Scars By James Bay Novels & Stories

Unable to speak, I slowly nodded my head and traced his toned abs which were visible through his black fitted shirt. “Wanna feel them, skin to skin?” His lips curved up and I looked away. Skilfully, he removed his shirt and I almost forgot to breathe when his naked chest came into my view, the Greek God in human flesh was sitting next to me. He had toned abs and scarred skin, it left no to imagination. He had won many battles, ditched death multiple times because who scars looked old. My fingers traced them very delicately. “They remind me of who I am and what is expected from me. My scars are my trophy, they motivate me to learn from the past and reshape my present as I wish.” He said and g

At 3:47 PM, my neck started burning. Not painful at first. Just hot. Feverish. I touched it, and the skin was raised. The scar. My heart hammered. I stood too quickly, chair rolling back. “You okay?” James asked. “Fine. Bathroom.” I walked calmly until the bathroom door closed. Then I ran to the mirror, lifted my hair, and turned. The scar was glowing. Soft, eerie light emanates from the seven carved into my skin. And it was hot. Burning from the inside.

I guess that’s why I have my scar, a reminder of the fact that I’ll never be as strong as I need to be. As strong as I want to be. Maybe I deserve the scar…. I-i know I deserve my scar it’s all my fault. I… I need to search the body. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, collected the supplies and got to my feet, stumbling backwards as my backpack settled on my shoulders.

I smiled at him before walking past him and into the bathroom, stripping and reaching for my suit before shaking as the reality of the situation hit me. I would be next to naked in front of James, my scars on full display. I was comfortable around Ezra because he was also scarred and understood my trauma and discomfort about it all...James was not. Could not understand what I was going through. As empathetic as he was, this was something he could not understand. But I knew he wasn’t someone to judge, he would not make me feel ugly or disfigured. I knew he would stare, anyone would at first, but I was sure he wouldn’t make an issue out of it. I sighed and shook my head of the thoughts and tug

he said to Richard. “ Ah right!... Miss Ann, do you have space in your schedule, I pay quite handsomely, and I could use some time with... KPORR!...” Ann stood wide-eyed as James spat blood, he had a nose bleed, and Ann had a feeling that he may have lost a tooth from Richard's blow. “ If you ever mention her name again, you will lose your head... ” Richard growled, grabbing a writhing James by his throat. “It's a threat...” He hissed before dropping him hard on the floor. Ann almost pitied him, but mind you, it only almost happened.

, I came out of my car and I wasn’t surprised when Scarlett came out wearing a long face. “You bitch!” She said as she walked towards me. “Can we do this later, I got work. Thank you” I said dryly and made to enter my car but she was fast to touch me by my hand. I quickly removed her hand from my body like it was a plague and looked at her angrily. “Never in your life, I repeat, never touch me with that hand you uses to give my dad a hand job” Scarlett looked pretty embarrassed as I said that but she was quick to cover it up with a scoff.

"Sorry, did I scare you? I promise, you'll never see scum like that around here again." To thank him, I accepted his invitation to an art exhibition at his private estate that weekend. On Saturday night, Dorian had a gift box delivered. Inside was a deep purple velvet gown. It was exquisitely tailored, with a high neck and long sleeves that perfectly concealed the old, fading scars on my body, while still accentuating my waist. I stroked the soft fabric, my eyes welling up. Gavin had traced my scars with sadness, but he was never this thoughtful. I never dared tell him how much they bothered me. It was a weakness the Godfather’s wife wasn't allowed to have.

" The only sound left in the room was the steady ticking of the machines. I turned away and carefully put the irises into the vase by Mom's bed. He stood up slowly, quietly. "Remember to put ointment on your knee when you get home. It's scraped." The door closed softly behind him. I thought I heard a muffled sob. However, maybe it was just my imagination. Back home, my daughter gently put ointment on my knee. I patted her head, turned on the computer, and started writing a new post. Title: [About Camila and the Road I Took.] She should have known I would not let it go if she exposed me.

Right after the words left Vanessa's mouth, Scott shoved her hard and snapped, "What nonsense are you talking about?" Caught off guard, Vanessa stumbled backward and scraped her arm against the edge of a cheap table, leaving a bloody gash. I panickedly lunged forward to catch her, but my hands passed straight through her body. I still wasn't used to being dead, even after two years. Jordan burst into loud, terrified wails, but no one came forward to comfort him. Both Scott and Devin were too busy fussing over Nicole.

She asked curiously but something doesn't add up. I mean I have asked him about the scars and he insinuated that it was BDSM gone wrong and honestly I didn't think much of it because that was when we just lost our parents and he was a little rebellious at that point but I still think she got the wrong guy... I mean now I understand why she fled immediately she saw him shirtless but anyone could have a similar scar, right?