Damaged and the Cobra (9 page)

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Authors: Bijou Hunter

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Damaged and the Cobra
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Chapter Twenty - Aaron

Despite her love of pineapple on pizza, Lark was
perfection. I felt like a love starved moth drawn to the light of her smile.
Lark smiled a lot too, but I had already learned to tell the difference between
the fake smiles of someone putting on a show and her genuine smiles. Lark’s
green eyes revealed the truth. Every time she looked at me, I knew her interest
was real. This was no Kristen situation where she said the right things and I
never questioned her heart. With Lark, I knew her heart already belonged to me.

I made her laugh too. No one thought I was funny.
Maybe Cooper laughed, but most people thought I was the artist or voice of
reason. Lark thought I was everything. Funny and smart too. Hell, she was even
curious how I named my dogs.

“Pollack is for Jackson Pollack, right?” she asked,
making me want to kiss all over her again. “Why Professor though?”

Finished with the pizza, I shoved the rest in the
frig and returned to sit across from her.

“It’s for Professor Longhair.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Smiling like a crazy man, I couldn’t wait to share
everything with her. I even considered showing off my paintings of her, but
worried she might think I was a stalker or obsessed freak. Figuring I better let
her get to know me before I showed off my weirder side, I was keeping the
paintings to myself for the time being.

Once Professor Longhair played his rocking blues,
Lark moved to the music.

“I used to love to dance.”

I nearly asked what made her stop until remembering
how her brother died while she practiced for dance class. Based on how the
light in her eyes dimmed, I sensed she was remembering that too.

“You are so beautiful,” I said, hoping to distract
her.

Lark grinned, seeing my ploy. “I always wanted to
fall for a boy with pretty blue eyes. It’s like God made you just for me.”

“You make it very hard for me to think.”

“And you make me feel like Thunder Kitten again.”

Speechless, I just stared and Lark burst into
hysterics.

“Thunder Kitten?” I finally asked when she bent
over laughing.

“That was my name when I was on a roller derby
team. We were the Storm Babes.”

Looking at her little frame, I should be shocked at
her playing the rough sport of roller derby. However, from that moment I first
gazed upon her little pixy face, I knew my girl was a fighter.

Lark stopped dancing and watched me. What should
have felt awkward didn’t because it was Lark. Everything felt right with her
and I stepped closer.

“Show me your bedroom please,” she said, resting
her hands on my chest. “I want to know.”

“Hell,” I murmured, nearly sweeping her into my
arms and running to the bed. Instead, I used every ounce of self control to
simply smile and take her hand.

Once in the small master bedroom, Lark didn’t look
around or make chitchat. She just stared up at me with those wonderful green
eyes and waited. I sensed she wasn’t unsure about me as much as sex.

“Have you been with a guy before?” I asked,
caressing her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Once.”

“It wasn’t good though.”

Lark shook her head and I saw she was nervous. “I’m
not sure what to do. Like I know, but…”

“If you keep looking at me the way you are, all
you’ll have to do is say yes and I’ll do the rest,” I said then added in a
whisper, “I fucking love when you look at me like you are.”

When Lark smiled, it took all my self control not
to take her immediately. No foreplay. Hell, no play at all. Just enter her body
and make it mine.

Instead of taking what I wanted, I gave Lark what
she needed. Cupping her face, I kissed her softly, holding back all of my
hunger. Her lips told me how behind her fear was a hunger too. She wanted it
all, but didn’t know how to ask.

Pulling off my shirt, I tossed it on the nearby
dresser then reached to remove her shirt. Her expression stopped me. She stared
at my tatted chest like in shock. My arousal made way for insecurity. If Lark
judged me unworthy, I wasn’t sure I would recover. Everything I was rested in
her hands.

Lifting her gaze to meet mine, she stared wide
eyed. “Your body is a work of art.”

“Fuck,” I whispered, tugging her shirt over her
head. “You’re killing me.”

“Why?”

“You’re too perfect and I’m afraid you’re a lie I
tell myself.”

“You think I’m perfect?” she asked, breathing too
fast as she removed her bra and stood awkwardly. “No one’s thought that about
me before.”

Thinking of Cooper, I said what he might in such a
situation. “That’s because I’m fucking perfect and they’re not.”

Never before had I worried so much about losing control,
but I didn’t think I could wait much longer to explore her body. Once Lark
removed her jeans and panties, her awkwardness increased. Most of all, she
didn’t know what to do with her arms, crossing and uncrossing them.

I leaned her back on the bed and kissed her. As I
kicked off my jeans and slid down my boxers, Lark tried to find a comfortable
position.

“I don’t know what to do with my hands,” she
mumbled.

“Baby, you can do whatever the hell you want with
them.”

Lark nodded, but looked nervous.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

Lark nodded again and I saw in her eyes how much
she trusted me. Her heart was mine and I took this responsibility seriously. I
could build her up or destroy her with what happened next.

“Lark, I know you can’t see how beautiful you are.
Trust that I see you the way you really are and not the way you’ve been raised
to see yourself. Do you understand?”

Tension easing, Lark smiled and finally found a
place for her hands. Resting them palms down against my chest, she smiled up at
me.

“I understand. You’re beautiful too. Painfully
beautiful and I want you.”

Grinning, I kissed her and held back less than
before. Lark wasn’t submitting, but meeting me in every kiss and embrace. Caressing
the wet curls between her legs, I found her more than ready and we hadn’t even
gotten started.

“Say you’re beautiful,” I whispered, stroking her.

“I’m beautiful.”

“Good,” I murmured, kissing her jaw then moving
south. “Say it again.”

“I’m beautiful,” she whimpered as I sucked her hard
nipple into my mouth. “Oh, Aaron.”

Still caressing her clit, I sucked her nipples,
pulling at the flesh until her hips bucked and I heard her cry out. Her gasps
of pleasure were like music and I wanted to hear them again. I wanted to hear
them always.

With Lark watching me in such a pleasured way, I
could barely roll the condom over my cock. She studied my face, never noticing
my shaking hands. Her fingers were teasing her nipples like I had with my lips
and tongue. Seeing her touch herself wasn’t helping my concentration.

Once I was ready, her legs opened and she squirmed
in anticipation. I nearly came at the sight of her so aroused, but retained my
control a bit longer.

Even hot and damp, her pussy was tight as the tip
of my cock disappeared inside. Lark whimpered until I filled her then gave me a
big smile. She really was making it impossible not to shoot my wad five seconds
in.

“I want you to be mine,” Lark groaned as I tested
her body with a gentle thrust. “I don’t deserve to have what I want, but I want
you anyway.”

Frowning at her comment, I wished to respond with
kind words. My control was gone though, leaving behind only hunger and raw
need. Thrusting into her, I fucked Lark like I’d never fucked another woman
before. It was more than sex. I was claiming Lark. She was mine and I’d kill
anyone who took her from me.

Chapter Twenty One - Lark

Aaron’s tattoos were perfectly linked to one
another like a masterly designed creation. As he rested on his back and hid his
hands under his hard sexy ass, I explored his perfect body. Even knowing he
wanted to touch me, I couldn’t concentrate when he got curious. Now, it was my
turn to play.

Over the left side of his chest was a large heart
interconnected with the other tattoos. I traced it then met his gaze.

“Pretty,” I teased then licked the heart and nearby
nipple.

“Shit, I’m using my hands.”

“No, you’ll behave or suffer my wrath. You wouldn’t
like me when I’m angry.”

Aaron smirked. “Really?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“You’re a horrible liar. I like that in a woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I kissed where his cobra tattoo
wound around the heart.

“The heart is for my girl’s name,” he said, his
voice rough. “I’ll have her name tattooed in the middle. That’s why it’s so
big. I didn’t know how long her name would be.”

Our eyes met again and we both thought the same
thing.

Four little letters.

As Aaron smiled at me, I sucked at the flesh in the
heart. “I was thinking about getting a tattoo of my man’s name just over my
hooch in the shape of a key because he’s the only one who can open me up.”

Bursting into laughter, Aaron gave up on keeping
his hands to himself. “No more playing.”

“You’re a control freak in bed,” I said as he
pulled me against him. “Keep it up and it won’t be your name over my pussy.”

“You had me at pussy,” Aaron moaned, kissing me
until I couldn’t breathe. “Have I mentioned how much I love your nipples?”

Glancing down as he cupped by butt and pulled me
against his erection, I saw the same smallish breasts with very happy puffy
nipples.

“What about them? They’re weird.”

Aaron frowned. “They’re unique. Cooper said I
should paint you naked, but I didn’t know what you looked like. I imagined many
different versions. The reality is better.”

Leaning away from him, I shared his frown. “I don’t
know what to think about any of what you just said. It was all a little weird. You
and Cooper talking about me naked. You painting me naked. You comparing me with
your fantasies.”

Aaron bit his bottom lip and my pussy clenched at
the sight of it. “I’ve been thinking about you for months,” he murmured as I
slid up and down with his erection between us. “A guy is bound to think about
the naughty bits and I really like your naughty bits.”

“I thought about you too and,” I said, leaning to
his ear to whisper, “it was so hard not to make noises alone in the dark with
my hand between my legs.”

“That’s it.”

Aaron reached for the nightstand, but I guided him
inside me. Groaning with pleasure, he used a hand to cup my butt. His other
hand squeezed my breast with one of those puffy nipples between his fingers.

“I’m on the pill,” I whimpered while adjusting to
the sensation of being so full. “I should have mentioned that early, but I was
busy drooling over your hot body.”

Aaron kissed me softly as he rested on me on my
back. “I can’t wait to teach you all these amazing positions, but we might have
to wait until I have more control.”

Tracing the heart on his chest, I lifted me legs
and wrapped them around his strong hips.

“Are you going to fuck me hard like before?” I
moaned as he thrust once then twice deeply. “Don’t hold back. I’m sick of
waiting.”

Chapter Twenty Two - Aaron

Lark slept curled up in the fetal position on the
other side of the bed. I watched her for a long time, memorizing her features
and surprised to find she had a splash of freckles at the base of her nose.
They’d been hidden by makeup. After our midnight shower to cool off, those
freckles were free to shine.

I wanted to touch them, but Lark wasn’t a deep
sleeper. Whenever I moved, her lashes fluttered and I thought she would wake.
She never did, but I was certain if I allowed my fingers to brush over the
spots on her fair skin that she would wake and I knew she was tired.

Exhausted too, I couldn’t sleep. The desire to
create woke me early and I eventually left the bed. Lark looked so fragile
cocooned in the sheet. Even hating to leave her, I needed to get all of my
emotions out on paper.

Professor followed me out to the studio. Pollack
considered coming along then changed her mind and returned to snoozing on the
couch. Once in front the easel, I let loose.

I sketched Lark smiling. Painted Lark laughing.
Grabbed charcoal and drew her sleeping. My muse inspired me to create one image
of her after another. Eventually, I sketched her expression when she had an
orgasm.

Hands covered in paint and charcoal, I sat down and
stared at the pictures I’d created. As Lark looked back at me from all of my
creations, I accepted what I had been hiding from all morning.

I was in love with Lark.

The fantasy of her had transformed into the reality
of loving her. She was everything I hoped for all those nights when I wished to
know her. Now, I knew her and she was better than the fantasy.

Lark knew how to make me feel like a man, strong
and protective. She also understood how to keep my head from lodging up my
arrogant ass. Her teasing made me laugh and kept me in line. She was a tiny fighter
and I wanted her to smile at me always.

While I never loved Kristen, I also managed to see
qualities in her that she never possessed. I had created an image in my head
detached from the reality of who she was. As I wiped my hands on a towel, I
wondered if I was making the same mistake with Lark. Could she really be as
perfect in my mind as she seemed?

Cooper said Farah’s flaws were perfect. Everything
about her made him crazy and Lark was the same way. Was she my girl or a
fiction I created? I was more than a little pissed how Cooper found his woman
before I did. He didn’t need a muse. He never longed for that special girl.
However, he found her and was living a happy life.

I wanted the same. There was no denying this fact.
I just didn’t know if I craved the dream so much I’d created a lie in Lark. Was
she also embracing a lie to get away from the crap of her family? Were we fools
to believe we belonged together? Fate fought to keep us apart, yet I couldn’t
let her go.

The door to the studio opened and Lark poked in her
head. I hadn’t realized so much time had passed and I shouldn’t have left her
to wake alone. She looked a little nervous then her gaze fell on all of my
artwork of her. On the walls, leaning in corners, one sketch after another, the
work made me look like a frigging stalker.

Lark’s expression wasn’t difficult to read. Even
with the fake smile on her face, her eyes were horrified.

“I paint what I’m into,” I said, trying to seem
casual. “You should see the number of paintings I made when I was really into
meatball subs.”

“This is how you see me?” she asked, staring at the
most recent works, some still wet. “They don’t look anything like me.”

Lark reached out to touch the blissful expression I
drew of her. I wasn’t sure what she was saying. Did she hate the paintings? Did
she think I was a creep? Was I not seeing the real her?

“What’s wrong with them?” I asked, sounding like a
hurt child rather than a twenty two year old man who spent the night claiming
this very woman who now stared at me in shock.

Lark glanced at me then back at the sketch.
“They’re all so beautiful. I don’t look like that though. You made me seem
better. I mean, that’s good, but I’m surprised is all.”

The worry eased away and my shoulders relaxed.
Smiling down at her, I caressed the bridge of her nose.

“You have freckles.”

“Sorry. I didn’t put on any makeup. I just saw you
were gone and went looking.”

“I like them. The first girl I ever had a crush on
had freckles. Now, the only girl I want to ever have a crush on again has them.
I’d say I got lucky.”

Lark gave me a genuine smile. She looked at the
sketch then her gaze rolled over my chest before returning to my face.

“I can’t believe you can create such beauty.”

“I can’t believe I’m finally looking at my beauty.
You can’t see it, Lark. I know you can’t. Maybe it’s a girl thing or your
shitty family or you do see it and are just fishing for compliments, but you
are too beautiful to get right on paper. No matter how much I try,” I said,
cupping her face, “I can’t make my art look nearly as perfect as you.”

“Shit,” she whispered. “Did you just think that up
because it was fucking brilliant?”

Before I could answer, little Lark stepped up as
far as she could on her tippy toes, pulled me down to her, and kissed me hard
and deep. The girl claimed my breath like she’d already claimed my heart. No
way was I imagining all of her wonderful qualities. I wasn’t that damn creative.

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