Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,70
me. Breaths grew ragged in his chest and a hot pulse in his trousers grew hard and eager. Game fucking on.
Leia spun around, catching his gape and the straining erection in his pants. A saucy grin owned her lips as she pulled herself up onto the table’s edge, her long legs dangling, spreading, welcoming him in. “You need a reminder…” She grabbed his loose tie and reeled him in between her open thighs.
“You need fewer clothes.” Tarquin’s warm breath feathered her neck, his hands finding their way underneath her hoodie, teasing the button on her jeans. She stretched back on the snooker table, just shy of the carefully arranged billiard balls, and raised her hips, allowing Tarquin to whisk the old Levi’s over her thighs and down her legs, the denim falling to the floor in a heap.
Sitting up, she widened her legs again and fussed with his belt buckle. “I have condoms in my bag—berry-flavored.” She slid his zipper down, her nails grazing his boxer briefs and his rock-hard heat, her mere touch triggering an explosion of achy throbs in Tarquin’s pants.
I want her so much. “Good. I like a woman who plans ahead.” Tarquin tugged off his trousers and socks then lunged forward, pulling her toward him, their bodies meeting in a clash of lips and teeth and frantic hands. He coaxed the cozy layers of her hoodie and t-shirt up…up, over her bra, and broke their kiss, a smile on his lips as Leia helped the clothes sail over her head. My love bite! It’s faded but still there. “Just look at you!” He gasped. “Perfect in so many ways.”
On first try, Tarquin unhooked the intricate lace and satin hugging her breasts while Leia’s feverish hands freed the remaining buttons on his shirt, dragging it down his arms. He tore at the cuffs, yanking the designer shirt from his wrists and tossing it on the couch behind them. He pressed closer, delirious for her mouth.
That’s when he saw it, woven into her skin.
The faded line originated just below her navel and veered around her belly button, where it crept up the center of her abdomen, halting an inch or two beneath her breasts.
Oh, Christ… what the hell? A hard swallow bobbed his throat, the cocky cheekiness of his gaze gone. He pulled Leia in, pressing soft kisses against her forehead, the urge to hold her, to protect her greater than his unbridled lust. She looks stitched back together. First the leg scar, now this? I assumed that one was a skating injury, but maybe not?
Leia stiffened slightly and looped her arms around his neck, her fingers lacing through his hair. She held on like she was offering him comfort, not the other way around.
Tarquin blinked, all sorts of fears and accusations whirling through his mind. Did someone hurt her? Her ex, maybe? He pulled back with a tight smile and tenderly swept the hair from her face, the throbbing ache in his boxer briefs fading. Sex was no longer top of mind. Obviously, she survived something major—something life-changing. But how do I ask… without sounding like a nosey prat? Or making her feel self-conscious? He ran his thumb down her cheek, hoping the right words would come. “Leia, I…” I really hope she doesn’t mind. “Is it okay to ask…what happened?”
A flicker of a grin played with her mouth. “Of course! Ask away. I wish more people did. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been at the beach and all eyes seem to be on my stomach. Not that it’s ever stopped me from wearing a cute bikini.” She fluttered her eyelashes, showing no signs of apprehension or embarrassment. “My spleen ruptured years ago. I needed emergency surgery to remove it.”
Ah, thank fuck it wasn’t her ex who hurt her. The tension pinching Tarquin’s brow eased. But still… the pain she must’ve been in. He softly caressed her jaw. “God, that’s awful.”
“I now have an increased risk of catching infections without it, so”—she lifted her arm, showing off a tiny charm dangling from the delicate rose gold bracelet on her left wrist—“I have to wear this in case of an emergency. It’s not the sexiest of inscriptions—NO SPLEEN.” She chuckled.
“But you’re okay now?”
A smile bloomed across her cheeks. “Yeah.” She looked down and grazed a finger along the faded white seam. “In a weird way, I’ve grown to like my scars. They make me feel badass, like I can survive anything. They’re a reminder of