26. Maggie #3
“Rude,” I said, sitting back on his thighs and stuffing the small bite I managed to steal into my mouth.
“I never claimed to be a gracious host.” He wiped away a crumb from the corner of his mouth.
I was staring.
Stop staring at his mouth.
“Maggie,” Luke said, his low tone a warning despite his hand dropping to my hip.
“I know,” I said, but I didn’t move. I just kept staring at his lips, remembering the ravenous way they moved against mine only a few days ago.
“You have some chocolate,” he said, pointing to the corner of his mouth.
I wiped at my own.
“Other side,” he said, reaching to my face and swiping it away with his thumb. His gaze held mine as he sucked the chocolate off it. The jerk knew exactly what he was doing. And it was working.
“Hey, give that back. You’ve already eaten enough of that cookie,” I insisted, gripping his cheeks and giving in at last without much forethought.
He didn’t resist my impulsive kiss but met it with his own enthusiasm. Our mouths moved as though they were simply picking up from where they’d left off the other night. Before he called that kiss a mistake.
“Mistake my ass,” I murmured, scooting forward in his lap as I slid my hands up the back of his neck. He groaned as I rocked my hips, grinding against him. “Is that a lightsaber in your pocket, or you just glad to see me?”
Luke’s light eyes darkened a shade, drenching with sheer desire. “What are you doing to me?” he growled, sliding his hands up the inside of my shirt.
I lifted back to my knees as his mouth moved down my neck and along my collarbone. His fingers made quick work of unclasping my bra. I shamelessly ground my core against his hard tip as his hands roamed beneath the shirt.
This was a bad idea.
The worst idea.
And yet, I arched readily against his touch as his palms slid up my stomach.
His fingertips dipped below the bottom edge of my loosened bra, and I whimpered as they grazed my pebbled nipples.
He pressed his mouth through two layers of fabric and bit down gently, capturing the nipple between his teeth.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper-panted.
“Name’s Luke, but I don’t mind if you call me God.”
“Shut up,” I said on a laugh, sliding a hand between us and cupping his hard length. Fuck me. What kind of weapon was that man hiding beneath this soft, stretchy fabric?
The light came on before I could find out, blinding us both.
“What the—”
My dog stood near the light switch, glaring at us both.
“Um, I think we woke Ellie up.”
“You sure?” Luke said, tugging my shirt back into place, his eyes locked on my dog.
“Because this reminds me an awful lot of the time I got caught making out with Callie Parsons in her basement sophomore year. Ellie’s looking at me the same way her dad did that night. All she’s missing is the shotgun.”
“I think we got a little carried away,” I admitted, climbing out of Luke’s lap and standing.
Friends, you idiot. You said just friends.
“I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” Luke said, standing too.
“I kissed you, remember?” I said, collecting empty plates and cider cans.
“Oh, I remember.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, and added in a mumble, “I doubt I’ll never not remember it.”
“It’s better if we stick to being just friends, right?”
It pained me to suggest it, but deep down, I knew it was the smartest course of action.
I’d called off my wedding only two weeks ago—he still didn’t know why.
Not that it mattered, because he was working through wedding trauma of his own.
The less we complicated things between us, the better off we’d be.
At least, that was the reason I clung to as he followed me into the kitchen, carrying the empty pizza box and cookie platter that’d started this whole thing.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he agreed, glancing back at Ellie. “I just got out of the doghouse with her. I’m not trying to get sent back.”
“I really did like the movie,” I said, pressing my back against the sink and gripping the counter with both hands. I didn’t trust them to behave should they have free roam.
It didn’t matter that our make-out session had probably been less than three minutes long. The effects were potent enough to affect me for days. My buzzing nipples and damp panties could attest.
“I knew you would,” Luke said, running a hand through his hair as he moved toward the sliding door.
“When can we watch the next one?”
It was a friendly extension of that olive branch. We could totally watch another movie together without mauling one another. As long as Ellie snuggled between us so we behaved.
Luke’s face lit up, and my pulse tripped all over itself. This was probably another bad idea, but I wouldn’t take it back. Not after seeing how happy this made him.
“Tomorrow after we’re done at the Legion Hall?”
“It’s a date,” I said, then quickly corrected myself. “Not a date.”
Luke smirked. “Goodnight, Maggie.”
He pulled back the sliding-glass door and stepped outside. Then he turned, his smug smile illuminated by the kitchen light.
What happened in the living room might’ve been a bad idea, but I’d bet my Forester he wouldn’t call it a mistake.