Chapter 23 #3
“Ethan, you sell yourself so short.” He chuckles, smiling sadly.
“You’re the kindest person I know, with a genuine heart of gold, and a downright ludicrous sense of generosity that seems almost self-destructive.
You’re funnier than me, and you’re a damn good cook with just as much passion for the things you like.
Maybe some questionable taste in music, but I can forgive the country because you also love art and classical music as much as I do. ”
I can’t help but laugh at that, and Luke’s smile grows. He brushes his fingers through my beard, and I lean into the touch.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but it doesn’t feel like it. When I’m with you… When we’re together….” Luke’s brows scrunch together as he tries to find the words, but I already know what he means even before he can finish the thought.
“It feels right,” I say softly, and Luke nods emphatically.
“It does. And as much as you protest that you’re not beautiful, I have to say that I wholeheartedly disagree.
” His smile lights up, and he runs his hands up through my hair and across my chest. “You’re perfect, just as you are.
You’re probably the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.
I understand now that maybe you don’t see it about yourself, but if I have to work overtime to change your mind, I’m more than happy to put in the effort. ”
My heart’s pounding in my chest, a fire burning over my skin in all the places he’s touching me. Luke holds me captive in his gaze, and the chaos in my mind subsides. The worries and fears are slowly silenced until all that’s left is the flickering belief that his statement might be true.
Luke smirks as if he can tell that’s what I’m thinking, the corner of his mouth twisting into that devilish little half-smile.
“But what if—” I start, and Luke shakes his head.
“None of that,” he purrs, and my breath catches in my throat. “Apparently, I haven’t been clear enough with my intentions or desires. I don’t make my choices lightly.”
He moves closer, sliding his hand along my lower back and bowing his head until it’s next to mine, his lips against my ear. My eyes flutter closed against my will.
“When I want something, I take it, and I don’t appreciate what I want being questioned. I don’t make mistakes. I want you, Ethan. You are mine,” he says, his voice low, almost like a growl, and I feel a tingle down my spine. Fuck.
I shudder at the possessiveness behind his words, hardly processing what it does to my brain—like a perpetual itch finally being scratched.
I never expected anything like this to have such an effect on me—or that I would be so into it—but I can’t deny how good it feels.
It’s the kind of shit I’d demand from a romance novel.
Only, I didn’t believe it could exist in the real world in any other context but awkward.
Luke makes it feel as natural as breathing. Like he doesn’t have to think about it.
The unanticipated result is that the jealousy I felt from all the previous attention on him is instantly snuffed out like a candle doused in a bucket of cold water. He could have a million people trying to throw themselves at him, and I would never doubt that he’d still pick me from the crowd.
Luke suddenly moves his hand against my back to yank me closer until we’re pressed against each other, and I can feel that he’s hard, sending a jolt through my core.
My own dick twitches at the thought that he’s hard for me—because of me.
His mouth crushes mine, his tongue sinking deep and desperate, and my whole face flushes hot at the sudden intensity.
I lose control of myself as I push him back against the wall again, and he welcomes it.
Vaguely, I’m aware that we’re out in public, but it’s the last thing on my mind as I run my hands over his chest and down his sensual hips, wanting to get closer.
A few hoots and hollers from the people hanging outside the bar down the street snap me back to reality.
I break the connection and look at Luke with wide eyes, breathless and wild, before looking back at the accidental audience to my depravity.
Luke laughs, completely free and easy, but he keeps his hands on me to stop me from going anywhere—as if he can tell I’m a flight risk. I bury my face against his chest and groan, completely embarrassed, but he hugs me tightly, kissing my temple.
“Please kill me,” I mumble.
“No, I think I’ll keep you.” Luke chuckles.
“How can you just say shit like that and make it sound easy?” I ask, pulling back and looking up at his face.
He brushes his long fingers through my hair. “I told you. I like seeing you come undone, and I think I’ve finally figured you out.”
“You’ll be the death of me in the end.”
Luke smirks. “Then we’ll both go down in flames, and I’ll be happier for it.”
He grabs my hand and pulls it up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the backs of my fingers, but there’s still a glint of that raw possessiveness in his eyes that makes me weak, and I realize he really has figured me out.
He knows how to push my buttons to get me going, and I’m practically putty in his hands.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, and I can only nod.