“I may seem crazy and I’m tired of feeling so numb. I’m alone and cold here in my mind, and I
don’t know how to heal myself…until her”
Touching
Scars
Amazon Bestselling Author
Stacy Borel
Coming December 2013
~Excerpt~
Speaking of close up, he moved ever nearer to me and I directed my gaze from his full lips that were surrounded with dark scruff, to his eyes. Those blue eyes that I could get lost in, they wrinkled slightly at the corners and I realized that he was grinning at me.
As he approached me he said, “Get a good look? I can do a twirl if you’d like me too.”
I’d been caught. Fine. If he wanted to act like an arrogant ass, I’d play too. Slowly moving through the water I got up close to him. The water was hitting me around my belly button, while it was only hip level for him. Reaching up I touched the tattoo around his collar bone. He was holding completely still, allowing my perusal. I wasn’t sure if I shocked him because I was touching him, or if he was pacifying me. Trailing my fingers from one side of his broad chest to the other, I reach his right shoulder. Adding a couple more fingers to the mix, I slowly allowed them to slink down to his elbow. My fingertips were on fire just from touching his beautifully marked skin. Placing my hand under the bend of his arm, I lifted it so the artwork that marred him was almost eye level to me. I had started this quest initially to attempt to make him as uncomfortable as he made me. I wanted to see him squirm. Instead, I found myself genuinely intrigued by the bright colors, the meanings behind the designs, and why he decided to brand his body. Having tattoos myself, I knew they meant something. Inspecting every little inch that there was ink I saw an octopus, flowers, a demon, and a koi fish similar to my own. I was about to put his arm up to make him twirl and make a smart ass comment, since I had only made myself uncomfortable, but something caught my eye. Hidden in the depths of the color were small raised marks. No, not just marks, they were scars. My eyes shifted to his, silently asking where they came from.
Timber cleared his throat and pulled his arm out of my grasp. “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Not sure of what to make of his change in subject, I let him have this one. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to talk about it. I knew that if I pushed and him questions, it would only open it up for him to ask me questions that I’d never answer.
Turning my body so that I was faced away from him I said, “Yeah, it’s perfect.”
About the Author
Stacy Borel
Genre Romance
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