Page 74 of The Lucky List
“Since the hospital.”
“When I ran into a wall?”
“Aye.”
“The whole time?”
“The whole time.” His eyes are filled with warmth as he strokes my cheek.
Maybe I can tell him. It’s clear that I mean a lot to him, that he might even love me. Surely, I could tell him the truth and it wouldn’t blow up in my face. Maybe this is the time when Lady Luck is finally on my side.
“I wasn’t lying each time I told you how I felt. It took everything in me to hold back how deep my longing runs for you. I didn’t want to scare you off.”
I swallow thickly, ready to give up a little piece of my shell. “People have always let me down. My dad. My mom. My sister, even though it wasn’t really her fault. And all the men I’ve dated. Especially the last one. He didn’t want kids, and itwas all I wanted. It’s made it very hard for me to want to let people into my circle. And my friends are amazing, but I have a hard time allowing myself to rely on them.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but I’d like to be someone you can count on. I’ll probably make mistakes since I’ve never been a dad to anyone. But I will get better if you’re willing to let me try. I want to try, for the three of you.”
I nod like an idiot, and he grabs my hand, bringing the back of it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on it.
“That tickles.”
“What does?”
“Your mustache.”
He tugs me close, still holding my hand, then peppers kisses up my bare arm. When he gets to my neck, he hovers as if waiting for permission. I tilt my head, exposing more flesh to him, and he dives in greedily, sucking and nipping the sensitive skin there. “That feels—” I don’t get the chance to finish that thought before his lips are on mine. His thick arms envelop me, pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling him while he holds me in place, one arm cupping the back of my neck, the other wrapped around the back of my waist.
And for the first time in my life, I feel safe, totally at peace. There are no other thoughts in my head aside from the utter pleasure this man makes me feel. I’m not worried if my breath smells good enough, if my body isn’t perfect, if I’m crushing him, if he’ll leave after. And for once I’m not consumed with my pessimistic thoughts that I’ll somehow fuck this up too.
All I can think about is the way this man holds me like he worships me. Like he wants me more than anything else on this planet. It’s intoxicating knowing I have this kind of effect on someone. Me. A single mom to two little boys. A woman whose body isn’t what it used to be. Whose mind is a scary, anxiety-ridden fever dream.
As if he can sense the subtle shift in my thoughts, he grips me tighter, sliding his hand from my neck into my hair,tugging gently as he breaks the kiss and licks and sucks down my neck and jaw.
The way his tongue moves against me feels divine, like an answer to a prayer when all I asked for was mind-numbing pleasure. An idea forms in my head.
“I want to sit on your face.” The words come out of nowhere and I cringe at my boldness, but he growls against my neck and nips at my earlobe.
“Can you be quiet, a chroí?”
I balk at the eagerness in his tone. I expected some resistance, if not a downright refusal. “Just like that?”
“When are ya going to believe me when I say that I want to please ya? Explore every beautiful feckin’ inch of ya? Lap at your perfect pink cunt as it drips all over me, knowing that it glistens only for me?”
His accent always gets more pronounced when he’s aroused, and I love that I know that about him. That I’ve learned some of his mannerisms the way he’s learned mine.
He taps my thigh, and I hop up, reaching over to turn off the TV as I set the remote on the arm of the couch. He leans down and hoists me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
When I open my mouth to protest, he swats my ass with just enough force to suck the breath from my lungs. “If you’re about to open that beautiful mouth and say something mean about this gorgeous feckin’ body, shut it.”
I can’t help the lovesick smile on my face, and I’m thankful he can’t see it. He carries me up the stairs, down the hall, and into my room, using his foot to close the door behind us.
“Lock it,” I squeal as he tosses me onto the bed, and I land with a soft thud.
He turns back to the door, opens it, and pokes his head into the hallway. Once he’s satisfied, he quietly closes and locks it. Then he walks to the bathroom, returning with a towel a few seconds later, shoving it against the bottom of the door.
I arch an eyebrow at him as he closes the distance betweenus, stripping off all his clothes in the process. “I know how loud ya can be. Want to make sure we don’t disturb the wee ones.”
Why is that so hot?
