Page 18 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
His arm went around me, and I felt that familiar cloak of protection and something I couldn’t describe. I only knew I was overwhelmed with contentedness, drained of whatever anxiety I had, pressed against his side, looking into his eyes and feeling him look into mine and right down into my heart. It hit me again that I wanted to see into his heart too, but I still didn’t know his story. I needed to know.
“You were supposed to tell me your story tonight. I know nothing about you.” He’d probably been sharing his story with half the partygoers since I’d last seen him. The ridiculousness of that fact gave me pause, but I didn’t flinch. The martini buzz and his warmth held me still and felt right.
“I will, but first tell me what’s going on with you. Where are you going with yourLouis Vuittonbags,mia bella?”
My heart stuttered, disarmed by his dear words. I heaved a sigh, but found I was anxious to unburden, and not at all certain how.
“I’m going to my parents’ tonight.” I knew full well that wasn’t what he was asking. Knew his question had a deeper meaning, but didn’t know, couldn’t decipher the purpose. Not now, in my tipsy state. He waited. I forged on, trying to get past the lump of messy emotion surrounding the specter of returning to that small town in defeat.
“Christmas dinner tomorrow. How about you? You having Christmas with family?”
Ignoring my question, he asked, “Are you going to stay with your parents?”
I nodded. He waited for me to say more. Naturally I caved under his patience.
“They live up in nowhere land, end of the line. I’m catching the last train tonight.”
“So you’re staying with them for a while.”
He wouldn’t let it go. I nodded in defeat.
“What about you? You’ve managed to tell me nothing while I bare all.”
“My family is far away from here. No Christmas dinner with them for me.” An impossibly sad look passed over him like the shadow of a thunder cloud. I knew there was more to it. I knew I wanted to know. Had to know. Had no business knowing and why the hell should I care? He was my holiday affair, nothing more. Right?
“And? What will you do?”
He shrugged, an already familiar gesture, executed with his customary elegance. I wanted to ease the sadness I sensed underneath the unruffled surface.
“If I had a home of my own,” I dared to say, “I’d invite you to dinner. We’d spend all of Christmas day together.” The strange earnestness in my own voice should have been shocking. There I was, laying all my cards on the table for a perfect stranger, playing the worst game of seduction poker in the history of womankind.
But the unexpected payout came in the depth of tenderness in his eyes, blowing me away, sending my heart crazy and my panties sizzling. I was struck then by the thought, as I leaned in, stroking my hand along the soft material over his hard-muscled arm, that maybe he wasn’t playing games.
He lowered his head and kissed my mouth, cupping my face in one hand, possessing my mouth with his tongue, possessing all of me with his genuine passion. He’d disarmed me so that all that was left were my raw emotions as our tongues swirled in a disorienting cauldron of pleasure, hot, moist, exciting, causing vibrations at the epicenter of my desire.
When he lifted his mouth from mine, his rough breathing shot a triumphant thrill through me. And something else. I felt something more than the edge of the familiar game of seduction. Whatever it was, it tugged at me, pulled me away from triumph and straight into needing more.
“Don’t stop.” I kissed his strong jaw, smooth, freshly scraped of any stubble and smelling woodsy and raw and titillating. Need twitched, then pulsed between my legs.
“What about my story?”
I could hear the smile in his voice as I moved my fingers through the deep dark silky waves of his hair.
“You’re teasing me.”
“Damn right. It’s not often I get the insanely gorgeous woman of my dreams begging me for more.”
I pulled back, only enough to see his face, not letting go of him, one hand still buried in his hair and the other kneading the meaty muscles of his arm as if I were prepping him for a meal. His mischievous twinkling eyes made him look like a tall, dark, and handsome version of Santa Claus here to make my every Christmas wish come true. I squirmed.
“And what doyouwant, Lucas? What are you dreaming of?” I whispered. I really wanted to know even though I sounded like a shameless vamping flirt.
