17. Amara
SEVENTEEN
AMARA
"You're drunk," I stated unnecessarily when I opened my front door and saw Lucas.
"Not drunk, a little…tipsy." He grinned at me, and my heart stuttered. He was so handsome, and when he let go of that Covington stiffness, he was endearing and charming, the way he used to be when it was just us.
I let him in.
"Like you were," he teased as he removed his suit jacket and threw it on my couch, "when you texted me."
"So, this is tit for tat?" I put my hands on my waist because I wanted very much to touch him, feel him, be with him.
It was easier to resist him when I was angry with him, but, lately, he'd been muddling the waters with his declaration of love; by sending me flowers and telling me how Kath and he were not together.
"I'd text, Tesoro, but you still haven't unblocked me on your phone."
He walked up to me and took my hands in his. He brought them to his mouth and kissed my knuckles.
"You're upset," I remarked.
I loved this man, and I desperately wanted to comfort him. He was sad, and all I wanted was to make him happy. Would this feeling ever go away—the need to see the one you love cared for and well?
"Yeah." He placed my hands on his chest. "I fucked up so much with you."
His heart was beating fast, and my fingers curled into his white dress shirt.
For months and months, I'd seen him get dressed in the morning, saw him button his shirt, put on his tie, drink his coffee, and kiss me before he left for work.
The everyday life of a couple had been intoxicating for me; it spoke volumes about our intimacy, our closeness, our harmony.
But he'd found it and me boring and comfortable.
I licked my lips and saw his mouth hone in on them. "You have the sexiest mouth," he whispered.
"Lucas, I'm not your old shoe."
He frowned, confused. "You've got to explain that, Tesoro."
I let out a deep breath. "You told your mother that with Kath, your feelings were all-consuming, and with me, you were…comfortable. I had thought then, like an old shoe. I'm not an old shoe."
I felt stupid explaining myself, but hadn't we gotten into trouble because we had not been telling each other how we felt?
He stroked my cheek with a finger. "Yes, I was comfortable because what we had was healthy for the most part.
It was warm and loving. Full of affection and care.
I didn't realize that what we had was love of the deepest kind—because we were at ease with each other, because we could be our true selves with one other. "
"And Kath?" The words trembled out of me as my eyes filled with tears.
"The past. A childish love that never grew out of its teenage years.
A stunted relationship, the resurrection of which had just one allure…
," he paused to lick a tear that rolled down my cheek, "The satiation of my ego.
Kath was on her knees begging me to take her back and twenty-five-year-old Lucas felt good about that; felt validated. "
When I used my right brain, I understood what he was saying, but my heart hated each word. But he was finally telling me his truth. If I ever wanted to be in a relationship with him again, we had to learn to speak to one another.
What the fuck?
Amara, wake up. This man hurt you. He'll hurt you again and again. I wasn't going to ever be in a relationship with him again.
"But the grown-up Lucas, the one who took over a business and was afraid every day to fail, that man had had one woman in his life who had been holding him up, and he hadn't seen it because he was blind." He brushed his lips against mine and groaned. "God, I missed your taste. I missed your voice."
He was ensnaring me, and I pulled away, wanting to protect myself. I hugged myself. I was in a tank top and sleep shorts. It was late when I opened the door and now I felt exposed because of it. This was too intimate. No man had seen me like this except maybe Basil since I met Lucas.
"You balanced me, and since you've been gone, I've felt your loss. I've lost my footing, and I'm falling, Amara," he continued his verbal assault on my heart.
His eyes filled with emotion, and I felt my protective walls crack.
"No," I whimpered, more to myself than him. "Don't do this to me, Lucas."
"Do what, Tesoro?"
Lucas was a predator when it came to taking what he wanted.
He could see I was weak, and he prowled over to me, knowing he had me.
I wanted to be stronger. But God, it had been so many months since I'd last felt loved and safe that the temptation to take what he offered without thinking about the future was more than I could bear.
But you have to, Amara. You give in, and he'll eat you alive.
Lucas eats pussy so good, my silly vagina interjected.
"Do what?" he persisted when I remained silent.
"Take advantage of me," I breathed.
He pulled my arms from around me and yanked me against him. "I want you. I always want you. Are you aroused, Amara?"
His voice became gruff and sexier when he was excited and that was affecting me, but not as much as the plea in his eyes.
"You hurt me. You'll hurt me again. What will I do when that happens?" I demanded, holding on to the last vestiges of my control.
"What if that doesn't happen?"
I shook my head. "You lost my trust. You let me go. You didn't fight for me."
"I'm fighting now."
"It's too late."
"Don't say that, Tesoro," he begged. "Please don't say that."
"Oh, Lucas," I moaned.
He leaned his forehead against mine. "Don't send me away.
"Why?"
"Because I'm falling and failing, Amara. I need help. I need you."
"You want to fuck me," I said bitterly.
He hauled me to him, his hips against mine. I could feel him erect, and my stupid vagina, the one who had as much brains as probably his dick did, got wetter.
"Don't talk about what we do like that," he warned. "Ever. We were honest in bed with each other. Always."
We were, but I didn't want to cave. The more emotional distance I could maintain, the better.
Better for what? Break the dry spell, woman, and get laid. Though emotionally, it would be better if you picked a one-night stand at a bar than do the horizontal mambo again with Lucas because your heart will be involved and will eventually break…again.
"I don't know what you want from me," I cried out in exasperation.
"Everything. I want it all," he growled. "Kiss me, Tesoro."
"Lucas—"
He nibbled around my mouth and nuzzled me. I could smell the whiskey he had been drinking. I could smell his cologne. And him. Vital. Irresistible. Mine.
"You love me?" I demanded.
"More than my life."
"I won't share."
"You're the only woman I've wanted since I met you. The only woman I've been inside since I met you. The only woman I have ever loved as a man."
"I don't know if we can be in a relationship again. I'll always be scared that you'll leave."
"Then I'll work hard every day so you don't ever feel like that again. So that you'll know my heart and know I'll never leave you because I can't live without you."
He was saying all the right things. I knew he wasn't being flippant. Lucas was a thoughtful man. He hadn't chased me down when I first left because he hadn't been sure of his feelings. But now he was, and he was here, begging me to not send him away, promising me the world.
"Your mother?" I had to know.
"Can go fuck herself," he said and shocked me. I'd never heard him say a single bad thing about his mother or even his sister. He'd admit they could be difficult at times, but he always found a way to make excuses for them.
I could send him away. Of course I could. He'd leave eventually. He'd keep trying for a while, but then he'd give up. He'd have to. No one could keep putting themselves through rejection forever.
But where would that leave me?
I still loved him. And he was telling me he loved me, too. I believed him, because Lucas didn't say things he didn't mean. In the two years we'd been together, he'd told me I was beautiful, that he cared about me, that he was crazy for me—but he'd never said he loved me.
I'd been a fool to move in with him without hearing those words. But I'd been so madly in love, I'd leapt without thinking.
But I'd grown up since then. I didn't take those risks anymore. We'd go slow this time. No moving in. No building a life together until we both were certain.
However, I'd give him comfort and take the same from him.
"Come to bed," I said softly. He smiled then. "Thank you, Tesoro."
I was nervous as I took him to my bedroom. He'd never been here before. No other man had, except maybe the bedframe and mattress delivery guys.
I filled the bedroom with warm colors. A lot of rust and yellow because I needed solace.
I was a moody decorator—and our bedroom in the townhouse had been more masculine so Lucas would be comfortable, and the artwork had been bolder, more colorful.
When we'd moved in together, I'd been happy, and that showed in the colors I chose.
When I'd set up this bedroom I'd been thinking about healing.
"You always make everything feel like home," he whispered, looking around. He then closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "You smell the same, Tesoro." He opened his eyes and smiled at me. "You smell like you're mine."
Say what you may about caveman behavior—in the bedroom, it seriously worked for me.
Lucas pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
Finally, kissed me. It was brutally erotic in its softness.
A part of me had thought when we got together again, we'd devour each other, but I realized neither of us wanted that.
We both wanted to savor. It had been so long since we'd touched, and suddenly, the thought of rushing it seemed vulgar.
As he kissed me, he walked us toward the bed.
My back hit the mattress, and then he settled himself on top. His lips met mine again, and he ran his hands up and down my sides as if re-learning my contours.
He pulled back and looked into my eyes. "You want this?"
A part of me wanted to scream, yes, another part wanted to scream, oh god, yes.
"I do."