Read Online Beneath the Scars by Melanie Moreland - Free Book Online Page B

here all the time.”
    She turned, and I felt the heat of her gaze. “Come to me, then.”
    “You have to stop this, Megan.”
    “Stop what? Being a friendly neighbor? Thanking you for finding me, bringing me out of the storm, and looking after me?”
    I sighed and looked at her. Her brown eyes were too expressive. Normally, dark eyes were flat, but hers were bursting with life and fire, and her fire was directed at me. “My cruelty sent you into that storm.”
    She shrugged. “Your words were heartless, but I would’ve gone looking for her regardless.” She paused. “You said them to drive me away, Zachary. I know that.”
    She turned away and looked back toward the ocean. “And I’m not stopping. You might as well give in.”
    “Why, Megan?”
    For a minute she said nothing. I startled when I felt her hand slip into mine, which was resting on my leg. Her fingers curled between mine; our palms meshed together. I looked down at them, noticing the differences: her hand so small and smooth, her fingers tiny as they entwined my longer, calloused ones. The urge to lift our hands to my lips, to caress those tiny fingers, was overwhelming and my eyes flew to hers.
    “Why?” I repeated. “I’m not a nice man. I have nothing to give you.”
    “I disagree. I think you have a lot to give. You’re just too scared to give it.”
    “You’re wrong.”
    “No,” she insisted. “I’m not.”
    “What makes you so sure?”
    She squeezed my hand. “This does.”
    “My hand?” I shook my head at her. “You’re not making any sense.”
    “Not your hand, Zachary,” her patient voice whispered. “It’s how I feel when I hold your hand, when I touch you.” She drew in a deep breath. “How it felt when you kissed me.”
    “That was a mistake.”
    “Why?”
    I yanked my hand away and stood up. “You don’t want to kiss me. You don’t want to know me, and you certainly don’t want to pursue a relationship with me. I’m toxic. I’m scarred outside and in. Stay away from me.” I turned and began to walk away, but I heard her follow me. Pivoting quickly, I found her right behind me, my abrupt stop causing her to begin to stumble. On their own accord, my arms reached out to stop her from falling. As soon as my hands touched her, everything changed. Once again, I felt the heat between us—the unexplained feeling of comfort and desire combining and swirling around us. My fingers tightened on her shoulders, but I fought the urge to drag her closer.
    “You need to go,” I insisted, but my voice held no conviction.
    “Please,” she whispered.
    Without another thought, my mouth was on hers, our lips parting, as we melted together. I yanked her tight to me, desperate to have her closer. I buried my hands into her thick hair, wrapping the long waves around my fingers, tugging on them gently as I worked her mouth. Hot, burning passion lit up within me, overriding all my other senses. Growling, I pushed her up against the stone of the house. Her hands were wrapped around my neck, holding me close, her body arched into mine. She was so fucking sweet under my tongue, her response so warm and giving. Small whimpers at the back of her throat were answered with my own needy groans. I pulled away, panting, drawing much needed oxygen into my lungs, but right away, my mouth sought out the smooth feel of her neck and shoulder, my tongue tasting her sweet, sun-soaked skin.
    “I’m no good for you, Megan,” I murmured into her warmth, groaning as my tongue circled her small earlobe and nipped at the skin behind her ear.
    “Zachary,” she breathed, tilting her head, the other side of her neck presenting itself to my mouth. I trailed open-mouthed, wet kisses up to her ear. A shudder went through my spine when I felt her lips and tongue ghosting over my neck, nibbling and swirling, leaving a long trail of moisture behind.
    Until she reached my ear and her lips moved toward my cheek. I stiffened, my body locking down, and