Fighting to Be Free (Fighting to Be Free 1) - Page 37


Wait, is she crying because I got hurt? My heart skipped a beat at the thought, she must like me a little to be upset that I got hurt, right? I really wanted to believe that.

“Jamie, this looks awful! The doctor really said it was ok?” she asked, sitting on the bed next to me, looking at my body with a horrified expression. I glanced down, the bruises had gotten worse since I got dressed this morning and almost my whole upper body was now shades of red and purple.

She groaned as she moved and looked at my back, “Jeez Jamie, your backs even worse,” she said quietly.

I closed my eyes as she kissed across my back gently, it felt so nice, her fingers trailing across the healed scars tenderly. I pulled away from her, disgusted with myself and grabbed my t-shirt, moving to put it back on.

“Oh crap, did I hurt you?” she asked, wincing slightly, looking at me apologetically.

“No, you didn’t hurt me. I just don’t want you to think you have to do that, it‘s not nice for you to do that, it‘s ok,” I said turning my nose up. Her pretty mouth shouldn’t be anywhere near my disgusting body.

She frowned and gripped my top just as I was about to pull it back over my head. “I don’t understand, what’s this about then? Your scars?” she asked, quietly.

I groaned, I didn’t want to have this conversation. “Ellie, look just leave it, ok?” I pleaded.

She shook her head and pulled the t-shirt out of my hands, throwing it on the chair. She put her hand on my shoulder and pushed lightly, I allowed her to push me down onto my back. She moved and straddled me but she was obviously being careful not to touch me in case she hurt me. She leant over me, resting on her forearms either side of my head, our faces inches apart.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, I can see that and that’s fine, but you shouldn’t keep thinking that there’s something wrong with your body, Jamie. Honestly, you are sexy as hell,” she stated, looking right into my eyes.

She couldn’t really think that, no one in their right mind could look at that and find it sexy.

“Ellie, I know I‘m not,” I started, but she put her hand over my mouth, stopping me from talking.

“You’re not listening to me, Jamie. These scars….” She sat up and trailed her fingers over my chest gently. “….these scars make you who you are. I don’t know what happened to you, or how you got these, but you’re still here. You survived all of that, and it’s made you the person who you are today, it didn’t beat you, it probably made you stronger. These don’t make you any less attractive. Believe me Stud, every single inch of your body makes my mouth water,” she said, blushing slightly.

I looked in her eyes and I could see she wasn’t lying, she really wasn’t bothered by my scars at all. I felt my heart sped up, this girl really was incredible. I cupped her face in my hands and pulled her down to kiss me. She pulled away and kissed down my neck, I closed my eyes and she kissed all over my chest and stomach lightly, trailing her tongue across my scars. My whole body felt like it was on fire, and I had honestly never been this happy in my whole pathetic life.

Ten minutes later she was done and I was so freaking hard it was unbelievable. Not that I would have been able to do anything about it, I could barely move. She pulled away and laid next to me on the bed, “Better?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, hell yeah it was better, that was such a freaking turn on. “Yeah, thanks.” I brushed her hair from her face lightly, damn she is so beautiful and just adorable too, I can’t believe she brought me medicine and food because she thought I was sick, I’d only known her for three days. “So, did you change the ring tone that Stacey put on your cell?” I asked curiously.

She giggled and blushed, shaking her head. “Not yet, but I will.”

“Let’s hear it,” I said, laughing as I grabbed my cell phone off of the side. I dialled her number quickly, she gasped and tried to snatch it from my hand. I laughed and kissed her, waiting for it to start.

“I….I….I….I can make your bedrock” started blasting from her bag.

I burst out laughing as she pulled the pillow from under her head and put it over her face, giggling. I pulled the pillow off, grinning, letting the phone continue to ring, “I can make your bedrock?” I asked, smirking at her.

“The chorus is worse,” she whined, turning an adorable shade of red. I bent my head and kissed her, tangling my fingers in her hair as the song continued in the background, something about my room being a g-spot and call me Mr. Flintstone. This Stacey girl really was funny.

After making out for about half an hour, she sighed, “I should go, my parents will be wondering where I am,” she said frowning. I didn’t want her to go, maybe she didn’t want to go either, I hoped that was what she was frowning about.

“So, do you think I could take you out Friday night?” I asked hopefully.

“I can’t, Friday’s game night.” She cringed slightly as she said it.

“Game night? What kind of game?” I asked, intrigued at what sport she would play.

“Football.” She shrugged. She played football? Wow, I didn’t see that coming.

“You play football? Really?” I asked, looking to see if she was lying.

She burst out laughing and shook her head. “I don’t play, I’m on the sidelines, Stud.” She smiled and rolled on top of me, but barely touching me.

Tags: Kirsty Moseley Fighting to Be Free Romance
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