Until Then (The Blue Collar Boys #1)

22. Greer

22

Greer

“ O h god.” I groan, muffling the sound against the pillow. “That feels so good.”

“Harder?” he asks, his voice low, almost teasing.

I peek out from beneath the pillow. "Please."

Lord of the Rings plays idly on the TV in the background, though it's barely a distraction. We've spent almost every day he’s not working together—doing everything and nothing at all. Projects here and there, decorating, time with family and friends, and helping Navy have filled the gaps, but otherwise, I've done a whole lot of nothing.

Luke's thumbs dig into the arch of my foot, pressing on a tender spot. My stomach quivers in pleasure-pain. I’ve spent the last few days on my feet setting up my classroom, so every muscle in my body screams from his skilled hands. Normally, I'm ready to go back to work, but this year it feels bittersweet. I've actually enjoyed having an empty agenda.

“Just like that,” I say. Groaning, I drop the pillow and turn my hungry gaze to Luke. His large frame takes up most of the couch, where he’s reclined in the corner. With one leg propped on the cushion and the other on the coffee table, he tugs at my foot, pulling me closer to him. His hands slide up my calf, fingers dancing over my constellation of scars. On instinct, I pull my foot back.

“None of that,” he warns and pulls my leg back into his lap.

“But they’re so—”

“Beautiful?” he says. There’s a glint in his eyes, daring me to challenge him. Luke sits up and pulls my foot to rest on the center of his chest.

“I guess,” I reply. It’s just one of the physical reminders I’ll have forever from the accident.

“You guess?” He purses his lips.

“I’ve gotten used to them, but I know they probably gross people out.”

“You’ve never told me about them,” he says as his fingers drift over the skin of my legs.

“Do you want to know?” He nods. “Somehow during the accident, I broke my tibia, so that one is from the repair surgery.” Luke’s thumb rubs over the area. “And these”—lifting my shirt, I expose my stomach and the scars scattered there—“are because my spleen ruptured.”

“Trust me, Greer, they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah? Let’s see some of yours then.” I nudge my toes into his leg. I always love hearing his stories, so I'm sure he's got some good ones behind some of his scars.

“This one right here?” He flips his arm over and gestures to a faint white line marking his forearm. “Got that one when I was ten. Hunter dared me to climb this giant tree, and of course, I wasn’t about to let him know I hate heights. And this one”—he runs a finger along the skin near his hairline—“is from Sutton and a hockey stick.”

I burst out laughing, wondering what could have possibly happened that would cause Sutton to choose violence.

“Scars are beautiful, G. They tell us the journey we’ve taken in life.” Leaning forward, he cradles my calf in his hands and presses a kiss to the bottom of my scar. “They’re reminders of challenges we’ve overcome,”—his lips ghost further up—“the battles we’ve fought,”—his tongue traces my scars length. I sink deeper into the couch—“and the lessons we’ve learned.” Warm hands slip under my thigh, kneading the flesh as he kisses just below my knee.

Loud symphonic drumming fills the room, each beat echoes the pounding of my heart. It races as Luke’s lips trail over my knee. I tilt my head to the side, my thoughts drifting away as shadows dance behind my eyelids. His teeth graze my thigh, his hands disappearing beneath my oversized T-shirt. Amid the drumming and shouting from the television speakers, a tsunami of heat rushes beneath my skin as his fingers find purchase on my hips, spanning their width.

“You shall not pass!” we suddenly shout our favorite line in unison, our grins mirroring each other’s.

“The best part,” I murmur, my breath catching in my throat as my hips respond instinctively, rising to meet his touch.

“Take these off.” He groans against my flesh. His fingers tug the waistband of my underwear. Subtly lifting my T-shirt, I wiggle my fingers beneath the band, and together, we shimmy my underwear down my body. Luke kneels between my legs, his eyes dark with want, their heat trailing over every exposed inch of my core, setting my body ablaze.

As my legs loosen, I willingly offer more of myself to Luke. He moistens his lips, sliding his hands down my thighs with purpose, gripping my waist firmly. He settles between my parted thighs, intent written on his face, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His tongue traces a tantalizing path along the delicate skin of my upper thigh, his lips grazing and teasing, inching closer to where I burn for him.

My fingers twist in his tousled locks, locking his amber eyes on mine. A suppressed whimper escapes my lips as I bite down, begging for more. With a knowing smirk, Luke maintains eye contact, his tongue tracing the length of my core, sending sparks of pleasure through me.

“Oh god.” I moan, surrendering to the sensation of his mouth against my heated flesh. He worships me, each lick and tug fuels the desire coursing through my body. Luke’s hand slips between my legs, teasing my entrance, all while licking and tugging at my clitoris.

“You respond so well to me,” Luke murmurs, his voice a low rasp against my flesh. My control slips, my inner muscles clenching around his finger, as my orgasm roars to life, begging to be released.

“Please, Luke,” I say, desperate for more.

“You never have to beg,” he says, pressing deeper into me, his mouth continuing to lavish my sensitive bud with the attention it needs. With deft fingers, he grazes my G-spot, sending waves of pleasure rushing through me. My stomach convulses as my orgasm crashes through my body.

“I love the way you taste,” he whispers, his tongue licking the remnants of my release.

My hands find purchase on his shoulders, urgently tugging him up my body to capture his mouth with mine. Our tongues meet in a passionate dance. Pulling at his shirt, my nails scrape at his exposed skin.

“Take this off,” I say. The need for him consumes me. In one swift motion, he reaches over his head and rips his shirt off, tossing it on the coffee table, the credits of our forgotten movie scrolling across the screen.

“These too,” I say, my fingers gently pushing at the waistband of his shorts.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes.” I sigh. Luke’s gaze intensifies as he obliges, pushing them down his hips. Impatient to see him, I use my toes to help him, sliding them under the fabric and shoving them down his legs. They get stuck on his foot, and we laugh as he kicks at them until they lie discarded behind him on the couch.

“Now you,” he says, desire filling each word, as he lifts my shirt over my breasts and peels it from my body.

Greer. A voice echoes in my head.

“Holy . . .” Luke’s breath catches as he exhales, his eyes fixated on my body. My cheeks flush with a numbness that spreads across my skin. Ignoring the voice, I reach out and wrap my hand around his length. Luke reacts immediately, his shoulders tensing and his stomach muscles contracting with need. With each stroke, desire and longing ignite in my heart.

I want him. I need him.

I sink back and draw him nearer, the head of his cock brushing against my inner thigh. He drops his mouth to mine in a demanding kiss, our lips battling for dominance. Each lick, bite, and suck fueling the fire between us.

But then, lights flash behind my eyes.

Brakes skid. Glass shatters.

I flinch involuntarily, and Luke starts to pull away. I push the vision aside, desperate for him, and wrap my hands under his arms and grab at his shoulders. His lips trail along my jaw, sucking at the tender skin beneath my ear.

The scent of gasoline lingers in the air, and Brian’s face floats across my vision.

Not now. Not now. I chant silently, forcing the memory back as I link my feet behind Luke’s back, pulling him closer. A groan rumbles deep within me when he presses against my entrance.

“Sweetheart, are you sure?” Luke questions again.

Why does he keep asking me that?

Determination drives me as I lift my hips to meet his, seeking connection. Our groans fill the room as the inferno within my chest rages, and the bare head of his cock swipes through my slickness.

“I’m sure,” I say. “I’m on the pill.” I’m so ready to cross over this boundary with him. Only him.

“Okay,” Luke whispers, the anticipation palpable in the air. I hear the crinkle of a wrapper, and then he sheaths himself. His grip tightens behind my neck as he leans down to kiss me. His lips move along my cheek before finding my lips once more. He places himself at my entrance.

I always thought we’d have more time.

The memory comes rushing in—rubber burning, sirens wailing, and screams echoing in my ear.

I recoil from Luke and scramble up onto my elbows. Luke pulls away, shock and shame etched across his face. I gasp for breath, tears cascading down my cheeks.

“Shit,” he says, pulling me upright with him. His hands are gentle as he wraps a soft blanket around my shoulders.

“Just breathe, Greer,” Luke says against my hair, the soothing timbre of his voice calling me back to him. His firm hands rub up and down my arms. “I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry,” I say in a barely-there whisper.

“Why are you sorry?” he says softly, tilting my chin until our eyes meet. There's no judgement in his gaze, only quiet understanding swirling within it.

“Because I want you,” I say.

“I know you do.”

Luke closes the distance between us, pulling me into a tight embrace. We sit there naked on the couch, holding one another, as silent minutes tick by.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Luke’s voice is gentle, coaxing me to open up.

“I’m not sure,” I say, squeezing him tighter. “I was here, wanting you, wanting everything, and then suddenly I was back there. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Luke.”

“Stop being sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he says, his voice firm but tender.

“But I wanted . . . I want you . . . I don’t understand. My body wants you.” Tears stream down my cheeks, my breathing erratic and ragged.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Luke demands softly. “Inhale. Good. Now, exhale.”

I follow his instructions, allowing his presence to anchor me until every ounce of energy drains from my body. He cradles me in his arms, lifting me carefully as he stands and carries me to his bed. Laying me down, he pulls the covers up to my chin.

“Are you leaving?” I ask as he sits on the edge of his bed.

“Do you want me to?” His gaze searches for reassurance.

“No.”

“Then, I’ll stay.” He disposes of the condom as he walks into the other room.

He turns off the lights in the living room, and darkness descends throughout the house. As he joins me beneath the covers, pulling up his briefs, his warmth wraps around me. His arm wraps protectively around my hips, drawing me into the safety of his embrace.

“We just need a bit more time,” he says, his warm breath trails over my shoulder before his lips press gently to the dimple there.

“Why are you so patient with me?” I whisper into the darkness, barely more than a breath.

“Because I knew from the beginning we might try something you weren’t quite ready for. And I also know one day you will be, and I told you I’d wait until then.” He kisses the side of my neck. “No timeline. Remember?”

“No timeline,” I say.

As his breathing evens out and his arm becomes heavy, I turn to face him, my fingers tracing patterns over his face and through his hair. How did you find me?

A sparkle catches my eye, and my heart sinks when I spot my wedding ring, still adorning my left hand. In that moment, a deep understanding washes over me. There are some things I have to take care of first before I can fully embrace the future, before I can move forward with Luke.

Luke : I want to take you somewhere. An overnight trip.

I stare at the text. My stomach flutters at the thought of going away with Luke overnight. Two long days have passed since we almost made love. That night has replayed over and over and over. He stayed the night but left early the next morning for a double shift. Forty-eight hours has never felt so long.

“Whatcha doing?”

I startle momentarily at Sutton’s voice.

I whip around, spotting Sutton and Navy halfway across my yard. I should be surprised they’re here, but I’m not. They’ve been texting me nonstop, but I haven’t felt up to talking to anyone. Instead, I reverted to my natural instinct of isolating and overthinking.

“Nothing,” I say. I’ve been sitting in this spot for nearly an hour, staring at Luke’s message, not knowing what to say to him. Scorching August sun beats down on my bare shoulders, but I don’t care.

“When someone says nothing,” Navy says, “they really mean everything.” She and Sutton plop down next to me.

“G, what’s going on with you?” Sutton nudges my arm, pulling me from my spiral.

“We almost had sex,” I say.

“Almost?” Navy asks gently.

Sighing, I lie back on the grass, my arms and legs splayed out. “Yep, but then I messed it up.”

“What makes you think that?” Navy asks.

“Because just as he was about to—” I look sideways at Sutton to gauge her reaction. She nods for me to continue. “We were about to cross that line, but then my mind decided it didn’t like that plan and I—oh god, I’m so embarrassed.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” Navy says, her tone gentle but blunt. “You knew this could be a possibility. Why are you so shocked it actually happened?”

“Because we’ve done other things and I was fine. It was just him and me, and I wanted him.”

“Well, of course you do,” Navy says. “You’re a horny woman with a hot-as-hell man in your life. Of course you want to fuck his brains out.”

My cheeks flame at Navy’s summation. “He must hate me.”

“My brother does not hate you one bit,” Sutton says. “He’s just worried about you. We all are.”

“You are?”

“Of course we are, knucklehead,” Sutton says. “You’ve been MIA the last two days. You should have texted us.”

I groan outwardly. They lie back on the grass and turn their bodies to face me, each grabbing one of my hands. They know exactly how to root me into the present.

“You are not a burden to us,” Navy says. “We are your best friends, and we want to be here for you.”

“Exactly,” Sutton says. “No more isolating.”

“You’re right,” I tell them, squeezing their hands.

“How long has it been since you've had a flashback or nightmare?” Navy asks.

Looking at Navy, I answer honestly. “Not since our night out dancing at Big Joe's.”

Navy nods before continuing. “What do you think caused this one?”

“Did you know I still have all of our stuff?” The confession flies out, a truth I can no longer contain.

“All of it?” They say leaning up on elbows.

“Yup. All of it. It’s in a storage room near my parents’ house.”

“That’s why you don’t have anything in your house, isn’t it?” Navy asks. I nod.

I’m suddenly in a vacuum, unable to hear any sound except the thumping of my own heart. Guilt presses down all around me, forcing me further into the earth. I grab the center of my chest, feeling those few cracks still in the back of my heart widen—the ones that haven’t fully healed, the ones that won’t allow me to fully give my heart to someone new until I face what I’ve forcefully hidden away.

“Why?” Navy’s question isn’t meant to be hurtful, but I feel hurt all the same.

“I couldn’t be around any of it,” I say. “The memories were too much. After I moved in with my parents, they put all our belongings in a storage unit. It’s not that I haven’t thought about going there, because I have, but I couldn't bring myself to take the leap. And then, I met you girls and Luke and our friends, and everything was amazing. I didn’t want to start slashing away at our happiness. I thought I could ignore it.”

“What about now?” Navy sits up and crosses her legs out in front of her.

“Now?” I ponder the question. “Now, I know I can’t ignore it. Luke deserves to have my full heart, and he isn’t going to get that with the amount of literal baggage I have.”

They both smile at me as the tension and heaviness of the situation eases.

“Do you want our help?” Sutton asks.

I considered asking them, but after thinking—then overthinking—the situation, I decided this was something I’d like Luke’s help with. “I was thinking of asking Luke.”

A bittersweet smile appears on Sutton’s face. “I’m sure he’d like to be there for you in this way, Greer.”

“Really?”

“Duh,” Navy says. “That man is head over heels in love with you and would walk through the bowels of hell if it meant making you that much happier.”

“She’s not wrong,” Sutton says. “Have you asked him?”

“Not exactly. We haven’t really talked since he left for work.” Pulling out my phone, I show them the text messages. “And now he wants to take me somewhere, and I really want to go, but I know I can’t until I deal with my life. My old life.”

“God, you’re such a dumbass sometimes,” Sutton says, shocking both Navy and me. “What did we tell you when you and Luke started this thing?” She pauses for dramatic effect. I shrug my shoulders. “You have to communicate with him!” Just then another text pings through.

Luke : I’m on my way. Have your bag packed.

“What’s it say?” Navy asks, and I show them. Sutton rips my phone out of my hands and types out a fevered response.

Me/Sutton : I would love to. I think there are some things we should talk about.

Luke : That sounds ominous.

Me/Sutton : It’s not. I can’t wait to see you.

Luke : Me too. 3

“See!” Sutton says, handing me my phone back. “Was that really all that hard?!”

“Guess we better go help you pack,” Navy says. She holds out her hands and pulls me to stand. Together, we all head inside to pack my bag for whatever Luke has planned. I hope they pack enough confidence in there for me, too.