Chapter 6 #2
I nod, not trusting myself to speak, instead using my energy to keep from crying. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let Grace Monroe see me cry. I’d honestly rather trip into oncoming traffic than shed a tear because of her. Let alone allow her to see any of those tears.
Lucas guides me through the party, hand carefully resting on the small of my back. The brush of his fingertips against my exposed skin sends a shiver down my spine. I want to turn around, wrap my arms around his waist and bury my face into his chest.
Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so angry all the time.
Once outside, the night air is already doing favors for my overheated skin and reducing the feeling of my throat tightening from how suffocating the air inside was beginning to feel.
Desperate to sit down and relieve some of the shakiness in my legs, I’m now the one guiding Lucas to the open back gate.
With most people either inside or in the backyard, I’m able to find a sliver of privacy by the side of the house. Lucas closes the gate, leaving us in near darkness, the only source of light coming from a nearby window.
I drop down onto the grass, kicking my heels off and leaning back on my palms. My feet ache from dancing most of the night but the familiar burning in my hip reminds me that I can’t get away with wearing heels for very long anymore.
Even with my eyes closed and head tilted up toward the starry night sky, I feel Lucas sitting down on the grass next to me, thigh brushing up against mine.
I’m usually not one to care what people think but for some reason the thought of Lucas hating the version of me he just saw back inside has an unfamiliar, yucky feeling seeping deep into my chest and constricting the amount of air I’m able to gather in my lungs.
Maybe that’s why I don’t open my eyes. Why I don’t move a muscle even though the brush of Lucas’s jeans pressing against my leg has me wanting to scoot closer.
“You okay?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah, thanks for uh—for stopping…that back there. I blacked out there for a second.”
I still keep my eyes closed but I feel him shrug beside me and I really don’t understand why he’s even out here with me. Didn’t the sight of me trying to deck someone with no hesitation at least create some sort of uncertainty about this little fascination he has with me?
I know I’m not the best person to be around sometimes. I’m self-aware enough to know that I’m no saint but I think hearing rumors around campus about my so-called attitude is different from witnessing it.
That’s a version of me that I don’t want Lucas seeing.
I sometimes don’t even like seeing that version. She’s too unpredictable. Too angry. She feels like drowning when I know how to swim but I don’t have the willpower to make it back up to the surface.
“Sorry you had to see me like that.” My voice comes out quiet, afraid of Lucas actually hearing the apology.
He’s silent for a moment and I’m prepared for him to agree. Tell me I shouldn’t let people get to me so easily. That maybe next time it’d probably be easier to walk away.
“Like what?” Lucas finally speaks. “Standing up for yourself?”
Most people don’t see it that way. I’m called difficult more often than not.
When I finally do open my eyes and turn toward Lucas, I’m not even surprised to find him already looking at me.
But he doesn’t look disappointed or appalled by what he just saw.
Instead, he looks like he has questions I don’t want to answer so before he even has the chance to try and ask, I find something else to fill the silence between us.
“You know, you do a lot of watching for someone who doesn’t do anything.”
He arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you wanted me to.”
The teasing. The grinning. The constant watching. Those all tell me otherwise.
“I think you know more than you let on.” I shove his shoulder.
Lucas’s hand shoots out to grab my wrist and I think it’s just to stop my attack on him but my eyes widen when he brings my hand up to his lips, gently pressing a kiss along my knuckles. “You’re always so feisty, Stryker.”
My breath hitches and he grins at the reaction. Needing to bring balance back to the situation, I lean in, placing my free hand on his stomach. His Adam’s apple bobs as I slip my hand under the hem of his shirt and rest my open palm against his warm skin.
I feel the way his breath shakes.
“Something tells me that you like that.” I grin.
“Really?” He huffs. “What the hell gave that away?”
I pull my wrist away from his grasp and rest it next to him on the grass to keep myself steady as I scoot closer, bringing my mouth to Lucas’s ear. “I’m gonna ask you something and I want you to be honest with me, okay?”
He quickly nods and I can’t lie and say that holding this much power over him doesn’t do anything to help the growing wetness in my panties.
“Why are you always watching me, Lucas?” I let his name linger on my tongue.
He narrows his eyes, earning a chuckle from me. “You already know why.”
“I know.” I shrug my shoulders as my hand slides toward his belt just to roam back up. “But I want to hear you say it.”
He sighs. The sound comes out shaky.
“You always move around like you own the place. Doesn’t matter where you are or who you’re with. You make sure that everyone knows you’re there. It’s kind of hard not to look.”
I hum, encouraging him to continue.
“You seem to expect people to be staring at your body and I won’t lie and say I haven’t.” He chuckles weakly. “But whenever you catch me staring, your whole body freezes. Only for a split second but it’s like you weren’t expecting anyone to ever actually look at you. Not your body but you.”
My hand freezes in its place, giving Lucas the opportunity to scoot closer. He presses his hand flat against mine, keeping my palm in place against the hardness of his abdomen.
He continues. “I like watching you exist. I like seeing you laugh. Smile. I like watching how your cheeks get red when you’re nervous but you try really hard to hide it.”
This time he’s the one to bring his lips to my ear. “I love watching you catch an attitude. Especially with me, Stryker.”
I bet if you walked over there, took him by the hand, and led him up those stairs, he’d follow you around like a puppy dog.
This is a bad idea. A stupid, crazy idea.
But I pull away, stand up, and reach my hand out for Lucas to take.
And goddamn it, he follows me without a single complaint.
I lead him back inside, through the crowd, and up the stairs.
He doesn’t say a word, not until I usher him into an empty room and close the door behind us.
I flick on the lights before I notice there’s a neatly made bed and decide that this will suffice because there’s no way in hell I can wait any longer to have Lucas all to myself.
“So, how many drinks have you had exactly?” Lucas awkwardly chuckles, hand going to scratch the back of his neck.
God, he’s so fucking adorable.
“Definitely not enough to cloud my judgement.”
But he doesn’t move. Instead, his eyes scan over me, looking for any signs that I might be lying, I’m sure.
I toss my discarded heels to the floor and walk over to stand in front of Lucas but he doesn’t reach for me this time, so I’m the one to do it. My hands slip around his waist and I place a gentle kiss on the side of his neck. “I want you, Lucas. Don’t you want me?”
“Fuck.” His hands shoot out to grip my hips as he sighs, like being this close to me is causing him actual pain.
Good.
“I do want you.” He swallows. “I want you so fucking bad. You’re all I’ve been thinking about.”
I place another kiss on his neck and pull away just enough to look him in his eyes. They’re cloudy, but not from drinking. I haven’t seen him reach for anything all night. No, this is something different. Something more. Something that has me pressing my body closer to his.
“Then show me what you’re going to do about it,” I whisper.
One second I’m standing, the next, Lucas is lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands grip my ass, hard. Determined. Before finally crashing his lips into mine.
He tastes of mint and sugar from whatever soda he had earlier, the spicy scent of his cologne flooding my senses. He groans into me and the sound vibrates against my own mouth. One of my hands grips onto the fabric of his shirt tightly, the other resting on the side of his neck, needing him closer.
Lucas walks us to the bed where he drops me down and I land on the mattress with a bounce. He then quickly pulls his shirt over his head in one motion before joining me.
I lean back on my elbows, watching him place desperate kisses on my ankle and all the way up to my thighs. My breaths come out quick and shallow.
I’ve seen Lucas shirtless before. In the weight room at the ice rink or when he decides he doesn’t need a shirt to lift weights at the gym he likes to follow me to.
But every time I’m granted an unfiltered view of his dark skin, his athletic build, or the curve of his waist, my mind asks me why I ever thought it was a good idea to stay away from Lucas for this long.
“Can I taste you?” Lucas looks up at me, his head now between my parted thighs. “Fuck, please, Princess. I need it. I need to know what you taste like.”
Who am I to keep someone from their needs?
One frantic nod of my head has Lucas hiking up my dress and peeling off my panties. I yelp when he tugs at my thighs, pulling my legs further apart. He doesn’t give me time to do or say much of anything before his lips are on me. His tongue, long, wet, and warm against me, sets my body on fire.
“Oh my fucking god,” he groans against me. “I knew you’d taste so fucking good.”
I whine, my fingers tugging at his black curls, probably ruining the otherwise perfect ringlets but when his tongue circles my clit, I don’t seem to care about that anymore.
I whine. “Please don’t stop, Lucas.”