day, and that made her anxious. But he’d bared his soul, revealed all of the uglier parts of his past, and she didn’t want to hide those parts of herself from him anymore, either.

He kissed her cheek and went up on his elbow, captivating her with the desire in his eyes, and said, “Your heart is beating fast. You okay?”

“Just a little nervous.” She mustered all of her courage and said, “I want to feel your skin against mine.” Before she could chicken out, she pulled off her shirt.

Hunger flared in his eyes, and he lowered his gaze to her chest. She didn’t look away, needing to see his reaction as he took in the disjointed, decrepit-looking sunburst of scars above her left breast, leaking down her side to her ribs. Appreciation, empathy, and lustful flames rose in his eyes as he drank her in. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t even blink, and something warm and heartfelt joined forces with the underlying current of electricity between them.

“Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous.”

Relief exhaled with a sigh, the honesty in his voice making her want him even more. She didn’t look away as he traced the thin white scars and puckered skin over her breast with his index finger, touching every line, every indentation, the emotions in his eyes deepening. He followed the gnarly trail down her side, along the smooth, unmarred skin between her ribs and her waist. When he brushed his fingers over the indentation where a piece of metal had pierced her skin, she closed her eyes and he pressed a kiss there.

“Open your eyes, beautiful.”

She did, and the way he was looking at her made her feel beautiful, special, and wanted. He didn’t say a word as he kissed the trail of scars from her ribs up and over her breast, kissing every inch, until