27. charlee
TWENTY-SEVEN
charlee
If a woman could stop breathing by simply looking at a man, this was going to be one of those times. I could pretend to be chill and wait for Lucas to come inside, but that would be a complete farce. It felt like Lucas and I didn’t have time for games at this point. Hopefully, those were in the past.
The week had gone by like molasses, except for the time I stopped at the tattoo parlor Thursday and watched Lucas work for a bit. Flipping through his design book, I thought about sharing the design I’d drawn at my desk the other day with Lucas. He’d probably laugh. What did I know about tattoo designs?
His were really good, but with each one I found myself wondering what I’d do differently. My own would have more fine lines, a softer touch. Totally different look. Not better or worse, just different.
Tonight, there was no sign of the ex-sniper tattooed badass that sat in that chair in his own tattoo parlor. The man walking up to my porch looked as if he could have stepped out of a GQ magazine. Suit. Tie. Hair perfectly and sexily in place. He was, in a word, drop-dead gorgeous.
Okay, that wasn’t one word.
Closing the door behind me, I reveled in the expression on his face. What woman didn’t want to feel beautiful? And right now, Lucas was making me feel exactly that. He stopped, shook his head, and whistled.
“Just look at you. So fucking hot.”
I loved the raw way he complimented me.
“Thank you,” I said, making my way down the porch stairs. I did like this dress. An open back with spaghetti straps, it was simple. Black. And definitely sexy. What was not sexy? The bra required to make this thing happen. But the end result was worth it.
Since Lucas hadn’t made a move all week, not at KC’s nor when he walked me to my car Thursday night, I didn’t expect him to haul me against him the minute we met on the sidewalk. But he did, his arms encircling me as if he owned me. Possessed me.
His head leaned toward mine, and I didn’t care about my lipstick or perfect beach waves as one of his hands moved up and grabbed a fistful of hair. Right there out in the open, for anyone who cared to see, Lucas turned me into an absolute puddle. His firm grip in my hair, his lips moving over mine, his tongue demanding I give everything, which I did. It wasn’t a welcome kiss so much as it was a “you’re mine” kiss.
When he pulled away, I was just glad I’d not chosen the red lipstick. It would have been all over the place right about now.
“Mmmm,” he said, looking me up and down. His hand, which had been pressed against the small of my back to pull me toward him, now moved upward, teasing the exposed flesh. His fingers traced the curve of my spine as I closed my eyes, leaning into the sensation.
“I will wear this dress for every date,” I promised when I opened my eyes again. Lucas stared at me like a starving man. “Keep looking at me like that and wherever we’re going will become secondary to luring you into my place.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t need to do much luring, baby. Trust me.”
Baby. I did love that.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t molest you the second I could. So do me a favor and don’t look so fucking hot for the next few hours? Okay?”
I agreed, but we weren’t very far up the road when Lucas pulled over. I was about to ask him what he was doing when he put the truck in park, leaned across the seat, and kissed me. The idea of him not being able to wait, being forced to pull over for this, only heightened the experience. His lips glided over mine, becoming familiar again. His hand, on my thigh, gathered the material of my dress until his fingers found flesh.
With it now hiked up, my leg exposed, his hand moved from my thigh inward until he reached the material of my thong. Pushing it easily aside, he wasted no time finding out exactly how much he turned me on. First one finger and then two, Lucas groaning as they easily slipped inside.
“So fucking wet,” he murmured against my lips.
He resumed the kiss, his tongue and fingers working in tandem in the same rhythm, and it wasn’t long before I was pressing my hips up to him, circling them. So close. . .
“Lucas,” I whispered.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me.”
“I’m gonna come.” I looked into his eyes.
“Who are you coming for? Tell me, Charlee.”
“For you,” I managed.
“Say my name. Tell me, Charlee, who you’re coming for. Only me.”
“Only you, Lucas. I’m coming for you.” The return of his possessiveness, one that wasn’t out of control when we were younger but always lurked in the shadows, pushed me over the edge. I came apart in his hands, my entire body shuddering as Lucas leaned into me once more. This kiss was gentler, as if he were attempting to draw out every last bit of my climax.
It worked. For what seemed like ten minutes I continued to feel myself pulsating. Then, finally, it abated. My breathing returned to normal. Lucas sat up.
Deep breath.
I pulled my dress back into place, all the while watching as Lucas continued to smile at me.
“So much for not molesting me,” I teased. But then quickly added, “Although that’s not a complaint.”
“I did warn you, if you continued to look hot. . .”
The fact that I hadn’t done anything except put on some makeup and a nice dress, and Lucas reacted this way? It made me very much excited for the rest of the night and ready to put aside our disagreements and simply enjoy.
“So,” I said as he began to drive. “What’s next?”
“I had a chat with Marco Grado.”
“Love the Grados,” I said. “But who doesn’t? Marco is a real pistol, isn’t he?”
“I agree. Great family, but Marco and I have definitely reconnected.”
I laughed. “Not surprised you gravitated to the firecracker of the bunch.”
I realized we were heading toward Grado Valley Vineyards. But they were closed by now. “He’s really cool. Owns the vineyard next door to GVV. They have an interesting arrangement. At this point it’s almost like a given, since they have a path from one to the other, that if you’re tasting at Grado, you’ll hit Sunset next door, and vice versa. Speaking of, it seems suspiciously like that’s where we’re headed, but I know they’re closed. And you mentioned dinner?”
“Someone hungry?”
I could take that in lots of different directions, but I chose to keep it clean. “I actually forgot to eat lunch. So yes,” I admitted.
“Forgot? How do you forget to eat lunch?”
Lucas pulled into the empty parking lot of Grado Valley Vineyards. It was one of the larger ones on the lake, with two separate wineries and even a brewery. But, as I thought, it was very much closed at this hour.
“Um?” Because I was too nervous and excited to eat.
Parking, he turned off the engine and started to get out. I did the same, but he stopped me. “Lemme get it.”
There was something about seeing Lucas grab our bags from the back seat and walk around the front of his truck to open my door that was endearing. Sexy, even. Even more so when he held out his hand to help me step down.
“You clean up nice,” I said. “I can’t decide what’s hotter. . . T-shirt-with-tattoos-showing Lucas or this suit-wearing one currently helping me out of his truck.”
Lucas closed the door behind me but didn’t let go of my hand. “I might work in the mud, Charlee, but I play in the clouds.”
I laughed. “What are these clouds you speak of? I love this place, but it’s closed.”
“Mmmm.” He was being even more coy than usual. “Or is it?”
Sure enough, there were lights on in the larger of the two buildings, the Wine Barn, where Lucas had come to meet me that day in the vineyards. When we walked up the stairs, hand in hand, and were greeted at the door by Marco, vice president of Grado Valley Vineyards, I knew something was up.
Lucas, two bags slung on his shoulder, dropped my hand to shake Marco’s. “Thanks for doing this,” he said.
Marco smiled devilishly at me. Yep. Definitely something was up.
“My pleasure. Everything’s all set. Here’s the key,” he said. “First cottage on the lake, front porch light is on. Everything is all set.”
“Thanks again,” Lucas said. “I owe you one.”
“I’ll take payment in ink,” Marco said.
“Anytime, come on in.”
“Will do.” Then Marco said to me, “Have a great night. Good to see you, Charlee.”
“You too,” I said, slightly bemused. We left, back down the way we’d come, but this time we went around the Wine Barn on the path that led to the lake.
“Okay, talk to me.”
“Well. . .” Lucas took my hand again. “As you’ve probably guessed, we technically didn’t need these.” He gestured to our outfits. “But I really wanted to see you in a dress.”
“Oh my God.”
“I also thought my tie might come in handy.”
I nearly stumbled at his words. Lucas managed to shock me at almost every turn, and I had to admit the idea was an enticing one. Being tied up? By him?
“Cold?” he asked.
It was a warm fall evening, so no. “Not cold,” I admitted.
His smile told me Lucas understood perfectly. And now, so did I. As we walked up the porch of the first cottage on the lake, some for rental and others where the Grado siblings actually lived, I could see a table for two all set for dinner, complete with candlelight.
“Lucas.”
What a sight. It was easily the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.
“Charlee.”
At the foot of the stairs that led to the porch, Lucas stepped back and raised our joined hands as a gesture for me to go on ahead of him.
Taking two steps up, I turned. Looked back. Lucas stood there still, watching me.
“Tonight,” he said, his tone almost wistful and very un-Lucas-like. “We start from the beginning.”