Dumpster Fire by Elise Faber

Author:Elise Faber [Faber, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781946140876
Publisher: Elise Faber

Fourteen

The Dark

Soph

She could kiss this man for the rest of her life, just spend an eternity sipping at his mouth, stroking her tongue along his, reveling in the feel of his hands running over her body.

But she needed to finish her story.

Pushing lightly on his chest, she pulled her lips from his and dropped her forehead to his chest, her breath coming in rapid puffs, desire making her skin feel too tight to fit over her skeleton.

He groaned, his fingers slipping under her T-shirt and skating along the skin of her back.

That touch cleared her mind.

Tight skin. Painful skin. Scars that would never go away.

“Let me go,” she said, careful to keep her voice neutral, especially when she wanted to shove him away, to scream at him to release her that instant.

She didn’t show anyone her back.

Not anyone. Not to a lover. Not in a film.

She’d had it written into her contract for a body double, never wore backless dresses.

Because of the scars.

Not because she was ashamed of them, per se, but because of what they represented. Who they represented.

Rob, to his credit, immediately released her, scooting back to give her space.

“It’s not you,” she whispered. “It’s just—”

Then she shored up every last bit of courage she possessed and lifted the back of her shirt, revealing the last of her insecurities. She’d leave them all up on this mountain—her shame of the scars, the armor she’d used to close herself off from the world, the pain of her past.

Over.

Done.

Peeling that lid fully off and tossing the fucker over the cliff.

“These,” she said.

His fingers brushed the skin of her back, rippled and hardened, still pink and abused-looking even all these years later. “You’re still beautiful. I don’t care about these.”

“I don’t either.” She put up her hand when he started to reply. “I don’t care that I have them,” she said. “I care what they remind me of, what was taken from me.” Teeth pressing into her bottom lip. “And what I’ll never get back.”

Fingers lacing through hers, tugging her to his side, his other hand rubbing up and down her spine. “What won’t you get back, sweetheart?”

So. Many. Things.

But things he would only begin to understand if she told him about them. “When I was thirteen, I realized the truth about what my family was involved in.” She inhaled, released a shaky breath. “Drugs. Violence. Prostitution rings. I always just thought I was lucky growing up. We lived in a big house. My dad worked from home a lot. My mom was beautiful and always dressed in the absolute latest fashion.” A shrug. “I had any toy you could think of, nice clothes, professional haircuts. It was luxurious, and I was absolutely spoiled. I didn’t want for anything. The moment it was mentioned, or I saw a commercial or a printed ad for something I might want, someone went out and bought it for me. Same with meals. We had a full-time chef at the house, and he would cook anything I wanted.

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