Read Online Burn for You: Outback Skies, Book 2 by Lexxie Couper - Free Book Online
Authors: Lexxie Couper
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before he spun to face her. “You don’t know me, Jenna. You’re obsessed with the memory of a man who didn’t even exist six years ago, let alone now.”
Unable to stop herself, she crossed to where he stood and shoved him. Hard. On the chest.
He staggered back a step, eyes wide with stunned disbelief.
“Are you really this scared to let anyone in, Evan?” she asked, grabbing at the loose front panels of her shirt to tug them over her breasts before folding her arms over her chest. It was a defensive position. A closed-off position. She knew that. Years at university studying communications had made her a body-language expert. In her line of work, she used that knowledge during interviews to hone in on moments when her interviewee was unsettled or guarded, or when it became obvious to her their answers weren’t as truthful as their words suggested. She also knew how to use her own body language to her advantage, to hide the way she was feeling from those around her. But there was no way she could hide the hurt slicing through her now.
The sense of betrayal.
Of loss.
An unreadable emotion flared in his eyes. Then he clenched his jaw, stretching the scarred flesh on the left side of his face tighter. He drew a slow breath, his shoulders squaring as he straightened completely. “Tell me truthfully, Jenna. When we first met on Bondi Beach all those years ago, what was the first thing that ran through your mind?”
A tight lump filled Jenna’s throat. She gazed at him, knowing the answer to his question. Knowing the truth would damn her, but knowing she would not lie to him all the same.
He held her stare, unblinking, unwavering. “The very first thing.”
Stomaching rolling, she swallowed. “I thought you were the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my entire life.”
The ambiguous emotion in his eyes flickered. His nostrils grew white. He slowly stepped back from her. Slowly turned his head until all she could see was his left profile. Slowly shucked his jacket from his shoulders. He tossed it aside and then, all without looking at her, hooked his fingers under the hem of his long-sleeve shirt and pulled it up his torso. Up his ribcage. Over his shoulders and head.
Until he stood before her dressed only in his jeans.
“And now?” he asked, motionless. “What do you think now?”
She stared at what he’d revealed to her.
The left side of his torso, from his neck down to his hipbone, was a tangled web of damaged flesh. His left arm was the same, only his left hand seemed minimally touched by the scars. Twisted, stretched white skin covered his left pectoral muscle. His nipple was no longer formed. It was now just a dark blotch of uneven skin on his chest, lost to the wounds. The scars continued down over his abs, growing thicker over the left side of his stomach. His navel was a shallow hollow, the right half perfectly formed, the left little but scarred white flesh that continued beneath the waistband of his jeans.
Jenna’s stomach churned. How had he survived ? Not just the fire, but the pain? How had he not gone mad with the agony of it?
He drew in a slow breath, his chest rising and falling as he did so. The movement drew her attention to his upper body again, and once more, she found herself wondering how he’d managed to keep his sanity. The right side of his chest, his torso was untouched by scars. The skin was smooth and perfect, like it had been when she’d first met him. She’d spent many nights fantasizing about running her fingers over that skin, experiencing its satiny warmth against her own. Wondering what it would be like to lick. Yearning to feel it sliding against hers as he moved inside her. And yet his left side…
She swallowed, her throat thick, and ran her stare over the scarred mess that was the left side of his upper body again.
Her brain couldn’t process it. Couldn’t connect the two. “Oh God, Evan. It must have hurt so much. I wish I’d known. I wish… I wish I could
Unable to stop herself, she crossed to where he stood and shoved him. Hard. On the chest.
He staggered back a step, eyes wide with stunned disbelief.
“Are you really this scared to let anyone in, Evan?” she asked, grabbing at the loose front panels of her shirt to tug them over her breasts before folding her arms over her chest. It was a defensive position. A closed-off position. She knew that. Years at university studying communications had made her a body-language expert. In her line of work, she used that knowledge during interviews to hone in on moments when her interviewee was unsettled or guarded, or when it became obvious to her their answers weren’t as truthful as their words suggested. She also knew how to use her own body language to her advantage, to hide the way she was feeling from those around her. But there was no way she could hide the hurt slicing through her now.
The sense of betrayal.
Of loss.
An unreadable emotion flared in his eyes. Then he clenched his jaw, stretching the scarred flesh on the left side of his face tighter. He drew a slow breath, his shoulders squaring as he straightened completely. “Tell me truthfully, Jenna. When we first met on Bondi Beach all those years ago, what was the first thing that ran through your mind?”
A tight lump filled Jenna’s throat. She gazed at him, knowing the answer to his question. Knowing the truth would damn her, but knowing she would not lie to him all the same.
He held her stare, unblinking, unwavering. “The very first thing.”
Stomaching rolling, she swallowed. “I thought you were the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my entire life.”
The ambiguous emotion in his eyes flickered. His nostrils grew white. He slowly stepped back from her. Slowly turned his head until all she could see was his left profile. Slowly shucked his jacket from his shoulders. He tossed it aside and then, all without looking at her, hooked his fingers under the hem of his long-sleeve shirt and pulled it up his torso. Up his ribcage. Over his shoulders and head.
Until he stood before her dressed only in his jeans.
“And now?” he asked, motionless. “What do you think now?”
She stared at what he’d revealed to her.
The left side of his torso, from his neck down to his hipbone, was a tangled web of damaged flesh. His left arm was the same, only his left hand seemed minimally touched by the scars. Twisted, stretched white skin covered his left pectoral muscle. His nipple was no longer formed. It was now just a dark blotch of uneven skin on his chest, lost to the wounds. The scars continued down over his abs, growing thicker over the left side of his stomach. His navel was a shallow hollow, the right half perfectly formed, the left little but scarred white flesh that continued beneath the waistband of his jeans.
Jenna’s stomach churned. How had he survived ? Not just the fire, but the pain? How had he not gone mad with the agony of it?
He drew in a slow breath, his chest rising and falling as he did so. The movement drew her attention to his upper body again, and once more, she found herself wondering how he’d managed to keep his sanity. The right side of his chest, his torso was untouched by scars. The skin was smooth and perfect, like it had been when she’d first met him. She’d spent many nights fantasizing about running her fingers over that skin, experiencing its satiny warmth against her own. Wondering what it would be like to lick. Yearning to feel it sliding against hers as he moved inside her. And yet his left side…
She swallowed, her throat thick, and ran her stare over the scarred mess that was the left side of his upper body again.
Her brain couldn’t process it. Couldn’t connect the two. “Oh God, Evan. It must have hurt so much. I wish I’d known. I wish… I wish I could
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