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he d been in one of his fits when he d
grabbed her, and the morning s
awkwardness had shocked them both
into unusual behavior. Since then he d
been covered up and hands off unless
necessity or surprise dictated otherwise.
He d stiffened like a cat when she
clapped him on the shoulder at lunch.
And the joy on his face when she d
grabbed his arm in front of Dr. E, well,
that had been angelic.
The realization hit her. He never got
touched. Not anymore.
She could see the vicious cycle. He
feared people s reaction, and when he
finally trusted someone enough to reach
out, they reacted, because it was a
natural thing to do when confronting
something unusual...which confirmed his
fear that he shouldn t let anyone touch
him. Well, she d taken a good look at
him while he was asleep to get over her
first reaction without worrying over his
feelings. Invasion of privacy that it might
be, maybe she should get a feel for him
as well, in case she was ever one of
those people he trusted enough to reach
out to.
Besides, she was hella curious.
Fortified that she was doing more
good than harm, she scooted next to him.
After a brief thought for the glorious
musculature beside her (marred by more
scarring, but still, g damn) she crossed
her arms and stared down at him. He
grumbled, and she frowned, worried he
might be muttering instructions to get
away from him.
His hand meandered across her thighs
to rest on her knee, and he pressed her
leg tighter against him.
Okay, unless his mouth and hands
were at odds with each other, those
were definitely not instructions to leave
him alone. Taking his movements as an
invitation, she picked the linear scar on
his cheek to start with. She placed her
fingers on the skin right next to his lips,
lightly touching, then smoothed up the
unnatural crease.
He mumbled again. The muscles in
his jaw unclenched and his whole face
relaxed in an easy sigh as he squeezed
her knee. He was definitely okay with
this. She smiled and let her fingers
wander, feeling each inch of his visible
skin from the top of his head to the base
of his neck, adjusting her fingers to
differences that didn t matter anymore as
he sighed and muttered and tucked her
closer to h cr ce base im. With a
relieved laugh, she reached back and ran
her hand down his forearm to the hands
that weren t so bad. His fingers
intertwined with hers, and she pulled his
hand up to place against her heart.
 These hands, on the other side of a
sheet, were pretty damn amazing. I m
sorry I couldn t see that before. But I can
picture it now.
The incoherent words coalesced into
two distinct syllables:  Want you.
She huffed against his hand, startled.
 What? No, we re friends now. That
was just a... Wait, you re asleep and
don t know what you re saying. Why am
I answering you?
But she couldn t help a curious
glance down. The evidence of his
arousal bulged against the front of his
leather pants, and a question she hadn t
admitted to having was answered in the
most physical way possible. Whatever
damage he d sustained didn t affect his
ability to make love.
 Want you, he said again, more
insistent.
She leaned forward.  Do you even
know who you re talking to? Or any
hands in a dry spell? Not that she d
blame him for the latter, but still. Used
for sex was used for sex, no matter how
understandable a man s motives were.
Besides, now that they knew each other,
it wasn t some game behind a sheet. It
was personal. And she had a kinda-
boyfriend. And
 Aunt Jolie! The door slammed
open and Whitney stood in the
doorframe, blinking as her mouth gaped.
 Aunt Jolie! What are you doing?
Fabulous. Jolie shrugged and
decided to go for honesty.  I d never
touched his face. I wanted to see what it
felt like.
 So you climbed on top of him?
Besides, you kissed his face.
 I m not on top of him, I m beside
him. And I kissed his mouth, not his
face. She tried to stand and found an
ironlike arm preventing her escape.
Again.  Hauk, honey, lemme go.
He spoke again, wordless sounds of
obvious protest.
Whitney sighed.  I told you not to
kiss him while he was asleep.
Was she getting chastised by a
twelve-year-old?  I didn t!
At the raised pitch of her voice,
Hauk s arm clenched tighter, nearly
dragging her down.
She forced her voice to calm.  Hauk,
Wesley, I m asking you to let me go
please. Please release me.
He uttered another string of noisy
protests, but his arm relaxed enough that
she could slide from the bed.
 Well, whatever. Just more stuff for
me to tell him about how you molested
his unconscious body. Now, let s go.
The nail tech s here.
Jolie froze.  Don t you dare. Not
this.
Whitney looked startled and turned
wide eyes up to her.  Oooookay. I just
think it d make him happy. And
embarrass the heck out of you, which is
about as perfect as it gets. She
squeezed Jolie s waist in a friendly half
hug.  But I ll keep it quiet if it means
that much to you.
 Thank you.
 Can I still tell him you carried his
butt? Because that s just funny.
Jolie relaxed and followed her niece
toward the door.  Yes, you can tell him
that part.
With a voice full of condescending
indulgence, c inward Whitney shook her
head and announced,  You are such an
anomaly. You know that, right?
* * *
Smell came back to him first, with
the apple scent of Jolie s hair. Hauk
nuzzled forward and the silky strands
caressed his face. His shoulder ached,
but not too badly. And it didn t matter
because that arm was draped over Jolie.
He opened his eyes.
Twice now he d slept next to her and
didn t remember it. At least this time he
got to wake up to the experience. She
slept on top of the sheets while he was
under them and apparently he d
traversed three quarters of the bed to
reach where she was curled up at the
edge. But who could blame him for that?
Her hand clutched his hand against her,
her bottom pressed into him, and she
smiled so peacefully, giving every
impression she didn t mind. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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