Sliding off the edge of the bed, he started to pull my pants down, giving me a second to lift up so he could slide them over my hips, then pulling them off my ankles to toss carelessly to the side.
I was suddenly thankful I’d grabbed just about every pair of fancy panties I owned when the detective had been watching me pull things out of my closet.
Because what I had on was a pair of maroon lace panties that missed the strapless bra discarded on the floor with the rest of my clothes. There was even a cute little white flower on the center of the waistband.
I’d never been so excited for someone to see my panties before. Maybe that seemed silly, but it was big for me. To feel comfortable with someone. To be pleased by their attention.
Brio’s finger traced over the waistband before sliding his hands down my thighs before snagging my ankles, lifting them up, and pressing my feet into his chest then leaning forward, making my ass lift off of the mattress so he could slide my panties down.
And just like that, I was completely naked, and he was still fully clothed.
Realizing that, I let my legs spread to his sides to rest on the floor so I could roll up.
Head tipped back to keep eye contact, my hands slid up to the hem of his shirt, and started to pull it up as I stood.
It wasn’t until I had the shirt right under his chest that his hands moved out, closing over mine, stopping the motion.
“No?” I asked, brows furrowing.
His gaze was dark, unreadable, and a muscle had started to tick in his jaw.
“It’s okay if it’s no,” I said, thinking of how many times I would have liked an out like that in the past, but was never offered it.
To that, he took a breath so deep it looked painful, then released my hands as he exhaled, lifting his arms up over his head in silent invitation.
Not wanting him to feel any stranger about the interaction, I pulled up the shirt, then tossed it to the side.
A little whimpering sound escaped me as my gaze landed on his body.
He was more cut than I’d been expecting with his wiry build. But there was a lot of strength under his t-shirts and hoodies.
And on top of those indents of muscle were more black and gray tattoos.
He liked dark imagery.
Skulls and snakes and weird, shadowy figures as well as a grim reaper and a section across his right pec was two and a half rows of tally marks.
Two of the tallies look darker, the skin around them inflamed.
Like they were new.
It didn’t take much imagination to realize what they stood for.
Bodies.
Without realizing my intention, my hand rose, my fingertip tracing the last of the tallies.
The one that took my abuser off the face of the Earth.
The one that made that very moment with Brio possible.
Taking a slow, deep breath, I said the words I’d been thinking since it happened.
“Thank you,” I said, letting my hand slide up, resting on the side of his neck as I leaned up to seal my lips to his.
It was meant to be a sweet, soft kiss, but there was no stopping the desire as our lips met.
My curious hands slipped between us, tracing over his chest, then his stomach, feeling his muscles tense under my inspection.
It wasn’t until my hands slipped around to his back that I understood his hesitance to having his shirt taken off.
Because his back was crisscrossed with raised scars.
There was a dropping sensation in my stomach as I realized those scars wouldn’t have had anything to do with his profession like the ones on his hands might have.
No.
Those were the kinds of scars you got from relentless beatings over a long span of time.
Which meant he had once been at the mercy of a man with a short fuse and a violent heart.
Like me.
I felt a little crack forming in my heart for the helpless kid he must have once been, one who worked like hell to get bigger and stronger, to make sure no one could ever hurt him like that again.
I wasn’t even sure of my intention until I was moving, shifting to step behind him, feeling his body stiffening.
He didn’t have any tattoos on his back, despite it being a big canvas, despite the fact that the scars could have been much more camouflaged with them.
It was like some part of him wanted them there as a reminder.
Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to the highest one stretched across his shoulder blade, thick near the bone, then tapering off.
Brio’s body jolted at the sensation.
My lips moved on to the next one. Then the one after that. Then another until there were no others at my height that I could kiss.