16. Luke
16
Luke
Greer : Good morning. Hope you have a great day 3
Me : Thx, sweetheart. How did you sleep?
Greer : Slept pretty okay.
Me : Just okay?
Greer : Better now that I’m talking to you.
Me : Good. Sorry work has been crazy.
Greer : Yeah, you have been gone a lot.
Me : I know. Between the teen academy and shift, it’s a lot.
Greer : I miss you. Did you know that?
Me : Trust me, I miss you too. You’re mine for the Fourth.
Greer : Just for the Fourth?
Me : I’d tell you that you’ll be mine for always, but I’m not trying to jump the gun here.
Greer : **blushing emoji** Normally, I just go to my parents for the Fourth, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.
Me : Perfect. We’ve all got the day off, so we’re
going to the lake.
Greer : Are you inviting me on an infamous lake outing?
Me : Not inviting. More like telling.
Greer : Bossy.
Me : Only for what I want.
Greer : Do you want to come over for dinner after work?
Me : Count me in. Just getting to the auditorium.
Me : I’ll text you later.
It’s been a great week working with local teens. We’ve done a lot of work educating them on the pros and cons of both professions as well as allowing them to practice many of the skills. Typically, I like busy weeks like this, but knowing Greer is waiting for me has been almost unbearable.
Grabbing my coffee and backpack, I push thoughts of Greer to the side and head across the parking lot. Adam is focused on his phone, most likely texting his wife. We’ve known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until he and Vinnie joined the department that they became some of my best friends. When Adam married Grace, his high school sweetheart, it was the first time in my life I experienced true jealousy. Adam and Grace have what I’ve always wanted and searched for. Something I’m starting to picture with Greer.
“Hey, Cap,” Adam says. “Ready for our last day?” He’s already wiping sweat from his brow, so I know this is going to be a tough day.
“Yeah, let’s go. I’m ready to be home for a few days.”
“It gets easier.”
“What does?” I question, holding the door open for him.
“Being away from the woman you love.”
“I don’t—”
“Sure you don’t,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. He passes through the door and disappears into the auditorium, leaving me staring blankly at the door.
By the time I pull into my driveway later that day, the setting sun is casting long shadows over the neighborhood. Greer’s house is lit up from the inside. My chest tightens as excitement flows through my body. I love our text threads, but I’m ready to see those eyes, her smile, and that body in person. Throwing my truck in park, I head inside for a quick shower. I know she’s waiting for me, but after the heat of today, a shower is in order.
Me : Just got home. Going to shower and be over.
Greer : See you soon. :)
The house is dark except for a subtle glow from my kitchen. As I take off my clothes, my eyes wander across the yard and through her bedroom window, wishing she’d be there. I shuck off my clothes and toss them into the hamper. Then I hop into the shower, the temperate water battling to cool my rising body temperature.
I let the water cascade over my body, allowing my muscles and mind to slowly unwind. My hand slides over my chest and down my stomach, the temptation to relieve tension overwhelming. I’m not expecting anything, seeing her tonight, but I wonder if I should prepare so I don’t embarrass the hell out of myself.
We haven’t seen each other since our date, but the sight of her body, wet and covered in soap, plays on a constant loop. She was completely at ease and so beautiful touching herself, never taking her eyes off me. Her hungry expression made me feel powerful and wanted. I had to resist taking her then.
She’s mentioned before that she’s only ever been with Brian, so it’s not lost on me what an incredible gift that experience was—for her and me. Knowing she felt safe and trusted me enough to lose herself to the inferno between us. To allow me the opportunity to have these new firsts with her. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I’ve spent my whole life searching for this feeling, searching for Greer. I’m never letting go.
She told me she sensed I was holding back, and my denial was ready and waiting, but I know she’s right. I have been holding back. The last thing I want to do is rush her or hurt her. No more holding back though. I’m no longer capable. Only with you. Those three little words sealed my fate. Greer wants this with me. How am I to deny her—deny myself—the opportunity to try? She’s confident in speaking what she wants and needs. I know we’ll figure it out together.
In a few heartbeats, I’m standing at her door, nerves and anticipation storm inside me. The aroma of rich Italian spices assaults my senses, making my mouth water even before I slide open the back door. My stomach growls in response. Usually, on weeks like this, I forgo home-cooked meals and settle for something quick on the way home.
I tap on the glass, and Greer’s face turns to me, motioning to come in. Duke’s there as I open the door, nudging me with his cold nose before trudging back to his bed in the living room. The familiar warmth of her home surrounds me. I step into the kitchen and am pleasantly surprised by the new additions to her home—some pictures now fill once empty frames, soft music plays from her TV, and a worn copy of Lord of the Rings sits on the counter. My stomach tightens at the sight. Knowing she’s reading a book simply because I said it was my favorite sets my soul on fire.
“Hey, you.” She turns from where she’s standing at the stove and offers me that sweet smile of hers. She steals my breath away with her hair knotted in a messy bun, a few tendrils framing her face, her bare feet sadly covered by fuzzy socks, and an oversized sweater stopping mid-thigh. I’m tempted to skip dinner and explore what she has on underneath.
“God, I’m so glad to see you.” My steps eagerly cover the distance between us. I slide my hands around her waist as she turns into me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Me too.” She softly kisses my neck.
“God,” I groan, running my nose up the side of hers. “You always smell so damn good.” Placing a kiss just below the corner of her jaw, she stutters an exhale. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”
“What is?” she asks.
“This spot”—I kiss her again—“right here.” She tightens her arms around me, pressing her hips into mine. “You like that?”
“Mm-hmm.” She moans, nodding into my shoulder.
My lips continue their exploration, placing gentle pecks along her jaw. She leans her head back, allowing me better access, never once letting go of me. My tongue sneaks out, licking at the skin beneath her chin before my lips close and suck.
“Oh god,” she whispers. “My face . . .”
“What about your face?” I ask between kisses.
“I-I can’t feel it.”
“Do”— kiss —“you”— kiss —“want me”— kiss —“to stop?” She shakes her head back and forth. “Use your words, Greer,” I whisper against the shell of her ear.
“Don’t stop,” she replies with a breathlessness to her words. I pull back to fully take her in. She’s a flushed rose, chest heaving. Sliding my hands up, I cup her face and rest my thumbs near the corner of her mouth.
“Can I kiss you?”
Her blue eyes darken, like the ocean before a storm. They shimmer with desire, pulling me in. Her tongue peeks out and wets her lips. My eyes track the delicate movement. But she remains silent.
“Greer?” My voice is low as I bring my face closer to hers, leaving mere centimeters between us. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation for our unspoken desires lingering in the air.
Suddenly, she leans in and crashes her lips into mine.
My world tilts on its axis.
We remain like that, locked lip-to-lip, as our hearts beat wildly in sync and our bodies melt into each other.
A quiet moan escapes her, and my patience snaps. I press into her, capturing her lips fully between mine. They’re soft and supple, with a subtle sugary taste. Lightning shoots down my spine. My hands are rough as they move down her body, gripping her hips and pulling her into me. There’s no hiding how my body responds to this gorgeous woman.
Greer angles her head and traces my lips with her tongue. I meet it with my own. Soon, we’re nothing but hands and quick breaths and moans as we lose ourselves to this kiss. To each other. She thrusts her hips into me again, my rigid cock pressing into her low stomach. I’d love nothing more than to lay her out over the counter behind me and feast on her for supper.
Slowing our kiss, I move my hands up her waist and coast them over the sides of her breasts before gripping around her neck. Her exhaling sigh is music to my ears. My thumbs trace her rosy cheeks. The room fills with the heady scent of desire. Time stands still.
“Wow.” Her eyes remain closed as she leans her forehead against my lips.
“Wow is right.” I place another kiss on her forehead. “Dinner smells great.”
“The sauce!” she yells. She spins out of my arms and quickly steps over to stir a pot on the stove.
Leaning my head over her shoulder, I peek at what she has going on the stove. One pot holds a simmering spaghetti sauce, and another is filled with noodles. When I kiss the soft curvature of her neck, her whole body shivers.
“Interesting,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah, mister. I’m sure you could kiss my entire body, and it would react that way.”
“You think so?” I lean back against the kitchen island.
She looks over her shoulder, continuing to stir, that damn lip of hers sinking between her teeth. “Yes.” She’s calm and confident in her response, and the beast inside of me wants to be set free. To take her as mine.
“How was your day?” I pour a small amount of whiskey into two tumblers and hand her a glass.
“Oh, it was fine. Just worked on some stuff for my classroom, and I cooked”—she pans her arm around the kitchen—“a lot.”
Now I notice what a mess her kitchen is. Every surface has a dirty bowl or utensil or various types of food waiting to be stored. I’m pretty sure I spy a pasta maker.
“Did you do all this for me?” Smiling is effortless when I’m around her.
She grins before taking a sip. “Would that be weird?”
“No, G, that wouldn’t be weird at all.” With measured steps, I approach, wanting to capture that luscious mouth of hers. One kiss wasn’t enough. I want all of them.
“Uh-uh, you. Sit.” She points from me to her dining table. “Dinner’s almost ready, and I know you’re hungry.”
“Starved, actually,” I say but follow her stern orders and sit at the table.
“Well, I know that, but you can have me as dessert.” There’s a catch in her voice at her brazen admission. Silence descends upon the room. I push away from the table, crossing one leg over the other.
“Greer?”
“Yeah?” Her voice is soft as she plates our meal.
It dawns on me that maybe she’s a bit more than embarrassed by what she blurted out. “No timeline, remember?”
Her shoulders visibly relax as she brings our plates to the table and takes a seat. The food looks and smells delicious. She mentioned loving to cook and bake, but I had no idea she could do all this. There’s a slight tremble to her hands as she hands me a napkin that I place over my knee, and her breaths quicken. Before she can escape, I take her hand in mine.
“Breathe, Greer.” It’s getting easier to read her body and know when her anxiety is starting to take over. She follows my direction, taking a slow inhale and an even slower exhale. Greer told me she’s always had trouble with anxiety, but it’s been exacerbated since the accident, something I know she’s worked with her therapist to navigate.
“No timeline,” she repeats.
I nod my head, then dig into the food, contemplating everything that’s happened in the last few moments. Her demeanor has shifted noticeably since her comment. I know I said I wouldn’t hold back anymore, but I’m also determined to allow Greer to move at her own pace. Just because I might be ready for more doesn’t mean she is.
“Want to tell me what happened?” I ask.
She looks at me from the corner of her eye, but says nothing, just continues to eat. Mom and Sutton are more forthcoming with their emotions and thoughts. Almost too much. Normally, Greer is the same way, rambling away and letting me know every thought. Dread snakes its way into my mind at her sudden silence.
“Do you regret it?” I ask.
“What? No!” she says. “No, it’s not that at all.”
“Then, what is it? Talk to me.”
“That was our first kiss.”
“It was. I’m sorry if it was too soon.”
“Luke, it wasn’t too soon. I-I wanted it. It was . . .” I reach across the table and rest my hand on her forearm, giving her a steadying presence as she processes whatever thoughts are running through her mind. She covers my hand with hers. “It was perfect.”
My heart soars. As first kisses go, this one was pure magic.
“But,” I prompt, knowing that’s not all.
“It’s just . . . about what I said after. Everything with you feels so right and natural that I almost forget.” As she looks down at her plate, I’m unsure if shame or shyness is pouring from her.
“Forget Brian?”
“Yes. What I said to you? About a-about . . .” Her chest rises with a deep breath as her eyes meet mine with unshed tears.
“Having you for dessert? Yes, I recall.” I smirk, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yes, about me for dessert. As soon as it flew out of my mouth, I remembered the time I said the same thing to Brian.”
“I see.” My heart constricts. I knew this was something we might have to tackle— her experiencing moments that feel similar to ones she experienced with him—but I secretly hoped we never would.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“Why?” I push my chair closer to hers and place my arm along the back of her chair. “You have a long history with Brian. A happy one.”
“I know,” she whispers.
“Unlike many of us with past relationships who'd rather forget every moment we spent with them, you’ll probably never want to forget all the special moments you had with Brian.”
“God, when you say it like that, I feel horrible.”
“Why feel horrible? It’s the truth. And I never want you to forget your life with Brian. But I do wonder . . .”
“Wonder what?” She buries her face in her hands.
I raise her eyes to mine. “Do you have room in your head and heart for new experiences with me? Maybe some that feel similar to ones you’ve already had but are now with someone new? Because I can’t promise I won’t say or do something that Brian did, or that you might not say or do something you did with him. It just is what it is.”
Her forehead smooths as she contemplates what I’ve said. The warmth of her home cocoons us. With steady hands, I frame her face, confusion swimming in her beautiful eyes.
“I know I have room,” she says at last, her voice resolute.
“Yeah?”
“I guess it’s just something I didn’t consider, you know? Sure, moving forward with my life is one thing, but the memories of Brian will never leave. And as much as I think I can control when those decide to pop into my mind, I can’t. It makes me feel so guilty.”
“Guilty?” I lean back. “Why do you feel guilty?”
“Because I don’t want you worrying that every time I’m with you I’m thinking of him.”
Greer once told me she hated small talk and that she’d rather get to the heart of things instead of sitting in it and stewing. She’s so unlike any woman I’ve ever been with; none of them could have an open and honest conversation to save their life.
“Sweetheart, I don’t expect you to bury down everything you experienced with Brian. Right now, yeah, sometimes I do think about whether you think of him or me. He was your last, and I’m your next. We’re in uncharted waters.”
“I wasn’t thinking of him.” Her hands cover mine.
“No?” The memory of her closing the distance, sealing her lips with mine flashes in my mind.
She shakes her head from side to side. “It was just us, and, god, when our lips met, it felt like I was floating among the stars. It felt almost like my lips already knew yours. Which is crazy because it was our first—”
I lean forward and seal my mouth over hers. Little did I know, those were the exact words my heart needed to hear. Her hands slip from atop mine and settle alongside my jaw. Angling my head, I coax her mouth open, her tongue gently brushing mine before I capture it wholly.
I pull her closer, my hands slipping under her sweater to caress the warm, silken skin of her lower back. Goosebumps rise beneath my touch, and she deliberately rocks her hips, drawing a ragged breath from me. Our mouths stay locked, tasting, devouring—lost in the intoxicating pull of each other.
“Oh.” She groans. Every time she grinds against me, the line between control and surrender blurs.
I pull her closer, my hands slipping under her sweater to caress the warm, silken skin of her lower back. Goosebumps rise beneath my touch, and she rocks her hips with a deliberate rhythm, drawing a ragged breath from me. Our mouths stay locked, tasting, devouring—lost in the intoxicating pull of each other.
“Greer?” I breathe into her neck, kissing along her jaw, biting at the skin at the curve of her neck.
She huffs a breath. “Yes?” Her hands slide into my hair and tug the strands.
She lowers her mouth to mine once again, plunging her tongue into my eager mouth. When she rocks her hips over me, I groan, straining against my joggers and struggling like hell to keep my composure.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“So do you.” She’s breathless.
I pull her to me, grip her thighs, stand, and carry her to the couch. I settle into it as Greer adjusts her legs, resting them on either side of my hips.
“Is this okay?” I ask.
She nods with flushed cheeks and molten eyes. The bun atop her head wobbles as I run my hands up the back of her head. I reach up and pull the band out. Gorgeous locks of sandy-blonde hair tumble down her back.
“Words, G. I need your words.”
“I’m better than okay.”
I cover her mouth with my own. She sucks my lower lip between her teeth, and my hips rise up from the couch. Our bodies meld to one another. I’m greedy with my movements as I knead and grab her thick thighs before sliding under her sweatshirt. Her warm skin begs for my touch. I pull her into me.
“Oh, god.” She moans against my neck, continuing to rock her hips over me. She licks my skin and kisses me. I surrender control as she covers my neck with closed-mouth kisses before capturing my earlobe between her teeth.
“Shit,” I hiss as my hands crawl up the soft expanse of her back. Desire buzzes within me.
“Can you . . .” She rocks into me, capturing my mouth again.
“Can I, what?” I groan.
“Take it off.”
My core ignites as I process what she’s said. Sitting back, I pull her face to mine, forcing her to focus on me.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You.”
My fingers trace along her skin, trembling slightly as I grasp the hem of her sweater. Desire overwhelms me as I lift it. Inch by glorious inch, her skin is revealed. Greer's arms rise, unhurried, her trust in me evident. When the sweater finally falls away, and her bare breasts are revealed, the primal animal inside me roars, as though every part of me recognizes her as mine.
“Fuck me. You are extraordinary.”
Greer doesn’t rush to cover herself. She sits there, weight fully pressed into me, and allows me to take her in. Her breasts are heavy with gorgeous blush-colored nipples, peaked with need. Her waist nips in at the sides, but it’s her soft lower tummy that has me going feral. Without thought, my hand traces the scars on the left side of her abdomen. Our eyes connect. She covers my hand with hers. I’d give anything to go back in time and take away the pain she endured, but I know it’s that pain that formed the resilient and powerful woman currently bringing me to my knees. I've never seen someone as extraordinary as her.
“I need you,” I say. “Can I?” I lean closer to her chest, already imagining how soft and luscious her breasts will feel.
She nods her head, the subtle motion drawing my eyes to the gentle rise and fall of her chest, each breath a silent invitation that sets my blood on fire.
“Sweetheart, you know what I need.”
“I need you too.” She kisses my mouth.
Slowly, I slide my hands over her skin and up her ribs, grazing the lower curve of her breasts. Covering them with a firm grip, my fingers brush over her nipples. She groans at the contact and rocks into me. I repeat the motion before leaning forward to capture one in my mouth. I flick my tongue against her hardened bud, tugging gently.
“Oh, god.” She breathes out.
“Does that feel good?” I switch to capture her other nipple.
She moans in response. Another sound I love to hear from this woman. Her skin warms as I kiss between her breasts. I cover her luscious mouth with mine. She presses her pussy farther down onto my cock and whimpers. My briefs are already damp from pre-come. This woman is making it extremely hard not to take exactly what I want. I can't help but wonder if maybe it's what she needs?
Greer continues grinding against me as my hands move around to caress the expanse of her back. She presses her breasts against my chest, and I feel her stomach tremble, her motions becoming more erratic.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I encourage between kisses. “Ride me. Take what you need.”
“I-I . . .”
“You what?”
“Numb. Everything is numb.”
“Is your pussy numb?”
“N-no.” Every inch of her flushes.
“Good, then let go. Let me see you come.”
Her hips slow down, but I grip them firmly and press myself into her center.
“Feel that?” She nods. “This is what you do to me. Don’t think, G, just feel. Just be here. With me.”
She answers with a body roll that makes my blood boil. It’s easy to feel the heat from her center through our few thin layers of clothes. I’m not sure what I want more, to touch her there or watch her ride me and take what she needs from me.
She rolls into me, pushing her breasts toward my face. I smile and take them in my hands again—squeezing, licking, biting, and sucking each nipple. Greer’s rhythm increases as does her pressure. Every time she brushes against me, I feel my control completely disappearing.
“Fuck, baby. You’re going to make me come.” I groan against her chest. I’m losing it.
“Please.” She sighs. “Come with me.”
We’re nothing but hands, moans, kisses, licks, and bites as she rides me. My mind is blissfully clear. The only thing I see, hear, or think of is Greer, this beautiful woman finding contentment and pleasure in me.
No longer in control of my own body, my orgasm roars down my spine, my limbs tingling as I try to hold on. My woman always comes before me, but I'm barely hanging on.
Greer places one hand on my shoulder as she takes the other to caress her body from thigh to stomach to breasts. She pinches her nipple, moaning at her own rough touch. That’s what does me in. What little control I have evaporates, and my orgasm tumbles through me. My cock jerks as I blow my load in my pants like a teenage boy.
Greer’s eyes lock with mine and she smiles. Little minx.
“Nipples,” she pants. “Please.”
I lean forward and capture one in my mouth. I suck hard, pulling each peak, giving her the suction and pressure she needs as she rides me. She starts to lift her hips off me, but I grip them and pull her down onto me.
“Come for me.”
A few seconds more, Greer detonates, grinding against me. Her thighs tighten around my hips, her stomach trembling as gasps for breath.
“Oh god,” she moans, her hips slowing their rhythmic rolling before coming to a stop.
“Watching you”—I kiss her softly, savoring this moment I know I'll never forget—“was like witnessing a supernova.”
“Did you . . . ?” She looks away.
She dry humps me to orgasm and now she’s fucking shy? “Did I what?” I raise my eyebrows. “Words, G.” I’m daring her to step into her sexuality.
“Did you come?”
“Sweetheart,”—I laugh—“I never come before a woman, let alone in my pants. But with you? I couldn’t hold back.”
She looks down at the mess I’ve made, and a sly grin takes over her face. “That’s so sexy.”
“Yeah?” Most women don’t like a man who can’t last, and she thinks it’s sexy? What will she think when I have her laid out every which way for hours?
“Yes.” She kisses the side of my mouth. “To know you were just as turned on as I was. That we were experiencing the same thing.”
“I was lost to you.” She relaxes, her body heavy, and cuddles into my chest. I trailTrail my fingers up and down her back until her breathing evens out. “Granted, I don’t plan on making coming in my pants or before you a regular thing.”
Several minutes pass before she stands in front of me, her sweatshirt discarded on the floor. With a dreamy look on her face, she runs her hands up her waist and squeezes her breasts. Her nipples are still hard, and I do my best to quell the hunger for more roiling inside me.
“Well,”—she begins, reaching for her discarded sweatshirt—“should we clean up dinner now?” She pulls it over her head, mussing her hair even more than my hands did.
“I’d love to, but”—I gesture to my ruined joggers—“I should probably go clean up and change.”
Greer presses her palms to her cheeks, a weak attempt at soothing the permanent blush. “Probably,” she says, biting that damn lip.
“Little minx.” I stand before her and adjust my half-hard cock. Desire is thick in the air as she walks me to the back door.
“Thank you,” I say as she slides the door open.
“For what?”
“For giving me these firsts.”
I kiss the corner of her mouth.
A brief moment passes before she says, “Good night, Luke.”
Her lazy, satiated smile is the last thing I see before she lets the curtains drop into place.