She suddenly wasn’t so sure she could survive sex with a man like Luke. If just a glance from him had this effect on her, and if the rest of his body was as skilled as his fingers, she might literally die in his arms.
It was a risk she was willing to take.
Beth whistled when Luke closed the door behind him. “Talk about chemistry. I thought he was going to eat you alive with his eyes.”
Harper fanned herself to fade the blush on her cheeks. “Is he always like this?”
Beth shook her head. “No way. This is the first time I’ve seen about-to-erupt-volcano Luke.”
That put some hot visions in Harper’s head. Luke about to erupt. Oh, God. She was going to get brain damage just thinking about it.
He texted her just as she was packing up her things to go home.
Working late. Don’t wait up.
Harper felt a mix of disappointment and relief. Some time to herself probably wouldn’t hurt. She went home and stared at the TV for several minutes before realizing she had forgotten to turn it on.
Shaking herself, she got up and wandered around the house. It was a new experience, having time to spend the way she wanted. What did she want? An image of Luke flexing his jaw as he drove his fingers into her immediately answered that question.
“I need to get a freaking hobby,” Harper murmured, trying to ignore the ache between her legs. A hobby that didn’t involve getting off just thinking about Luke.
In the end, she made a grocery list and a dinner menu for the rest of the week and hit the store. She unloaded all of the groceries, made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and turned in early with a paperback she picked up at the store. It was a murder mystery. A better choice than the romance novel she had initially picked out.
With any additional stimulation, she’d probably mount Luke in his sleep.
She finally fell asleep clutching the paperback to her chest and dreaming of knife-wielding maniacs.
***
When she woke in the morning, the bed felt empty. Luke’s side was undisturbed.
She hurried down the stairs, still in Luke’s t-shirt, and stopped abruptly in the living room doorway.
His six-foot-three frame was crammed onto the sofa, an arm thrown over his head and dangling over the wooden arm. He was still in his clothes.
“Luke?”
He woke immediately and tried to sit up. He groaned and tried to stretch the crick out of his neck.
“You slept here?”
He had to turn his whole body to look at her because his head wouldn’t turn on his neck. “Ouch. Yes.”
“Super comfortable, huh?”
“Slept like a rock,” he lied.
“I must really scare the hell out of you,” Harper snapped over her shoulder as she walked back to the kitchen.
She ignored his grumble from the living room and helped herself to some orange juice.
Luke peeled himself off of the couch and staggered down the hall, trying to work the kinks out.
She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
“Don’t give me that face,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
“Oh, you deserve that face. You can’t even sleep in bed with me now? I’m not going to ravage you.”
