Scarred

Chapter 7: Michael Returns

She eyed him again, not liking that he was still wearing his hat and felt the need to constantly hide his face. It has to feel awkward for him, and it's getting irritating as hell to me.

Coming to a sudden decision she approached him and boldly asked, "Might it be easier if you just show me the other side of your face already? It can't be comfortable for you to feel you must forever be in shadows."

He visibly stiffened and his gold eyes became hard, his jaw clenching in preparation to lash out at her. "Before you speak the assumptions and accusations I can see in your eyes," she cut in with a sharp tone. "Please consider that you are not the only person in the world with scars. Though yours might be more visible than most, it does not mean the more hidden ones are any less painful." With that she turned on her heel, to finish preparing her dinner, leaving him standing in shock again, the wine bottle dangling loosely in his hand.

"Please don't drop the wine," she commented over her shoulder. "Red isn't easy to get out of the carpet."

She smiled slightly to herself when a moment later she heard the creak of the cork being pulled from the bottle. Just as she finished pulling her food off the stove, she was met with a glass of cabernet. She accepted the wine, her fingers brushing over his while she looked into his eyes. She was startled to see he'd removed his hat and was looking at her straight on for once, challenge and uncertainty in his gaze.

Damn he's tall. He's actually got a couple inches on me. I kind of like it, she thought to herself as another wave of desire washed through her. At six foot, Lucienne was so accustomed to men being shorter than her that she simply didn't notice anymore, except the rare occasion when someone wasn't.

She looked at his face framed by dark curly hair she was itching to run her fingers through. Quickly she scanned his face, registering the odd textures that trailed from his left cheek down his neck and disappeared under his shirt collar. The scars didn't really stand out, though they looked a little like acid burns, and she wondered if he was using makeup to make them less noticeable. She met his gaze, and found herself trapped in the intensity of his eyes, raw passion rising up in response.

She was hyper aware of her fingers touching his around the stem of the glass neither wanted to release. Her body drew closer into him, almost pulled in like iron to a magnet and an overwhelming desire to kiss him raged through her.

In spite of her body's demands, she couldn't quite make herself close the last few inches. Her other hand rose to caress his scarred cheek, aborting her initial intention to pull him to her lips.

His eyes widened slightly in shock at her soft touch, and he seemed caught in indecision before resolve flashed across his face. He closed the space between them, claiming her lips while snaking his free hand into her honey hair. His kiss was soft and tender, and Lucienne melted into him.

Together they set the wine glass down on the counter, simultaneously sliding their hands up each other's arms to wrap around their bodies, their lips never losing contact. Lucienne slid her fingers into his silky hair and nibbled at his lower lip. Michael gave a low growl and she suddenly found herself pinned against the refrigerator. She gasped at the cool metal surface against her back, her sweats and tank doing little to insulate her. His tongue slid against hers, wrestling and teasing before retreating, drawing hers out to explore him in turn.

His lips suddenly closed to suckle her tongue before opening to duel with her again. She moaned, lost in his delicious heat, and lifted a leg to hook around his hip, drawing him against her molten center. Her hips moved with a mind of their own, grinding her against his growing hardness and making her gasp in pleasure. Slowly he trailed kisses down her neck before finding a spot that made her moan again and she gently bit down on his neck in pure bliss.