Love Scars by Lark Lane Read Free Book Online Page B

whispered, staring into space.
    Her hands were still clenched into rigid fists. I pried them open and rubbed the skin. In one hand she held the rose I’d left earlier with the fairy, and it fell to the ground. Her palm was bleeding from a thorn embedded in her skin. I pulled the thorn out and lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her palm.
    “Dead.”
    I dropped her hand and lifted her chin. Made her look at me. Her eyes slowly came back into focus, and she seemed to recognize me. Seemed to know where she was.
    “Fuck.” The word escaped me before I could think. I bent down and kissed her on the mouth. I wasn’t being Sir Galahad, far from it. It wasn’t a kiss of comfort. It was a kiss of desire. I wanted as much from Nora Deven as I wanted to give to her.
    I wanted her to kiss me back.

Chapter 8
    They were all still dead, but the pine tree smell faded, replaced by the soothing scent of my roses. I heard the fountain and the wind chimes. In the distance Lisa yelled at someone to get the hell out and go home.
    What happened? One minute I was sitting on the iron bench in the garden, smelling a Peace rose, watching stars brighten in a darkening sky. The next minute I was in J.D.’s arms.
    He kissed me. His lips were soft but firm, and at first gentle. I melted into his embrace. Safe here. His tongue pushed into my mouth and a thrill of heat and desire shot through me and down between my legs. I pressed my hips against him and reached up behind his neck, my fingers in his hair.
    I had to have him. Please let me have him, just once. Just once let me feel like a normal girl with a normal boy, doing something normal and wonderful. Lies, all lies. There was nothing normal about it. I just wanted him to cover me with kisses, and touch me in places that would drive all the other feelings, the bad feelings, away.
    It was wonderful to fall apart in his arms.
    My left hand hurt, but both my hands were unclenched. I touched his face and anchored myself in his gaze. “Thank you,” I said, and he kissed me again. Everything went woozy, and he swept me up into his arms. God, so strong.
    The world went black.

    I woke up in my bedroom, still dressed and lying on top of the covers. J.D. sat beside the bed, hunched over with my hand pressed to his forehead.
    “Are you praying?” I said. The idea struck me funny.
    He looked up and smiled like he thought it was funny too. “You’re back.”
    He was so strong and gentle, he made me feel wonderful. I regretted dissing him as a loser before, even if I’d only said so to myself.
    “I wasn’t praying,” he said. “I don’t believe in God.”
    “Me neither. At least, I haven’t for a long time.” God couldn’t exist in my world. Or if he did, he was an asshole. “Where’s Lisa?”
    “She and Frank waited up for you. After midnight, I told them to go to bed and I’d stay with you.”
    “That was nice of you.” I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was after one in the morning. “You’re a good guy.”
    “Not really,” he said. I swear he blushed, and it drove me crazy. He put my hand down by my side and rested his palm flat on my stomach. My entire body tingled with desire.
    I held up my left hand. “It hurts.”
    “You were holding an American Beauty rose,” he said. “A thorn did that.”
    “Peace,” I said. He must have meant the iron fairy’s rose.
    “Peace?”
    “American Beauties are red. The pink and yellow ones are Peace roses. It wasn’t an American Beauty.”
    “You’re an American beauty,” he said.
    I would have laughed, but he was so sincere—and then I swear he blushed. I sat up and put my hand behind his neck and drew his lips to mine. I pushed my tongue into his mouth, desperate to feel his acceptance. His tongue pushed against mine as he pushed me back onto the pillow. He moaned and ran his hand over my breast, and I arched my back. His kiss was hot and insistent. I was on fire for him.
    I pulled him over me and rolled him onto his