Scarred Beautiful by Beth Michele Read Free Book Online

glad we got that straightened out,” I croak, just in time for the elevator doors to open.

 
     
     
    Fuck she’s hot. I can feel her uneven breaths against my lips as her chest rises and falls after hearing my words. Those eyes, like green panes of stained glass. That plump bottom lip, I’d love to take between my teeth. And she smells good, like jasmine and lavender.
    I’m not sure what possessed me to say that to her. I know nothing about her. She’s like a little spark though. She lit me up tonight with her smart, sexy mouth, and now she’s got me thinking thoughts I haven’t in a long time, stirring something deep inside of me that’s been asleep. Like how I want to take her right here, make her scream my name while she comes apart beneath me.
    The elevator doors open and she ducks down and sneaks underneath my arm to make her way out.
    “Goodnight, Matt.”
    I hold the doors open and watch her walk down the hall, taking one last look over her shoulder before she turns the corner to her room, leaving me with only one thought.
    When do I get to see her again?
    Shit. I’m fucked.

 
     
     
    I slip the keycard into the door as quickly as I can, my hands somewhat shaky, my feet aching from the high heels I desperately need to remove. The moment I’m inside, I sag back against the door and slide down to the carpet, immediately taking off my shoes and tossing them aside. The guy went from tight-ass to hot-as-hell quicker than it takes a Ferrari to pick up speed. Maybe he’s bipolar.
    I’m breathing heavy and I know it’s not from the alcohol or from any form of physical exertion, although I wish it was— shit . What possessed me to say that to Matt in the elevator? Gee, Fran, I don’t know, maybe the fact that all you could think about as he was sitting across the table from you was having sex with him .
    With a frustrated sigh, I push myself up off the floor and strip down to my bra and panties. I pad to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, trying to put out the flame that’s been ignited deep in my belly. There’s a part of me that wishes I could knock on the door to Matt’s room and just tell him what I want, but I know I’ll only regret it in the morning. It’s a temporary fix. It won’t fill the void in my heart, the crack that’s irreparable.
    As I’m lying in bed, my hand lowers to my belly, touching the scars inked on my skin like a tattoo, the permanent reminder of the past that I’ll never escape. I remember sitting in school wishing I could just erase my father, take one of those No. 2 pencils and make him disappear, drawing a new dad in his place. The kind of dad who sits and reads you bedtime stories and seeks you out for a tackle hug when he comes home from work…a dad who doesn’t have a twisted fondness for a paring knife.
    A knock on the door yanks me from that horrible place and when I glance at the clock on the side table, it reads 1:00 a.m. I can’t imagine who that could be at this hour. Even though I wasn’t sleeping, I let out an annoyed breath then look around for something to cover my skimpy tank and panties, when I spy one of those fluffy hotel robes hanging on the bathroom door. It might just end up in my suitcase. I wrap it around me and belt it, taking a second to revel in its softness before tiptoeing over to the door as if someone can actually hear me from behind it.
    Peyton’s eyes are staring back at me through the peephole and I wonder what the heck she’s doing here. I thought for sure she’d be in the throes of passion right about now.
    I pull the handle for the door and it clicks open to reveal Peyton, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
    “Ahhhhh!” she screams with excitement, before running in and jumping on the luxurious king-sized bed that just moments ago was going to lull me into a not so peaceful sleep.
    “What are you doing here? I thought for sure you’d be with Caleb,” I say, before sitting on the edge of the bed next to