There’s still some sort of threat that she won’t tell me about that we will have to face.
Later.
In this moment, here at the homestead, she’s safe.
When she’s like this in my arms, nothing can touch us.
10
LIAM
Lucky trails her fingers along the hem of my t-shirt with the lightest of touches.
Soft.
Fleeting.
A tease.
A tentative experiment from someone who doesn’t want to scare me off or push me too far, too fast.
But nothing scares me about this.
Quite the opposite.
She slowly lifts the fabric until her teasing fingertips brush my skin directly. The barely-there touch ignites a fire deep inside me that rages to be released, and I suck in a breath, my entire body seizing in response to the light trace of her skin over mine.
Lucky grins against my mouth, then spreads her hands up and under the shirt, across my chest, allowing her short nails to bite into the flesh there.
Fuck.
I growl lowly and tug her hips firmly to mine, grinding my hard cock against her body, ensuring she knows I am one hundred percent on board with where this is going.
She issues a needy little sound in the back of her throat that only acts like gasoline being thrown on the inferno already raging inside me.
Please God, don’t let me fuck this up.
I already forewarned her to set her expectations low considering I haven’t done that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want it to be fucking perfect with her.
And not just because it’s my first time, but because it’s Lucky.
No matter how irrational it might be, I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw that blue blaze of hair and the flash of feisty fire dancing across her matching eyes.
My Bluebell…
I’ll never be able to look at those flowers the same without seeing her like this, without feeling her lips and body pressed to mine, without hearing that little needy moan she made when she felt the press of my cock.
She tugs at my shirt, working it up until I’m forced to drag my mouth away from hers long enough to allow her to pull it over my head. Her eyes briefly drop to the tattoo on my chest as she tosses it onto the floor, then she glances at Giz watching us on the bed and waves him off it and toward the chair.
Offering an annoyed look, he jumps up onto the soft leather, does a few circles, then settles, letting out a little harrumphing sound before his eyes drift closed, finally giving us the privacy we need.
I slam my mouth against hers again, walking her backward until her knees hit the bed and she sinks down onto it. Her hands fumble at my waist to get the button of my jeans free and the zipper down, but I capture her wrist before she can slide her hand into the denim.
“Why am I the only one getting naked?”
Lucky’s luscious curves have been a constant source of my fantasies since I saw those thick hips swaying their way across the diner toward me, and my hands itch to touch them, to run all over every inch of her.
The corners of her lips twitch, her eyes blazing with promise, and I release her wrist slowly. She reaches down and grabs the hem of her own shirt, then drags it up over her head and tosses it behind her.
