“I’m aware,” Rory says matter-of-factly. “I know how your body has changed.”
“It’s one thing to know it, though, isn’t it? And another to experience it.”
“There’s nothing about your body I won’t love.”
“Don’t say that. You don’t know.”
Rory brushes a loose strand of hair from my face. “Tell me what you need to feel comfortable—no—tell me what you need to feel as sexy as I see you.”
This man is unreal. He can’t be real. I clear my throat. “We can be intimate, but only if you promise that after, if you change your mind about proposing, you’ll tell me.”
“That’s stupid, but from the look on your face, I think I better agree to this, if only to make you feel comfortable.”
I nod. “You do.”
“Okay. I promise if I change my mind, I will tell you, but I can tell you now there isn’t a shot in hell—”
“Rory! Stop.” I chuckle.
“Do you remember what you told me last year?” he asks.
“Can I get a hint?”
“Before I took my shirt off for the first time?”
I shake my head, unable to think about anything except Rory Dennis, naked and mine.
“You told me fighters find scars sexy as fuck.”
“Oh,” I gasp. I hadn’t been expecting that. I’d forgotten those words from what seems like a lifetime ago.
“Is that what you’re worried about? Because you don’t need to be. You’re a fighter, and if you’re sincere when you tell me you find my scarred chest sexy, then you have to believe I’m sincere when I tell you that your scars of being a survivor are also sexy as fuck to me.”
I nod. How could he know what I’m feeling without me saying it? He chips away at every insecurity I have. I was afraid he’d think my apartment is shitty compared to my apartment in KC, but he loves my home. I was worried he’d find my body lacking in its new form, but he is a doctor. He knows how much my body has changed, probably more than I do.
“That’s part of it,” I say finally.
“Look. I know you have tiny laparoscopic scars in the lower abdomen. I also know you had additional surgery and a larger scar in your torso. The small scars will match the dimples on your lower back that drive me wild, and the larger scar, well, that one will point me home. I’ll love every inch of your body, even if it is covered in a hundred scars. I promise.”
Bunching his shirt in my hands, I pull him in for a kiss because that little speech of his deserves to be rewarded. “Okay,” I say. “If you trusted me to see your body, I’ll trust you to see mine.”
I hate that the confidence I once commanded is all gone, but somehow, the fact that it’s Rory who is about to see me naked soothes me. I stand in front of him while he sits on the edge of my bed. I take a deep breath and pull my top over my head. The lights are on, and every cell in my body commands me to turn them off, but I refuse. I will trust Rory Dennis with my body because he once trusted me with his. I hadn’t let him down then. I’m hoping he won’t let me down now.
His hand floats upward to my breast, and he caresses me over my sports bra. His fingers wander and trail down my abdomen until they land on my scars. He traces the scars as he studies them, and I turn to the ceiling, not wanting to see his reaction. A rejection would hurt too much.
The heat of his mouth covers each scar, one by one, as he dusts kisses between them. His mouth leaves my body for only a second. “My little fighter,” he whispers and continues to kiss and lick my body. I look down at him, kissing my abdomen. I stare at his red hair, and I run my fingers through it, encouraging him.
“Rory?”
“Yeah?”
“Make love to me,” I plead.
His body stills. “I have plans for you, Valentina. I promise. But I’m not making love to you.”
I step away from him and search for my discarded shirt. “What?” I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it was too much to ask. Why did I ever think this could work? The hot woman he had sex with is long gone, and this is all that is left of her.
“No. Come here.” He takes my hand and forces me to sit on his lap so he can look me dead in the eye. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.