Lucas by Leigh Loveday
Author:Leigh Loveday [Loveday, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-03T16:00:00+00:00
Wren
The butterflies that have been flitting around in my tummy all night every time Lucas looks at me suddenly take flight and flutter behind my sternum when he suggests strip 8-ball.
I stare at him, my core suddenly thrumming, nipples pebbled under my kimono, and bite my bottom lip. Iâve noticed him noticing when I do that, and tonight is no exception. I can feel the blush rising up my neck and painting its presence on my cheeks.
I canât pretend anymore that thereâs nothing between us. After he came to my rescue that first night, I barely stopped thinking about him until he showed up the next morning in his Porsche. And now, thanks to him, my days are spent in the most idyllic little cottage, and the moments when Iâm not actively writing are spent gazing out of the window, wondering where he is, what time heâll be home, if heâll look up at my window and wave.
Despite the fact that heâs gone out of his way to come and check on me whenever Iâve seen him in passing, and the fact that Iâm sure heâs occasionally found himself on his porch on purpose when Iâm near the window, and the way heâs looking at me with hunger in his eyes, I still find it hard to believe. Hard to believe that a handsome, smart, filthy rich man fifteen years older than me could be interested in a curvy girl who hasnât even had a proper job yet. Not that I ever want what most people would call a proper job, but you know what I mean.
I feel nervous energy ripple up my spine and tingle all over the back of my head when I realize what Iâm about to say, but I still donât stop myself.
âOr we could just strip,â I say. My throat is tight so it comes out as a strangled sort of whisper.
Lucas doesnât seem to notice.
He is on my in a heartbeat, his lips crashing into mine as his hand wraps around the beer bottle in mine and pulls it free from my grip.
âI was hoping youâd say that, little bird,â he says, and the way he instantly takes charge is a siren song to some lascivious, primal part of me I never knew existed.
His lips are soft but demanding, and I suddenly understand how itâs possible to âleadâ a dance in a way I never have before. He places his hands under my ass and lifts me so I can perch on the end of the table. My legs automatically open and he moves forward between them, holding the back of my neck and kissing me deeply, his other hand exploring my body as though heâs been waiting for me his whole life.
I can feel his breath hot beside my ear. He slides his hand up my thigh, his thumb running up and down, tantalisingly close to my panties.
âIâll never let you go if we do this,â he whispers. I can hear the strain in his voice, like heâs expending all his effort to restrain himself.
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