by Kensie King
It was part of the reason I’d gotten fired, too, I’d learned. The company was making cutbacks and Mr. Steiner had to let someone go. I was the best choice after what I’d done to Lucas.
I took another sip of my drink, already feeling a healthy buzz. It was warming me from the inside out, and that, at least, made me forget a little of the pain of today.
The anniversary of my mother’s death.
Two years ago, she’d passed away in our small home. Peaceful, but still before her time.
Cancer was a bitch, and for a few weeks, I’d been so angry, I’d hardly cared if I lived either. It wasn’t fair for the world to take someone so special and so vibrant and leave the rest of us behind.
But then I’d remembered all the amazing things we’d talked about and all the things she wanted for me and my life, and I decided to start making them happen. My first step was to move to the city, and a few months later, I was here.
Then I met Lucas, but that was a whole different story.
“You know what?” Elise said. “Fuck it. I’m coming over there. Mr. Steiner can go screw—”
“No. Wait. You can’t lose your job, too,” I told her. “If you want to go back to school, you need to save money, and this is the easiest way to do it right now.”
“But…” She sighed.
I downed the rest of my drink and returned to the kitchen for another. Lucas would be home in an hour or so, and I’d barricade myself in my room then.
Seeing him right now might completely undo me. Not just because I was feeling vulnerable but also because I’d almost lost myself to him on Saturday. I’d gotten so wrapped up in the atmosphere and his words and the kindness in his eyes that I’d forgotten my vow to hate him forever.
It was a huge inconvenience, really, because if I didn’t have a past with Lucas, I’d probably already have fallen for him.
“I’ll order pizza or Chinese and open a bottle of wine.” Or two. “I promise, I’m fine. I’ll mope tonight and then come out of my hole tomorrow.”
“You sure?” she asked.
“Positive.”
I checked the time again as I got off the phone with her. Just enough to order dinner and hide.
But when I turned to grab my phone again to find a number of a delivery place, I heard the ding of the elevator and froze.
Shit. That couldn’t be Lucas, could it? It was too early, and I wasn’t ready to see him. I hadn’t had nearly enough to drink.
And no way in hell I wanted him to see me like this. I was a mess in my sweats and a T-shirt I’d gotten as I souvenir when I’d visited here with my mom several years ago.
Lucas strolled into the apartment, his arms full of bags, and I turned away.
What the hell? Had he gone shopping? I thought he was married to his work.
“Roe?”
The deep timbre of his voice made me shiver. I sniffed and tried to clear my throat, so he wouldn’t hear any leftover emotion. “Hey. You’re home early.”
“I am.”
I heard rustling behind me and went to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. Anything to distract myself.
“That’s great.” I cleared my throat again. “I was just going to take it easy. Hang out in my room or—”
“Roe? Are you okay?”
I glanced over my shoulder and forced a smile. “Sure. Fine. See you.”
I made a good effort, but I didn’t make it to the hallway before Lucas was at my side, concern in his voice.
“Hey,” he said softly. He shifted to stand in front of me. “I know what today is.”
I blinked and met his compassionate eyes. “How?”
“Because of how you were talking about your mom the other night and because I knew you came to live here after your mom died and that was about two years ago. And I called Elise.”
I dropped my chin. Of course she’d told him. But the fact that he’d even cared to ask made me conflicted all over again. I was supposed to be keeping my distance from Lucas, not falling for him again.
“Come here,” he said softly, reaching for me.
I broke. I couldn’t stand against compassion, or a strong pair of arms that I knew, in this moment, would make me feel safe.
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder as a few tears leaked out. When I sniffled, he lifted my chin.
“Oh, baby, don’t…” He wiped my cheeks. “Roe, please—what can I do?”
“It’s fine—”
“It’s not fine and you have every right to be sad.”
“I’m not,” I told him, lifting my chin. His eyebrows. “I mean, yes, I’m sad, but this—” I swiped at my cheek, already embarrassed. “It’s not all sad. It’s—my mom had a great life. I just miss her, and I’m pissed as fuck that she can’t be here.”
His eyes went soft, full on my face, so caring and understanding, I suddenly didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to barricade myself in my room and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. I wanted company.
Lucas’s company.
“I need a drink,” I joked, my cheeks still warm from embarrassment.
“I can help.”
He took my hand and turned me back to the kitchen, where he’d placed several bags. He opened the first one and pulled out two bottles of wine and then a bottle of whiskey, making me laugh.
“In case you need something harder,” he told me with a grin.
“I thought you went to work today, not the liquor store.”
He shrugged, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, when really he was saving my life right now. I needed a distraction and he was giving it to me.
“I went to work earlier and made a few stops on the way home.”
“Early,” I reminded him.
“Of course I left early,” he said simply. “I needed to be here for you.”
The words shot straight to my heart. How had this happened? I thought this was just an arrangement and it would be easy. But now my heart was involved, and I had no idea what to do.
“There’s more,” Lucas said, surprising me.
He opened the next bag and removed boxes of cartons. Chinese food. I was surprised when my stomach grumbled and realized I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
“Or we can order pizza,” Lucas said. “Or eat both.”
When he started pulling items out of the final bag, I stepped forward, my heart in my throat.
“I didn’t know the best ones,” Lucas said apologetically. “I haven’t seen a lot of these.”
He started stacking classic movies on the counter. Everything from Breakfast at Tiffany’s to 12 Angry Men. All of my mom’s favorites, all movies we’d watched together while she was sick in bed.
“Lucas…” I swallowed hard. How did I thank him for this? “I don’t know…”
He turned to face me, hope warring with uncertainty on his face.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you.”
His arms came around me and I breathed him in. Cedar. That’s what he smelled like. A dark forest full of secrets, full of everything I’d yet to explore.
In that moment, I wanted it. All of it. Him. Our mouths touching, bodies pressed against each other.
I lifted my head, my cheek brushing his. Lucas’s hands slid up my back, barely veiled strength in them that I remember driving me mad.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered.
His eyes dropped to my lips. I felt him shift against me, felt the swell of his cock brush my abdomen.
“Me too.”
I ran my hand up his cheek, the short spray of stubble tickling my palm. Just one kiss, that was all I needed. A kiss. A distraction.
I pressed my lips against his, so soft it was like a breath. He exhaled, tension holding his entire body still except for his mouth.
“Roe,” he murmured against my lips.
“Yes?”
He captured both my hands against his chest, holding them there in a gentle grip. �
�I think we should get some food in you first.”
First. Meaning he was still willing to take this next step. But dammit, he was being a gentleman, too, because he could tell I’d already been drinking and I wasn’t completely myself.
“Chinese is good,” I told him, taking a wobbly step back and trying not to regret that he wouldn’t just take me right there.
That I couldn’t lose myself in pleasure instead of pain.
Lucas lifted one of my hands to kiss it, making me melt. “Dinner, then. And you can pick a movie.”
I did what he suggested, sorting through the movies while he got dishes from the cupboard and poured us both generous glasses of wine.
He moved like a gazelle, swift, almost like a dance. I’d seen the predator side of him, though, and my body ached to see it again.
It was the rum. And the wine I was already sipping. I had to remind myself of that. It was just because I was vulnerable and needed a shoulder.
Otherwise, I’d stay far from Lucas because this—the night, the wine, the picnic he’d made for me the other night—was just a ruse. Part of our fake arrangement so it could look more real.
We sat companionably on the couch with our plates in our laps and Singin’ in the Rain on the wide screen, the expanse of stars outside the window as our backdrop.
“I remember this one,” Lucas said as Gene Kelly tap danced on screen.
“It was one of my mom’s favorites.” She’d shown it to me on my tenth birthday, but we’d seen it dozens of times after that. “We’d make spaghetti or popcorn and eat and wish that all of life’s troubles could be cured with a quick song and dance.”
Lucas glanced over. “If only life was that easy.”
I drank more wine. “If only.”
Lucas nudged my plate. “Please eat.”
I gave him a daring smile. “Or what?”
He laughed. “You really want to find out?”
I sort of did. I sort of liked the idea of Lucas taking over completely, of seeing that wild spark in him I knew still had to be there.
It had shown up that first night in the B&B. I understood why—I was feeling the same way. We’d had chemistry the night before, but we’d kept our hands off of each other for the most part. But after a drive down the coast, after talking and laughing together, after all the sexual tension, neither of us had been able to stop ourselves the moment we were in the room.
That night, I’d had very little to drink and I remembered every detail, down to the tiny scar on his thigh from where he’d gotten stitches when he was younger.
My throat dried at the memory, and my cheeks heated at the image I had of him in my head, one of my lying naked on that King-sized bed, his thighs strong and muscular, just a light sprinkle of hair on his legs. His toned abdomen and chest, smooth to the touch. The trickle of hair down to his cock, which curved high and proud, waiting for me.
I downed the rest of my wine, moistening my throat.
“Everything okay?” Lucas asked, eyeing my face, then my glass. “More wine?”
“Yes, please.”
It was working its magic. In fact, this whole night felt magical. Classic movie on the screen, wine that probably cost more than I used to make at the coffee shop in a day, and a sexy man who’d given me exactly what I needed tonight without even knowing it.
When my glass was full again and I’d eaten most of the food on my plate, I shifted to face Lucas, feeling bold.
“You remember that place we ate at by the B&B?”
His eyes locked on mine. “Yes,” he said, cautiously.
“I still want to make that flatbread. It was delicious.”
“You cook?”
I laughed. “I could if I could make that flatbread.”
He grinned, relaxing a little. He set his plate aside. “We could probably find a place in the city that makes something just as good.”
“But it wouldn’t have the same memory.”
His lips moved in a trace of a smile. “That’s true. That is a good memory.”
“I might just have to drive down there again sometime. See for myself just what they put on it.”
He nodded. “Or you could call. Get their secret.”
“You think they’d just give it to me?”
“Some people are more open than you expect.”
I smiled at him. “True. But not you. I haven’t figured out all your secrets yet.”
“No secrets. I’m an open book.”
“I don’t think so.” I reached out to run my fingers on the back of his hand. “I think there is a lot you’re not telling me.”
“Like what?”
I considered this. I had so many questions. But mostly they were just about how he really felt about me. And why he’d walked out.
But that would definitely ruin the night and I didn’t want any kind of seriousness right now. In fact, I kind of wanted to throw caution to the wind and take whatever Lucas was willing to give.
“Secrets,” I repeated. “Why you are the way you are.”
I moved over, my thigh brushing his. His gaze dropped to my leg and then came back up.
“Careful,” he said.
I couldn’t tell what kind of warning it was, only that the deepness of his voice thrilled me.
“I don’t want to be careful,” I told him.
I stood and then straddled his lap, wine glass still in hand, and my mind blocking every shred of reasoning I had right now.
Lucas exhaled, his arms coming around me automatically to help hold me steady.
I could feel the warmth of his skin through his slacks. He’d taken off his jacket and tie, and dark hair peeked out from above a few buttons on his shirt.
My stomach swirled with anticipation. I could undo those buttons right now. I could have my mouth on him in seconds.
Lucas’s breathing had picked up. His eyes were dilated, fathomless depths that stared at me with question and wonder and something else I couldn’t read.
“Roe,” he said quietly.
I sipped more wine. “I’m here.”
His lips moved slightly in a smile. “What about the movie?”
“I’ve seen it before.”
“You don’t want to watch it?”
I shifted on his lap, my cock swelling in my sweats. I could feel the way it affected him, see him holding back a groan that wanted to escape.
He closed his eyes briefly. “If you don’t want to watch the movie, then what do you want?”
I bit my lip and then smiled. “You.”
15
____________________
LUCAS
That one word sent need catapulting through my body, touching every single nerve ending I had and making me come alive. It was already hard enough because he was on my lap, his body practically mine for the taking, and it was clear he was turned on and ready to go.
It wouldn’t take much to have him on his back on the couch in moments, or his naked body bent over the arm so I could press myself against his ass.
But he’d been drinking. He was vulnerable. And no matter how much my body was responding to him right now, there was that voice in that back of my head that told me not to take it too far.
I didn’t want him regretting this in the morning. In addition to that, I wanted him to want this of his own free will. And I wanted him to remember it the next day, what we shared and how badly he wanted more of it.
I could tell Roe was hurting. This didn’t seem like him to be so forward, and I figured it had almost everything to do with how much he drank.
He did seem like he wanted more before, though, my brain told me. When we’d been on the rooftop, we had shared a moment and it felt like he’d wanted me just as much as I wanted him. He kissed me back when I’d kissed him.
But that didn’t mean sleeping with him right now was the answer.
I took ahold of Roe’s wine glass and set it beside me on the end table. He seemed to think this was a gesture of acceptance on my part be
cause his eyes lit with desire and he set his hands on my shoulders.
“See,” he said with a smile. “You don’t want to watch the movie either.”
“No, I don’t,” I told him honestly. I wanted to get him tucked into bed so he could sleep it off and hopefully wake up without a massive hangover.
He leaned in, his breath touching my lips. He smelled like wine and the distinct Roe smell that I always breathed in deeply whenever I was close enough to do so.
It would be so easy right now to give into that and forget about everything else. I had what I wanted right in front of me, and Roe wanted it too.
He feathered his fingers through the back of my hair, making me groan.
“Roe,” I murmured.
His lips curved against mine. “I’m better now. I promise.”
“I believe it. But—”
His mouth covered mine, demanding and possessive. My cock shot to attention, throbbing against the material of my pants and begging to be set free. His hands slid down my chest, brushing the buttons he clearly wanted to undo.
I tried again. “Roe.”
“I like how you say my name. Demanding. Just like a lawyer.”
Fuck. I couldn’t let him keep talking to me like that. If he liked how I said his name, I loved how he was speaking to me right now. Blunt. Straightforward. Telling me exactly what he liked.
I’d remember that for later. When he was ready, when he wasn’t drunk, I’d give him everything and more.
“I think…” I leaned my head back when his fingers ran over my nipples through my shirt. “It’s getting late.”
He laughed, low and husky. I felt precum leak into my underwear. “You’re funny. It’s not even nine yet.”
“And you’ve had a long day.”
His eyes searched mine, looking cloudy and confused. “Not really.”
I touched his cheek. It took every ounce of willpower I had in my body to keep my hands where they were instead of pulling him closer so he could grind against my erection.
“Sweetheart,” I said softly. “I hate to do this, but I think you should get to bed.”
A frown tugged at the corners of his lips. “Me?”
He didn’t have to say what he was thinking, that he wondered why I hadn’t said “we.” Why I wasn’t reciprocating his affection.
