Read Bare Skin: A Billionaire Romance Online
Authors: Leah Holt
“I can never truly make up for it, but when I'm with you...” His head turned to mine, eyes flickering in small twinkles. “You help me forget it all, Willow. I'm doing this for you because I need you by my side. With you there, I get the chance to live life without that memory sitting in the front.”
“Kash, my life wasn't perfect either. I was left behind, forgotten, discarded like trash. But I'm done living in that. Why do you think you were able to break through? Why do you think I'm here with you? If I was still the same person, I wouldn't be here.”
“I don't know how someone could ever leave you, you're amazing. And now that I've found you, I'm not letting you go.” His hand curled over mine, wrapping my fingers tightly.
My lungs jumped, forcing out hot air. His touch made my skin sizzle, his words made my insides swell with every feeling my brain could find. I was hot, cold, buzzing, raw.
With just one tender touch, he ignited me from the inside out.
And I knew he meant every word he said. His eyes stayed frozen on mine, the green glow brightened with envy and need.
“What happened, Kash? Why do you feel the need to make up for your past?”
His tongue licked his lips, chest pressing up to inhale a large gulp of air. “I don't want you to judge me for what I was. I've given you the man I wanted to be, what I was before doesn't really matter.” Kash lifted his hand to my face, brushing my heated skin. “But I know what you went through. Beth explained a lot to me about why you were so anxious and uptight before.” Snapping a palm up, he said, “No insult intended right there, those are her words.”
“Well, she's right. I was that person.” Scrunching my eyes, a single brow shot up. “She told you everything? About my mom and stuff too?”
Nodding his head, his fingers ran through my hair. “I'll tell you about my past some day, but for now I want you to get to know
me.
The man I am and not the man I was. But you need to know that I completely understand, our worlds weren't that different. We lived the same life on different spectrum's, but I was the one who hurt others.”
“If you know all that about me, why can't you just tell me what happened?”
Dragging his hand through his hair, he shook his head. “Look, people change, I'm not the same person I was.” Holding his arms out, he twisted them side to side. “These tattoos, they cover a time in my life that almost didn't bring me here.”
Taking in the art, looking through the images, I spotted something I hadn't before. The bright colors and warping skull, the flowers peppered over the screaming faces, had a hidden image. A date, initials and even deeper than that...
Scars.
Two long scars ran up his wrists, the thick ridges only shining in the sun when he rolled his hands. I don't think I would've ever seen them had he not pointed them out.
“Kash, I'm so sorry you ever felt that way. I'm so sorry you felt like your life wasn't worth living. But nothing in this world—
bad, evil, damned to hell
— is worth losing your own life.” Brushing my fingers lightly over the hardened skin, my eyes warmed with sadness.
He had tried to take his own life, tried to stop his heart from beating and world from moving forward.
My heart broke, lost in his pain, lost in the past he clenched in his fist like a pile of soft shit. He hated himself enough to try and leave this earth, and for that, I wanted him more.
I wanted to make sure he never spent another day hurting, another moment living in a world that wasn't now. I wanted to make sure his chest kept rising, and his heart kept beating.
Because he deserved to have love, to be loved.
And I was going to give him that.
“I see that now, that's why I'm still here. But what happened to me, what I couldn't stop, it was all because I led a life consumed by alcohol. Just like you mom, like I said, our lives weren't that different, but it was me who breathed death. It was me who never said I love you, or that I was sorry. And I could've helped, but I didn't.” Laying a hand over my shoulder, he pressed me into his ribs. “But I'm not that person anymore, and you brought me back. Maybe that's true for your mom too, I don't know.” A heavy hand fell into his lap, lips turning thin. “But I don't want to be judged on what I was, because that's not me anymore. Are you okay with that?”
I had this strange feeling rake my chest, like we were kindred spirits, meant to find each other in this vast world.
His hands, his body, his mind, we fit together perfectly. And I couldn't explain why.
It was as if he understood what my life had been before, like he had lived through a life that was similar but different.
His words were soothing, his voice never wavered in the power he embraced.
I didn't anticipate that moment, my chest opened to seep a little trail of the pain I had felt. He had opened up a piece of my past that I wanted to forget, that had scarred me to the point of being fearful of anyone who tried to get close.
But as much as that hurt, I was letting it go,
to change.
I had never thought that my mother could change, always expecting she was the same person to this very day.
Could I be wrong?
Is there still hope for her, like he found hope to keep going?
Kash wasn't the monster he claimed he was, he had changed. So maybe there was a chance my mother was sober now.
Maybe she regrets what was done to me, maybe she has feelings now too.
I wasn't ready to find out for sure, but just knowing the possibility was there surged my veins with fresh life, a new awakening.
Nothing was ever final.
There was always hope.
And hope could be just enough to keep you going.
Kash
Three months later
T
oday was the day. The day Willow was finally going to get her dream, the day she would see how much she truly meant to me.
It was a lot of work getting here, a lot of time and planning went into this.
But I couldn't be more excited.
My phone chimed, Willow's beautiful face staring back at me on the screen. “Hello, Princess.”
“Holy crap, Kash! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Her high pitched tone screamed through the speaker, excitedly waiting for me to ask her what was going on.
“Spit it out already, what is it?” Smiling to myself, the joy I felt hearing her so happy gave me a rush.
“I just sold another painting, that's the twentieth one! I can't believe it, I just can't believe it. This is everything I've wanted, everything I've worked so hard for. Thank you, thank you, than—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, cutting her off. “That's all you, Willow. People love your work, that's why it's selling.” A smug grin filled my face, as I tried to not give away my own excitement.
I knew that in a little while, Willow was going to be more surprised and elated than she could ever imagine. I had been planning this for months now, and today was her day.
Even though she didn't realize it yet.
“Yes, they love it, but without you, this would never have been possible. Take the thank you already.” Giggling, I could hear her fiddling with something on the other end.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm getting ready to refill my stock, it's been dwindling by the day. I need to stay on top of it.”
“I got something you can stay on top of.”
“Ha ha, I'm sure you do. But sex isn't going to paint for me.”
“How do you know, we haven't tried that yet.”
“Tried what?”
“You painting while I fuck the shit out of you.”
Her laugh exploded through the phone, feeding my veins with instant need. “That would be interesting, I'm sure. Hey, are we still on for lunch later?”
“Absolutely, I'd never miss a date with you.”
“Awe, you're so sweet.” An air filled kiss floated through the speaker. “Alright, I'll see you in a little while.”
Hanging up the phone, I sat back in my chair. This day was the culmination of everything she had worked for, and she didn't have a damn clue.
The past couple months, Willow and I spent every minute we could together. There were days I'd go over to her place and just watch her paint. She was mesmerizing, the way her body moved, the way her hands swept colorful lines across the canvas.
I loved just watching her escape into her passion. Small wrinkles would sprout across her nose when she was thinking, her eyes would flash with ideas and images.
Then her hands would create them, strokes turned into lines, color turned into a beautiful picture. It was really wonderful to have that connection with her.
There was an unspoken understanding between us. A love of art, and capturing the world around us. I used skin, she used blank space, but together, we painted the world.
But it had been so fucking difficult to keep my secret. My surprise for the woman who released the torrent of anger, and replaced it with unconditional love.
Willow had finally set me free.
It was two weeks ago, that I finally told her about what had happened to my grandmother. I had told her about my brush with death, but I never told her why it happened. She knew my drinking had something to do with it, but the true nature I still kept locked away. Opening that door and letting her in, sharing my dark secret and horrid past, it was hard.
And when I let the words transform me into the monster I had been, she swiftly knocked him down. She didn't get scared, or upset. Willow didn't look at me with the face of disgust that I expected.
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pressed her chest against mine, and held me. Her voice was soft, whispering comfort and explanation.
“Kash I understand what you're feeling, but it wasn't your fault. It doesn't matter how drunk you were, you didn't cause her death.”
That was the first time anyone had stood by my side, to send me words of comfort and understanding. When everything happened, my family made it their mission to make me feel like I was the reason for her passing.
And when I tried to stop all the pain, and I didn't succeed...
They shunned me, telling me I was a waste of space, a poor excuse for life. That if I had died, the world would have been better off. But as luck had it, right after being released from the mental hospital on suicide watch, my grandmother's inheritance fell into my lap.
I took that as a sign I had to finally do something, save her name and do right.
It wasn't until Willow that I knew for sure I hadn't been my grandmother's death wish.
She took the time to listen, to hear my perception on the entire night. And when I no longer had the strength to keep speaking, she helped me find my words.
I couldn't thank her enough for helping me see the other side, for showing me the light. I hadn't killed my grandmother, and nothing I ever did would bring her back. The silver lining had been what her death brought out in me.
My grandmother had saved my life.
And for that, I would be forever grateful.
Slipping my feet into the Converse sneakers by my door, I stuffed my phone and wallet into my pockets and headed down town.
I needed to make sure every last touch was perfect, that every piece had fallen into place and would go off without any problems. Because today I was going to tell her those three little words.
The three words that I knew, the three words that no one should say without certainty. I was going to tell her I loved her.
I love her.
And I knew that since the first time my hands met her skin, and my eyes locked on hers. That spark had grown, spreading from my cock to my heart.
The nerves crowding my muscles had been annoying, but I couldn't shake them. I had put so much time into this day, I wanted it to be perfect.
Willow deserved perfection, she deserved the world in her palms, wrapped in a large bow for only her to have.
Taking in a heavy breath, I crossed through a crowd of people. Which were obviously tourists, because no one moved.
The only people around here to never move out of my way, hold a door, or smile in my direction, were travelers. The folks who came here to grab small trinkets and souvenirs, or the newcomers looking for that big break.
Connecting my elbow to a few ribs, I moved the group myself. Yes, I had a couple nasty looks thrown my way, and a back lashing of quick tongue snaps.
But I didn't have time to wait for the out of place cluster to notice I needed to come through. Time was ticking fast, and Willow would be here in twenty minutes.
Pressing my heel into the pavement, I didn't even glance over my shoulder. Most of those people would be gone in a matter of days, and the ones who stayed...
Well, they would know who I was soon enough, that mistake wouldn't happen again.
“Mr. Slade, how's everything going?” Flashing a tight smile, I barely looked at the man. “What do you think, Sir? Will she like it?”
Drawing my fingers across my chin, I ruffled the thick hair. “I think she's going to love it.”
“I'm happy to hear that, my guys have worked really hard.” The guy had dark brown hair that frizzed up around the edges, his tattered shirt had a small rectangle pin above the pocket.
I knew I should have probably known who he was, but I had met with so many different guys during the project, all the names blurred together.
Leaning in, I read his name. “Edward... Can I call you Ed?” Giving me a heavy nod, I asked, “Ed, did you get everything I sent here yesterday?”
“Yes, we did. And I had the guys set it up the best we could. I hope that's alright, we're not exactly art dealers, so we weren't sure exactly how you wanted it.”
Waving my hand, I shook my head. “I'm sure it's fine, just try and make sure the people on the sidewalk don't get in the way.” Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I turned and headed towards Willow.
The knots in my stomach came to life, slam dancing with every organ they could make contact with. I was trying so hard to not let the nerves get the best of me, but that was difficult as fuck.
This was her day.
This was my day.
This was about to be our day.