Worship: On My Knees Duet, Book 1 by James Ella

Author:James, Ella
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barkley's Books
Published: 2019-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

Six

Luke

For a few forevers, I’m there on my knees—my eyes squeezed shut, my body pulsing like a star. Blood booms in my head as my chest pumps and my heart gallops.

This…this…this. It beats through me like a chant, this epiphany that isn’t new. This is what I need to live life. Even as I staunch the flood of my emotions, I can feel it burdening the levy. I’m caught somewhere aching for a too-long moment…but I work my way out.

When at last I lift my eyes open, I see that Vance is lying face-down, one hand over his head. I stretch out beside him…wrap an arm over his hard, sweat-damp back. When he doesn’t move, I lean back on my elbow, cup my hand around the back of his head. It’s warm—sweaty. His big body radiates heat.

For a heady second I just drink him in. This man. I was with him.

I lower my cheek to his shoulder, brush my mouth over his damp skin. The motion gives him chills. Something in my belly tightens.

“You okay?” It sounds rough.

He shifts onto his side. I get the briefest glimpse of his mouth curving, feel the warm heat of his heavy-lidded gaze. Then he’s wrapping me against him…his arm squeezing so my cheek presses against his damp throat. I can hear his heartbeat, fast and steady.

His arm flexes around my back, and I hear him swallow. “I’m good,” he rumbles. “Are you?”

I nod.

His lips brush over my hair. Then his leg wedges between mine. I feel his chest expand as he takes in a deep breath, blows it out. He chuckles, hoarse. “That was crazy. Felt amazing.” His hand strokes my back, gentle fingers tracing ridges of muscle. “You all good, my man?”

My throat is so tight I can barely breathe. I bite my cheek until it stings, and take a deep, slow breath. “Yeah.”

This is the only time you’ll ever do this. Make it count, Luke.

I inhale again, filling my head with his scent. I kiss his chest…because I can. His fingers stroke my nape. Then his fingertips are rubbing. He knows where to put the pressure. Everywhere he touches screams with pleasure-pain.

Despite myself, I let a groan out.

“Sore there?” Rough whisper.

I swallow. He rubs, and I drag another big breath in.

His voice is soft and gentle as his fingers rub me. “How much are you home, dude?”

“All together…travel like three and a half, four months out of the year.”

“So you’re kind of tired, huh?”

Always. It’s the price of my work. One of them.

“You a pretty peaceful flyer?”

I drag in a deep, unsteady breath as his hand moves down my shoulder. He rubs at a spot that’s tender, so it hurts and feels good. So good, I can’t answer at first. “Not at all,” I manage with a laugh.

I feel his chest move on a silent chuckle. “Well, shit.” He hugs me closer with one arm as his hand keeps rubbing my sore shoulder. He hits a spot that makes me moan.

I can hear his smile as he says, “College acupressure, baby.

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