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Broken Beast

Page 18

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"How long have you been practicing your photography?"

"Three years."

"That's a lot of naked photos."

"Only naked for the last two. And not always. Sometimes draped in a sheet." Or lingerie. Like the one I took today. I swallow hard. Meet his gaze. "Would you do it?"

"Pose naked?"

I nod.

"I wouldn't pose clothed."

"It's easier being naked. No one judging your cheap dress or your mismatched lingerie."

"No pretenses."

"Exactly. Nowhere to hide. No way to pretend. It's terrifying. And freeing too."

His eyes fix on me. "Do you talk to everyone like this?"

"Are you going to tell me I'm irresistible again?"

He nods. "You are."

My cheeks flush. "Thank you."

"Will you show me your photos?"

Has he really not seen them? "Tomorrow. It's late."

"I won't keep you long." He offers his hand. "But we need to practice."

Right. We're convincing the world we're in love. We need to look the part.

"Are you ready?"

Chapter Ten

Adam

"Are you going to ask next time?" Danielle's eyes fix on me.

"No." The words barely leave my lips. I'm not like her high school boyfriend. I'm not a fumbling teenager.

I know how to read women. I know how to watch their cheeks flush and their lips purse.

Or I did.

I've never slept around. Not the way my little brother does. Certainly not the way Bash did.

I was more like Simon, with his long-term arrangements.

A part of me wanted love, intimacy, connection.

Most of me preferred work.

A relationship wouldn't be fair. I didn't have enough of myself to give. Friends with benefits worked fine before the accident.

When I was first recovering, my brothers checked in every other day. When I was ready for visitors, they brought friends.

Attractive women.

I never knew how they'd react.

Disgust, fear, fascination.

The scars were harsher then. Red and angry, like my soul was trying to express something on my body.

Some of the women tried to touch me.

Some offered to fuck me.

A few times, Liam sent in professionals. His idea of help.

None of the women appealed. Even the beautiful, sweet women who said all the right things.

I didn't want to feel pleasure.

Certainly not the pleasure of sex and all the intimacy and vulnerability that came with it.

I didn't even fuck myself.

Until Danielle.

For days, I stared at her photos.

The jut of her hip or the arch of her back.

Her lips parting with a groan.

Her fingers tugging at her long, wavy hair.

For days, this foreign sensation built inside me.

Desire.

It built and built, until it was agony as much as it was ecstasy.

Finally, I gave in.

I fucked myself the way I did as a teenager, like I'd just discovered the secret to the greatest pleasure in the universe.

For ten minutes a day, I felt only bliss.

Then guilt consumed me.

Stop overthinking it, Adam. There's a babe six inches away, and she wants to fuck you.

It's rude to keep a lady waiting, you know.

If you want to punish yourself, fine, but don't punish her.

If you must punish her, do it the fun way.

At least make the woman come.

And save all the details for me.

Her fingers brush my chin.

My thoughts scatter.

The rest of the universe disappears.

"I’m ready to practice." She runs her fingers over my jawline. "Are you?"

No. But I can't wait until I'm ready. I'll never be there. "If I lead."

"You kiss me, not the other way around?"

"Yes."

"In front of your brothers?"

"When we're alone."

She traces the line of my jaw. "Is this too much?"

Yes. "No."

She brings her free hand to my waist. Slips it under my suit-jacket.

Her fingers dig into the soft cotton of my shirt.

All of a sudden, I'm a fumbling teenager. The dorky kid with glasses, who's never kissed a girl.

"You're nervous." Her voice is tender. Gentle. "I am too." Her hand curls around my neck. "I haven't kissed anyone in a long time."

"Your photographer?"

"We broke up last summer." Her eyes fix on mine. "And he wasn't a very good kisser. You have a low bar to clear. Besides, this is practice."

I bring my hand to the small of her back.

She shudders from the touch. "If it's not perfect the first time, that only means we need more practice."

The possibility terrifies and thrills me in equal measure.

I want to kiss her.

I want to run far away from the hint of intimacy.

She rises to her tiptoes.

For a moment, she stares into my eyes, then she leans closer.

My eyelids flutter together.

Her lips brush mine.

It's soft. A hint of a kiss.

The taste of wine and lemon and Danielle.

Need overwhelms me.

I have to pull back, open my eyes, break our touch.

She looks up at me, still nervous, but no longer scared.

She steps backward. Picks up the bottle of wine. "I could go for another glass." She fills hers. Then mine.

My fingers brush hers as I take it.

She raises her glass to toast. "To good kisses."

"To good kisses."

The clink echoes around the room. She brings the glass to her lips. Drinks with greedy sips.

I finish in two gulps. It's wrong to drink good wine this fast, but I need something to lessen the voice in my head. The one whispering what the fuck are you doing?



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