Scarred Beautiful (15 page)

When I come back out, Matt is standing in the same spot and hasn’t dropped the sprayer.

“Whatcha got there, Fran?” he asks, his eyes wandering and landing first on the bucket and then on my nipples, and I lower the towel to cover them.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He pauses for a second to cough and that’s when I make my move, adrenaline coursing through my system as I throw the entire bucket of water on his shirt, but I miss and some ends up on his face and in his hair. I have to say, the wet look definitely suits him. He points at me again, his blue eyes alight with fire, and I take off running. I hear his footsteps following close, but continue down the hall until he catches up and grabs me around my waist, hauling me off the ground.

“Matt!” I laugh, breathing heavy and barely able to speak. “Let me go!”

“Make me.”

I try to free my arms but his grip is too strong. Eventually, he releases me slowly, my back sliding down his front, feeling the planes of his muscles and his apparent erection, making my nipples even more pronounced. I cross my arms over my chest to hide my arousal and glance back at him over my shoulder. “So, what now? We’re kind of wet.”

“I like you wet,” he says, his brows rising under a fringe of hair, a smirk pulling up the corner of his lips. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “Let me get you a t-shirt.”

He walks down the hall, stripping off his shirt on the way, and I nearly melt into a puddle of lust. I can’t stop staring. Those jeans hang low on his hips exposing a slim waist, and the muscles of his back ripple as he moves. The edge of his boxer briefs are visible and my mind starts drifting to what’s underneath them when he emerges from a room at the far end of the hall, still shirtless. Holy crap. Broad shoulders and full pecs lead down to that V shape near his abdomen. My eyes linger on the tiny dusting of hair just below his belly button and desire threatens my ability to continue to stand or even form a coherent thought.

He finally covers his chest with a shirt, thank God, before tossing one to me. I head off to the bathroom to change, immediately locking the door and falling back against it. My heart rate is skyrocketing while my body is on fire. A minute later, when I can finally move without keeling over, I walk to the sink and catch my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are bright, my cheeks a soft shade of pink, my hair a wild mess. I can’t help the smile spreading across my face.

I breathe in the scent of his shirt, clean and masculine mixed with detergent that sends a frisson of excitement coursing through me. With a quick tug, I pull off my tank and slide his shirt over my head before taking a deep breath. I come back out to find Matt reclining against the wall, staring in my direction.

“My shirt looks good on you,” he says, his eyes roving, his voice a deep timbre. He pushes off the wall and strolls back out to the living room.

“Thanks, and thanks for the lend.” My cell phone chirps in the distance and I get to it on the fourth ring to find Peyton on the other end. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey,” she answers, her voice low. She doesn’t sound like herself and it makes me nervous.

“What’s going on? You sound weird.”

“Where are you?” she asks, sniffling and blowing her nose into the phone.

“I’m at Matt’s. Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better. When you come back will you swing by my room?” she asks quietly, and now I’m concerned.

“Absolutely. We’ll head out now, okay?” I glance over at Matt, who sees the look on my face and grabs his keys.

“Thanks, Fran. See you soon,” she says before hanging up, and I hear relief in her voice.

“What’s going on?” Matt questions as soon as I click the phone off.

“I don’t know. Peyton sounds really upset so we should definitely get back.” I follow him down the stairs and out through the basement.

The drive back to the hotel is quiet, but my head is anything but…flipping back and forth between Peyton and my day with Matt. Every now and then I chance a glimpse at him, one strong hand clutching the wheel, the other resting lightly on the gear shift. There’s a part of me that wants to go to him, curl up next to the warmth of his chest and feel him, breathe him in, but I can’t.

It’s about six when we finally arrive back at the hotel and I’m completely exhausted. After I check on Peyton, I’m definitely calling it a night. Matt walks me to the door and for some reason my stomach is a jumble, twisting with nerves.

“Thanks for the adventure today. You’re pretty decent company.” I lean back, bringing a knee up, my foot resting against the door.

“Decent company, huh?” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“So…I think I’ll take the stairs in the morning,” I say with a hint of laughter, “wouldn’t want to get stuck on the elevator again.”

Matt digs a fist in his pocket as he glances down at the carpet. “Oh, I don’t know, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” I reply, smiling, “it wasn’t bad at all.” On my last word, Matt’s eyes climb to mine and he inches closer. I falter at his sudden proximity.

I watch his hand heading toward my face and my breathing picks up as he smoothes a finger over the arch of my brow, the angle of my cheek, and finally my bottom lip, sending my pulse racing and my stomach into an unfamiliar dance. I realize in this moment that I want him to kiss me…but not because I’m trying to forget, simply because I want to remember.

His nose glides down my cheek and his lips follow, a dance across my skin, and my heart skitters in my chest. Warm breath prickles my flesh, little bubbles of happy rising to the surface. “Goodnight, sunshine,” he whispers, his lips brushing my skin, before he backs away all too soon and pins me with a gaze that’s so unnerving, mostly because I can’t figure it out. It isn’t hungry the way other men look at me, it’s like he’s searching. I wish I knew what he was searching for, because suddenly, I want him to find it.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I call softly, touching my cheek, but he’s already gone.

After I manage to get my head out of the clouds, I make a quick stop to change into something more comfy, stride down the hall to Peyton’s room, and knock loudly on the door. She opens it with a face full of runny black mascara, a red nose, and puffy eyes, not a state I’m used to seeing her in.

“What’s going on? You look dreadful,” I say, trying to lighten the grim atmosphere.

“Gee, thanks a lot,” she replies, putting a bunch of tissues to her nose and blowing it. She perches at the edge of the bed, throwing the used tissues into a pile she’s accumulating on the carpet.

I sit down next to her and hook my arm over her shoulder. “That’s really gross, you know.”

“I know,” she says with a snort, “but I don’t care.”

“So what’s going on? I’ve never seen you this upset.
Ever.
”

“Well, first off, my sister called earlier today. She said she was so hurt that I didn’t come to celebrate her promotion. I don’t know, I know I was doing it to spite my mom but I didn’t really think about how it would affect her. I didn’t even think she cared that much. I guess I was wrong and now I feel horrible.”

“Okay, so when you get back, you can make it up to her. Take her out to dinner. I’m sure she’d really appreciate that, you know?” I squeeze her arm, pulling her closer to me. “But, what else is bothering you?”

She escapes my grasp and lands back on the bed with a thud, a fresh batch of tears brewing in her eyes. “It’s Caleb. We…we slept together this afternoon,” she mutters through her sobs, hiding her face with both arms.

“Wow, was it that bad?” I joke, lying down next to her.

“HA!” she laughs, a tear sliding down her neck. “It was beyond amazing. The guy’s got mad skills. The way he touched me, the way he held me, I swear I didn’t want to leave his bed.”

“So why did you?”

“Because.…” She releases a harsh breath. “I panicked. He’s got one of those personalities that kind of grows on you…like a weed.” She giggles slightly. “He’s addictive.”

I yawn, the drain of the day finally getting to me. “So what, Peyton? So be addicted for the next couple of days. You’re thinking with your brain. Stop thinking with your brain and just have fun.”

“Listen to you, Dr. Phil.” She turns on her side to face me. “I didn’t realize you were such an expert on relationships.”

A bitter laugh makes its way up my throat. “I’m anything but an expert. All I’m saying is don’t overthink it. Just enjoy it. Live a little.”

She wipes her eyes with another tissue, lobbing it over the bed and onto the Kleenex mound. “Speaking of fun, how was your day?”

I can’t help the grin that turns up my lips. “It was great. We had a good time. Matt took me for a ride on his motorcycle and then cooked for me. He’s…a nice guy.”

“What kind of a ride?” she says, her voice laced with sexual undertones.

I smack her in the arm and she whines, then rubs it. “No, a fully clothed ride, so get your mind out of the gutter.” I hesitate, before adding, “But there’s something about him that tugs at me just a little bit and I can’t put my finger on it.” I sigh, recalling the almost kiss, my skin still warm from his lips. “He almost kissed me and I find myself wishing he had.”

“Well, sweetie, if you ask me, you need to be kissed, and you need to be fu—”

I put my hand over her mouth, thankfully muffling her next words. “Don’t even say it. I’m removing my hand now and I don’t want to hear one word.”

“Fucked.” She clutches her belly as laughter spills from her mouth.

At least she’s not crying anymore.

I wake up with images filtering through my brain like a movie reel on repeat: Fran on my motorcycle, Fran in her wet tank top, Fran with her arms wrapped around me, Fran and her full lips inches from my mouth. Fuck. My whole body is blanketed in sweat and my dick is hard, tenting the sheet that’s covering my body. I scrub my hands over my face. What the fuck am I doing?

I let out a frustrated moan before dragging my legs over the edge of the bed and managing to get up, surprisingly without my dick weighing me down.
Jesus
. I walk briskly into the bathroom, determined to get rid of the crazy thoughts consuming me. Turning the shower on and stepping in, I brace one hand against the tile wall, trying to get my breathing under control, letting the water drip down my hair, my back, my thighs…but she’s everywhere and I can’t get away from her if I tried. My thoughts jump to her breasts. I envision them, perfectly round and supple as I run my tongue over her nipples, flicking and teasing them until they become tight little buds. My hand goes to my cock, so hard it’s almost painful, and I begin to stroke myself slowly. I can practically smell the jasmine on her skin, see my fingers running down her spine to the soft curve of her ass, and hear her moan. I close my eyes and imagine reaching around to part her lips, sliding a finger inside, finding her soaked, then dropping to my knees because I desperately want a taste of her. The muscles in my jaw go slack and I start to groan with need while my hand moves faster as I visualize my face between her thighs, the sweet scent of her arousal intoxicating me as I suck on her clit and she clutches at my hair, pulling me closer, wanting me deeper. My breathing becomes ragged, my hips jutting forward, and as I picture my tongue licking her swollen pussy, my orgasm rips through me and I growl Fran’s name.

After standing under a hot stream of water for another few minutes and letting my breathing even out, I dry off so I can quickly dress, feeling somewhat better. It’s not the real thing, but it’ll have to do for now. I pull a pair of black pants down from the hanger and decide on a green dress shirt. The color instantly reminds me of Fran’s eyes and I smile, thinking about the glow she had just before I sprayed her. That was fun. But that leads me to thinking about her hardened nipples poking through the sexy little top she had on, and that’s where I have to stop. I can’t walk around with another hard-on all day.

I reluctantly shake off the thought and finish getting dressed, and while strapping my watch around my wrist, I notice it’s 7:45 a.m. I’m just about to give Caleb a ring in his room when I hear his voice through the door. When I open it, I find him leaning against the frame, his jacket over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Hey, man,” he says, still wearing the same smile.

“Hey, come on in, and what’s with the face? Should I take it to mean you had a good day yesterday?”

He lays his jacket on the couch and takes a seat next to it. “You can take it to mean I had a
great
day, that Peyton is like a sex goddess.”

I chuckle at Caleb’s unique way with words. “Sex goddess, huh?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what happened. Things were going really well, yet afterwards, she got all weird and took off. I tried to talk to her, but she said she had to go.”

“Actually, come to think of it, she called Fran saying she was upset, so we came back so Fran could check on her.” I finish putting on my shoes and take out my briefcase to sort through some notes.

“Maybe I was too hot to handle,” Caleb says with a laugh that’s quickly followed by a frown. “I don’t know, we were having a good time. I’ll ask her again when I see her today. So what happened with you?”