Page 44 of Lucas & Melissa Falling in Love
Chapter 15
With both hands I crush her against me, one hand on her bottom, roving over her curves, feeling the soft and taut combination of her pleasing roundness. I deepen the kiss, barely aware of the party around us or what Margo or George or especially Will are doing, whether they’re watching us. I don’t give two f—cks.
Melissa’s lips are under mine, part of mine, soft and moist and hot and yielding, plumping and swelling as I press and nip and taste. There isn’t enough time in the universe to get enough of her, of the pleasure of coming together with her.
The need to be together—to be inside her—grows obvious and urgent. She presses against me and arches, positioning her hips against mine to maximize the feel of my hard cock against the V at the top of her thighs. As much as I hate for the kiss to end, as much as I want to pick her up and carry her into the bedroom, the same bedroom where we spent our night together only a week ago, I sense the brightening of the room, the clamoring around us. I sense the tension rising, too, as if it’s a palpable thing with a dark presence, a negative energy that saps life and vitality. I can feel it as I loosen my hold and end the kiss with light touches of my lips on hers, weaning myself away from her.
At my back, I can feel the source of the tension like a whip of discord. I need to get away from here, I need to take Melissa away with me to have our talk, to make love until we’re so spent all we can do is breathe in the scent of our own passion.
When we break apart and face the others, Margo rushes in with a hug for Melissa.
“Happy New Year, Lissy,” she says. George puts out a hand for a shake. His smile is there, but strained. Will is standing with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a newly refilled drink. He’s looking at the bar as if he’s studying the scotch selection for a final exam in the morning. I’m hoping he doesn’t throw the contents of his glass in my face now, but only because I don’t want to fight him.
All I want to do is leave. As I shake George’s hand and we murmurHappy New Yearto each other, I’m keeping my other arm around Melissa as if she’s my lifeline. The buzz of urgency in my veins is still ramped up, even more than before, and mixing with the thick air around me. I turn back to Melissa at the same time she turns to me. I can feel a slight tensing in her when our eyes meet.
“We should go now. We have a lot to talk about.”
Clearly I’ve overstayed my welcome because no one in our little group suggests that I should stay.
“Where?” she says. “To your place?” She sounds hopeful and I nod.
“I’ll have Walter get your coats,” Margo says then hesitates. “Do you need to pack some things, Lissy?” She looks halfway caught between excitement and worry and darts a telling glance in Will’s direction. But he’s facing away and has stepped back from the group now.
“Yes, I think I should.” Melissa looks at me. “It’ll only take a few minutes,” she says.
“How about if I help you?” I put a hand on her elbow and aim us in the direction of the guest room where I assume she’s staying. She nods and leads me away.
Breathing the first full breath of air since our kiss, I follow her, still holding her, down the hallway toward the room where we stayed, the room I admit that I’ll treasure forever in spite of the fact that it’s a room in Margo and George’s penthouse and I’m not so sure where I stand with them. I know I have something to prove to George.
Melissa pulls me inside and closes the door. It bangs loud but she doesn’t startle, doesn’t seem to care. Leaning back against the door, I hold my arms out and she launches herself, landing against me with the sweet impact of her soft body against my hard one.
“Lucas,” she sighs my name as she kisses me, leaving light fluttery singes on my skin everywhere she touches, all over my mouth and face. “I’ve needed to see you, feel you, touch you—in private. I was dying out there, dying of anxiety trying to make things right with Will. I’ve messed up so bad. I feel like I’ve let everyone down, like I owe an apology to the world—even my parents.” She stops talking but continues to rain kisses on my face, my lips, my chin, my earlobes, continues the caressing of my back and sides and chest, sliding her hands everywhere as if she’s taking measure of me, making sure I’m whole, real and in the flesh.
Then she stops kissing, stops caressing, and holds my face in her hands as I hold her against me, close.
“Most of all I need to apologize to you. Do you have any idea how sorry I am? How foolish I feel?” Her eyes burn with intensity, remorse, and shame.
“My love, there’s no need. We’re here now, together. We’ll make up for the lost week in no time.”
She gives me a devilish grin and slips a hand to my crotch with unerring aim, clutching my hard cock through my pants and squeezing.
Sucking in a breath, I smile. “You misunderstand me.” Not that I mind her interpretation. “I meant . . .”
And I can’t think of what I meant a second ago.
She laughs at me and lets go, pulling back slightly.
“It’s just as well. We should get out of here before our long absence embarrasses Will any more than he already is.” She turns to go to the dresser.
“Embarrasses him? I’d sayinfuriatesis more like it. Or it would be if I were him.” I follow her to the dresser and stand behind her, touching, molding my crotch to her bottom and holding her hips as she takes clothes out of drawers. Then she stops and leans her head back against me, sighing deeply.
“Oh Lucas. How could I have been so…shortsighted?” She paused and whispered, “So superficial. How could I not have seen how special we are together?”
I go to turn her around and give her my answer but she sidesteps me and focuses. She’s in her business mode, concentrating on getting things done, the way she’d been when she had to deal with Will. She has an uncanny and scary ability to override her emotions with calculating practical ease. I should be scared, but I’m not. Because I know she’ll eventually return to me.
“You’re far from shortsighted, sweetheart. The opposite. Your flaw is your mile-wide practical streak.”
She stands over her overnight bag folding things with a swift and neat competence that makes me think she might have been in the army once. She turns to me.
