Page 45 of Steady Stroke
“I had.” And he hadn’t given it much thought until now.
Emmett nibbled at his bottom lip before saying, “During the fire I got some pretty bad burns. On my legs. One was second-degree. Half of my left calf.”
Lincoln glanced at the jeans-clad legs in question. “You have scars.”
“Some really ugly ones. I don’t like people to see them, not even Aunt Beatrice. I even sleep in pajama pants. I’d probably shower with them on if I could.”
He drew Emmett’s hand up so he could kiss the back of it. “Babe, I’m not afraid of your scars. I don’t care that your legs aren’t perfect. All scars mean is you lived.”
His words only seemed to make Emmett more miserable. “I know I lived. They didn’t.”
Lincoln was fucking this up all over the place, and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Emmett’s guilt over his family’s deaths was rooted too deeply to be unseated by one intenseconversation in the living room. That sort of guilt had to be exorcised a bit at a time, like a cancer that had spread, taking care that they removed it all. And it wouldn’t happen overnight. Or maybe in a few years. But he wanted, more than anything, to help Emmett get to that place one day.
A place of true healing.
“Emmett, let me ask you something. What was the one thing your parents wanted for you and your sister? More than anything else?”
“To live a safe and happy life,” Emmett replied without hesitation.
“To live a safe and happy life. Which means they would’ve wanted you to survive that fire. Dying with them, while protecting you from this guilt now, wouldn’t be what they wanted. You’re alive. You’re safe. You seem somewhat happy, when I’m not dragging you down the painful edges of memory lane.”
Emmett squeezed his hand. “I am happy when I’m with you, even when I get melancholy about my family. I miss them so much.”
“I know. And the loss is still pretty fresh. But you’re here, scars and all, and I am so grateful for you. You have no idea how much you mean to me. How much you’ve helped me want to live again, too.”
“I’m glad.” Emmett lifted his free hand and brushed his thumb across Lincoln’s forehead, the simple touch blazing across his skin. “Your scars are in here.”
“Yes, they are. You don’t see mine any more than I see yours.”
“You haven’t actually seen mine yet.”
“May I? Please?”
Emmett let out a harsh breath, then stood. He worked first his belt, then his fly with jerky motions that Lincolnlonged to ease. Lincoln genuinely did not care about the scars, but Emmett did, and he was about to share something with Lincoln that he didn’t like sharing with his own family. Emmett clutched at his jeans a moment, then let the weight of the belt drag the denim down his thighs. White boxer briefs outlined his erection, but Lincoln didn’t linger on that area. He waited while Emmett shoved the jeans down the rest of the way, then kicked them off.
His entire left calf was an odd shade of purplish fuchsia, the skin raised in areas, but mostly smooth. Part of the knee was the same, and a few tendrils of color snaked up onto his thigh. His right leg was less noticeable—smaller spots of color and raised areas, with more undamaged skin that grew a thin layer of black hair. Similar black hair crept up his inner thighs and disappeared beneath his underwear.
Emmett’s hands clenched and unclenched by his sides, and his attention was somewhere over Lincoln’s head.
Lincoln stood, keenly aware that he was half naked, and cupped Emmett’s cheeks in his palms. Emmett’s dark eyes blinked at him, a sheen of tears threatening to spill. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Emmett asked.
“Trusting me enough to show me your scars. They aren’t ugly, Em, and anyone who thinks they are isn’t worth your time or energy.”
“Why is it that everything you say sounds so rational?”
“It’s my superpower.”
Emmett chuckled, and so many things in his face and body seemed to ease. “Have I mentioned lately how glad I am we met?”
“Not lately. But same here.” Lincoln boldly cupped Emmett’s erection, soaking in the sharp hiss that earned him. “I also believe I requested something.”
“Yes you did.” Emmett tugged his shirt off, and Lincoln did the same, leaving them one article of clothing from being both totally naked together.
Something wiggled unhappily in Lincoln’s gut, but he shut it down fast. Emmett wouldn’t hurt him.
Lincoln dropped to his knees, hooked his thumbs in the waist of Emmett’s underwear, then tugged it down to his ankles. As he suspected, a thick nest of black pubes surrounded Emmett’s uncut cock. Big enough to be a mouthful, with a very pretty head peeking out from its hiding place. He pressed his nose into the crease of Emmett’s thigh and inhaled the spicy, musky scent of him.
