Sexy Wreck

Chapter 24

Then there were the picture Zeke had taken of her that morning, which told an interesting tale of their own. At first, she'd been uncomfortable being the focus of hist attention, but he'd coaxed her to open up, to trust him, and she had, physically and emotionally, she realized as she picked up one of the photos of her seducing the camera, and Zeke.

Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt. Despite every attempt she'd made to keep her emotions out of the equation of the weekend, she'd gone and fallen in love with Zeke. Her own story was right there in her eyes for her to see - the way she felt about him, along with the fact that she;d given him a piece of herself that would forever be his. Not just her body, or her hearts, but her soul, as well.

His words came back to her, so accurate and sincere. I look into your eyes and I see a little girl who's carried a wealth of emotional burdens for too many years now, and a woman who is afraid to take chances on what most likely is a sure thing. I see a woman who hides behind her camera, even while she tries to uncover everyone else's secrets.

Zeke knew her well. And she knew without a doubt that he'd taken the pictures of her this morning because he'd wanted to see what he saw in her. It was all there, insecurities and fears, the gradual sensual blossoming he'd cajoled out of her, and even the love she hadn't realized had found its way into her heart.

She felt something wet trickle down her cheek and wiped away a tear. Then another. She caught sight of a picture of Zeke, the one where he was lying on a blade of grass. But it wasn't the sexy smile that drew her, or even the come-hither look in his eyes that told Axelle how much he wanted her. No, it was the scar that started a few inches above the waist-band of his shorts - an injury he'd been so self-conscious of, enough to keep refusing her dozens of attempts to get him to pose for her charity calendar.

She traced the line in the photograph, remembering vividly how that puckered skin had felt beneath her fingers, her lips. She thought of the way she'd confronted Zeke about those scars when she'd arrive at the cabin, how she''d made him face them, deal with them, and not let an old injury affect his decision to do the calendar project. Those scars were a part of who and what he was, she'd told hi,.

She laughed around another bout of tears and knew she ought to take her own advice to heart. Zeke's scars were on the outside, hers were on the inside, but the suffering and insecurity that came with those wounds were the same. And it was time she confronted her own personal scars, and her past. Face the pain, deal with it, and not let it affect her decision to let Zeke into her life.

A brisk knock on the door startled her, and she stood, swiping at her damp eyes and cheeks as she headed toward the entryway. She looked into the peephole and saw Zeke standing on the other side with a fierce expression on his face. He looked really pissed off, and she wondered at the wisdom of letting him inside. Maybe it was better if they had this conversation in the morning, after he'd cooled off a bit.

He banged on the door with his fist, rattling the wood and the chain securing the door. "Open up, Axelle," he ordered in an uncompromising tone. "Or else your neighbors are going to hear a very personal conversation out here in the hallway."

Knowing he was a man as good as his word, and not wanting her neighbors to be privy to her personal life, she unlocked the door and opened it for him. He stormed into her apartment, his entire body fairly crackling with energy and a fury she knew he had every right to feel after the way she'd bolted on him this morning. His hair was tousled around his head, he hadn't shaved since the night before, and he looked not only exhausted but dark and dangerous, as well.

But she didn't fear him. Not at all. That he'd made the effort to figure out where she loved was a very positive thing in her estimation. If he didn't care, he wouldn't be her. And she knew that wasn't the case with Zeke. If anything, he cared too much, and she was lucky to have found a man like him.

She exhaled a deep breath and asked very calmly, "How did you find out where I lived?"

He spun around and jammed his hands on his jean-clad hips. He glared at her, which did nothing to conceal the hurt she detected in his eyes, along with a brighter determination.

"It wasn't easy. First, I had to hunt down your friend, who ought to wear a tracking device because I was one step behind her most of the afternoon. Once I found her, I demanded your address and seeing that she owed me one for giving you the directions to the cabin, she cracked."

Axelle bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing, certain that Zeke wouldn't appreciate her finding humor at his expense. At least not at the moment, while he was so angry and hurt.

An awkward silence descended between them as he continued to glare at her, and she waved a hand toward the photographs on the coffee table. "Ummm, since you're here, you can take a look at the pictures I took and we can decide which ones you'd like to go into the calendar."

"At the moment, I don't give a damn about those pictures!" he stalked toward her, blue fire blazing in his eyes. "That's not why I'm here."

For every purposeful step he took forward, she took one back, until her bottom hit the edge of the small kitchen table that adjoined the living room. He closed the distance between them, and there was no mistaking the erection straining against the fly of his jeans and pressing against her mound.

His gaze held hers as he tugged on the snap of her pants and ripped open the front placket. A frisson of excitement shot through her, making her feel alive and heady with anticipation, something only this man had the ability to trigger within her.