Chapter 7 Luc #2
Jesse gestures for me to sit at the kitchen island while he prepares two sparkling waters with lime wedges and hands one to me. He holds his up and I tap mine against it, repeating his murmured, “To new beginnings.”
I take a sip and look back to where the small table is glowing on the other side of the suite. It looks like something out of a cheesy Hallmark movie. The scene feels intimate and deliberate. I can’t decide how to feel about how hard he’s trying. It’s kind of endearing, though.
“You know,” he says, catching my attention again by guiding me back towards the table. “Aside from potentially chasing you off with my slightly over-the-top gesture–”
“Slightly?”
“Aside from that,” he continues, shoulders shaking with laughter. “I kind of like how this has worked out. I have you all to myself now.”
My throat goes dry. “You say that like we’re already dating.”
His green eyes lock onto mine, steady and unflinching. “I’d be okay with that.”
My chest tightens, sharp and aching. Butterflies claw their way up, threatening to spill out. I clear my throat, trying to get control. He’s obviously joking.
I chuckle, but I’m sure it sounds strained. “I’m not sure how that would work, considering our schedules. And how would we go anywhere and not get mobbed?”
The whole reason our date was changed is because their fans figured out where they were staying and basically mobbed the hotel.
A security guard, as well as a bellhop, were injured in the fray.
Not only did the band have to sneak out of the hotel and check into a new place across town, but Jesse and his bandmates went to visit the injured people at the hospital.
They actually had to wear disguises and everything.
Luckily, everyone is going to be okay, but I can’t imagine how scary that would be
His grin tilts sideways, playful but careful. “I’m not gonna out you, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I’m not asking you to marry me. It’s just dinner. I really do want to get to know you.”
A beat passes. I nod once. “I want to get to know you too. I just–I don’t really like attention. Publicity isn’t really my thing.”
Jesse chuckles. “Big football star doesn’t like attention? How exactly does that work?”
I roll my eyes, but I’m used to getting teased about this. “I’m a football player, not a football star. I went pro to help my family, and it’s really the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”
He steps closer, heat radiating off him, warm spice curling into my lungs. His hand lifts, cupping my jaw like he’s been waiting years to do it. “I’m pretty sure I remember you being good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice low.
His green eyes bore into me, and he moves in close enough I can feel the brush of his breath. I close my eyes and lean forward.
When his lips touch mine, my skin ignites. Goosebumps erupt over every inch of my skin, electricity buzzing all the way down to my toes and snapping back up to my scalp. It’s like I’ve been plunged into a pool of static.
The kiss deepens almost immediately, like we’ve both been holding our breath for six years and finally let it out at the same time.
Jesse’s mouth is hot and insistent, tasting faintly of cinnamon and something darker I can’t place.
It’s enough to make my knees threaten to give.
Surprisingly, I don’t notice his tongue piercing right away, but once my tongue touches it, I feel feral.
A jolt of pure desire shoots down my spine, and I kiss him deeper, wanting more.
I lick deep into his mouth, chasing the piercing like I could wrap my tongue around it. Jesse groans, and I know I’m done for.
He takes the drink from my hand and sets it on the table without breaking the kiss.
My hand fists in the fabric of his shirt, fingers brushing the warm skin underneath where it hangs open.
His chest is hard under my palm, and I can feel the rapid beating of his heart.
He makes a noise low in his throat that sparks something hungry in me.
He presses closer, walking me backwards, our mouths crashing together again and again in sloppy, urgent kisses that make me feel twenty-one all over again. My teeth catch his lower lip. His hand slides from my jaw down to my waist, curling in my sweater like he’s daring me to pull away.
I don’t. I can’t.
The room tilts as he urges me deeper into the suite, surrounded by flickering firelight and glass and shadow. We bump into something solid–his hip hitting the edge of a table, a glass rattling. He doesn’t notice, and we don’t stop.
By the time my calves hit the edge of the sofa, I’m breathless, pulse hammering like I sprinted from Shreveport rather than flew.
He pushes gently, urging me down until I sink onto the plush cushions.
He follows, a knee pressing between mine, mouth never leaving mine, hands braced on either side of me like he’s caging me in.
It’s overwhelming. The city lights blazing beyond the windows, the fire crackling behind us, the relentless spinning of the world’s axis as our kiss spirals hotter, rougher. Jesse’s tongue slides against mine almost desperately, kissing me like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he stops.
I’ll worry about what all of this means later. For now, I let myself forget everything–the cameras, the chaos, the way our worlds don’t line up. For now, it’s just us, tangled in heat and memory and the kind of want that swallows me whole.
With trembling hands, I grip Jesse’s body, fingers digging into his thigh as I pull him flush against me.
He fits against me perfectly, every angle of him pressing in, melting into the curve of my body like he belongs there.
I arch up into him without thinking, a groan escaping before I can choke it back.
He swallows it like fuel, and it ignites him.
One hand sliding into my hair, the other gripping my waist where the hem of my sweater has ridden up.
His thumb strokes absent circles over my Adonis belt, sending shivers racing up my spine.
My hands wander without thought, over his ass and up the firm line of his back under the silky fabric of his shirt.
It’s terrifying how easy this is. How natural it feels to touch him, to get lost in him, to ache for more from someone who is still little more than a stranger.
The room blurs. City lights outside bleed into the flicker of candles, the crackling of the fire muffled by the rush of blood in my ears.
The only thing I can focus on, the only thing sharp and real, is Jesse.
The rasp of his breath against my cheek, the softness of his skin against mine, the way he drags his teeth across my bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.
My head tips back against the sofa, surrendering myself to his touch. He kisses down my throat, biting softly where my pulse jackhammers. I gasp, hips jerking, and he answers with a growl that vibrates against my skin, grinding his pelvis against mine.
It’s too much. It’s not enough.
I’m seconds away from coming in my pants. My hands fist in his shirt, tugging him closer, until there’s nothing between us but heat and the dangerous wish that there were no layers of clothes between us as we writhe against each other.
I could lose myself in him all over again and never come up for air.
It’s a sobering thought that pulls me back just enough for the realization that if I don’t stop us now, I won’t have the strength to.
My self-control is thin and frayed, close to snapping at the feel of his hot, insistent mouth moving down my neck, his fingers reaching between me to unfasten the button of my jeans.
“Jesse–” My voice cracks. I bring my hands up to his chest to push him away, but the feeling of a rumble moving through him has me digging my fingers into his shirt and holding on. I’m not pushing him away like I should, but I’ve stopped him from going further.
“Fuck. Say it again,” he rasps, his voice little more than a desperate growl. “Say my name again.”
“Jesse…”
“Luc,” he gasps, trembling, like the sound of his name on my lips is enough to push him over the edge. He drops his head onto my shoulder and shudders.
God help me, that makes it even harder to breathe. I move a hand from his chest to the back of his head, gripping his hair to pull him up so I can look into his eyes. His eyes are darker and dilated, wild and desperate. He looks as wrecked as I feel.
I forget all about caution or slowing down.
Instead, I pull him down to slam my mouth against his.
I suck his tongue into my mouth and play with the ball on the underside.
My other hand slides around his waist and down the back of his jeans, gripping his ass and guiding him to grind against me while I roll my hips into him.
One thrust, then two, fingernails digging into skin. Three, and…
He lets out a choked moan, and I swallow it down hungrily, giving in to the warm pleasure building at the base of my spine.
My release follows his, warm, wet cum drenching the inside of my briefs.
We both gasp for breath, moaning as we rub ourselves together, riding out the wave of pleasure unlike anything I’ve felt since that night six years ago.