Chapter 28
HOLIDAY
Ipull into Lucas’s driveway and kill the engine, my heart racing. The Christmas lights glow warmly through the windows.
I grab my phone and quickly text my mom.
Holiday
Staying at a friend’s house tonight. Love you.
Mom
Okay, sweetie. Have fun! Love you too!
I’m thirty-four years old, and my parents don’t care where I am.
But after the bourbon and tent incident, when no one could find me, I’m trying to communicate if I won’t be home.
I don’t want my parents to worry, though it does make me feel like a teenager again, sneaking around with Lucas.
Which, I guess, is exactly what I’m still doing.
Some things do stay the same.
The overnight bag I packed this morning, just in case, comes with me as I step out of the car.
The night air bites at my skin, and I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I’d grabbed a heavier jacket.
Before I can make it to the porch, headlights sweep across the driveway.
Lucas’s truck pulls in next to my car, and he’s out in seconds, walking toward me with that sexy look in his eyes.
“Beat me here,” he says.
“I left first.”
“You did.” He reaches me and immediately pulls me against him, his mouth finding mine. The kiss is hungry and impatient, and I drop my bag to wrap my arms around his neck.
When he pulls back, he’s grinning. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
Before I can respond, he bends down and throws me over his shoulder in one smooth motion.
“Lucas!” I shriek, the sound turning into laughter. “What are you doing? I dropped my bag!”
“Your bag?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “You moving in, Peaches?”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I tell him as he easily picks up my duffel and carries me up the steps. Before we walk in, his hand comes down on my ass in a playful smack.
“Temping you is fun,” he says.
“You can’t just be a caveman and throw your woman over your shoulder whenever you want!”
“But I did.” He types in the code to his house and shuts the door behind him. “Seems to be working pretty well.”
I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe. “Put me down!”
“Nope. Not until we’re upstairs.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
God help me, I really, really do.
As promised, he doesn’t set me down until we’re in his bedroom. When my feet hit the floor, I’m unsteady.
“You’re so pretty.” He cups my face, and the playfulness fades from his eyes, replaced by something hungrier. When he kisses me this time, there is no rushing. He takes every sweet second, and I moan against him.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes twinkle. “Wait here.”
Before he goes, he turns on the bedside lamp so I’m not standing in the dark, alone.
He disappears into the bathroom, and I hear him moving around. A moment later, he comes back and takes my hand, leading me. I stop in the doorway, and my breath catches. Candles are lit on the counter. The room glows.
He moves to the shower and turns it on. Steam billows and the glass begins to fog.
I take several steps toward him, and he gently kisses me as his fingers grab the hem of my sweater.
As the fabric rises, his knuckles graze against my skin, causing goose bumps to trail over me.
I raise my arms, and he pulls my top over my head, letting it fall to the floor.
His hands slide down my bare arms as he kisses the ghosts of the hickeys he gave me.
He brushes my hair back from my face as I remove his belt, then unbutton and unzip his pants.
I push them down along with his boxers. My fingers slide up his shirt, and he removes it.
The two of us shimmy out of the rest of our clothes and stand in front of one another naked.
Lucas wants to take his time, not rush the motions.
He wants to kiss me and touch me and memorize every inch of me.
The thought breaks something open in my chest. This is what it’s like to be wanted, desired.
With Dominic, sex was about performance. About fucking to fuck. It was always about him and what he wanted. My satisfaction didn’t matter. Pleasing him should’ve been enough.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter.
“What?” Lucas asks, pulling away.
I shake my head. “Nothing. I was in my head.”
Lucas looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. “Be with me, right here, right now. Get out of there.” He taps on my temple. “Okay? Little Miss Overthinker.”
“Okay,” I tell him as we step into the shower.
“I’ve missed this,” he says as the stream falls over us. “Being close to you. Touching you. Having you in my space. I didn’t realize how much until now.”
He reaches for the shampoo and pours some into his palm, then his fingers slide into my hair. He massages my scalp in circles that make my eyes drift closed. No one has ever touched me with as much care and attention as Lucas. The man is a lover.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“You,” I tell him.
This makes him smile.
He takes his time, working the shampoo all the way through my hair before guiding me under the spray to rinse. When my hair is clean, he grabs the conditioner. By the time he’s done, I’m overly relaxed, leaning against him for support.
“Now let me wash you,” he says.
“Princess treatment,” I whisper.
“Queen treatment,” he says, kissing my shoulder.
Lucas grabs the body wash and loofah, then starts at my shoulders. His touch causes heat to rise throughout me as he moves down my arms, across my collarbone, and over my breasts. When his thumbs brush over my nipples, I gasp.
“Sensitive?” he asks.
“They’ve always been.”
“I remember.” His hands continue exploring me. Light fingertips slide down my ribs, across my stomach, over my hips. “I remember everything about your body. Every place that makes you sigh. Every spot that makes you moan.”
His hand slides between my legs, and I have to brace myself against the tile wall. His fingers move in slow, torturous circles, and I feel my knees go weak.
“Are you with me, Peaches?”
I laugh and smile. “Yes. I was just thinking about how, with you, it’s different. I’m not a box to check off your list. You care about my pleasure. You—”
“Shh.” Lucas places his hands on my shoulders and meets my eyes. Suddenly, we’re eighteen again, and he’s about to give me life advice.
“I’m sorry that you only dated pieces of shit after me. I’m sorry they treated you like a condiment instead of a precious commodity.” He kisses down my neck, between my breasts, and drops to his knees. “Look at me.”
I meet his green eyes and he smiles. “You deserve to be worshipped, Holiday.”
When he presses a kiss to my hip bone, I thread my fingers through his hair. He studies me like he would a piece of art. We look at each other in the candlelight and steam, both breathing harder now. Carefully, he lifts my leg and steadies me as he devours me.
“Fuck,” I whisper as he focuses on my clit. He hums when I rock my hips, loving the way his stubble feels against me.
“You’re trying to make me come,” I whisper.
He nods, slowing down his pace, burying his face in my pussy. I’m greedy for him, almost too greedy. Two fingers slide inside me, and when he curls them, I nearly lose myself.
“Not yet,” he tells me.
I tip my head back, letting the water run over my face and hair. “I’m so close.”
“I know, I can taste you,” he says.
“Lucas, please.”
“Please what?”
“I need more.”
“Tell me what you need, Peaches.”
“You. Inside me.”
The look in his eyes steals my breath.
“We’re getting there, babe.” He closes his eyes and continues to work my clit with his mouth while giving me two fingers. The combination is overwhelming in the best fucking way possible.
I steady myself on his shoulders as the pleasure builds.
“That’s it,” he says against my pussy. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
The orgasm hits me hard, and I cry out his name, my body clenching around his fingers. He holds me steady against the wall, whispering how sexy I am. I ride his fingers, loving how it feels, even if it makes me blush.
“That’s it, Peaches. Take what you want, like old times.” He continues to tease my clit, and the heat builds again.
“Fuck, Lucas,” I whisper.
“Oh, my greedy girl has returned,” he mutters against me. “Welcome back, sweetheart.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly, wanting and needing to come again.
“So fucking wet,” he says, grabbing my ass. “So fucking mine.”
I tug on his hair when he claims me, guttural groans I’ve never heard before release from my throat.
“You belong to me now,” he says against me. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” I confess into the quiet. “I’ve always belonged to you, Lucas.”
My body can’t take any more, and I nearly lose my balance as the second orgasm rips through me. He holds on to me, steadies me. Lucas laughs as he kisses back up my body to my ear. “Love the way you taste.”
Once I’ve come back to reality, I take my time washing his hair first, running my fingers through it like he did for me. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch, and I love seeing this big lumberjack of a man so vulnerable with me.
When his hair is clean, I lather my hands with body wash and explore his body. I take my time, learning the new scars and the way his muscles shift under my touch. When I wrap my hand around his cock, he groans, and his head drops back against the tile.
“Feels so good,” he says.
I drop to my knees in front of him, the shower water cascading over both of us.
“Holiday—”
“Let me.” I look up at him, and his eyes are full of want. “I want to taste you.”
His hand slides into my wet hair. It’s gentle but so damn possessive, I squeeze my thighs together. “Okay.”
The first taste of him makes me hum with satisfaction. I take him into my mouth slowly, savoring the weight of him on my tongue. His fingers tighten in my hair, and I hear him groan above me.
“Fuck, Holiday.”