We easily fall into a flow, both of us chasing the next level of bliss and working together to reach the edge.
My inner muscles begin to flutter as I approach my release. Luke leans forward, reaching his hand around me. He zeroes in on the apex of my thighs.
“Oh God,” I cry out.
“Give it to me, Trouble.” His fingers flick my clit. “Come for me.”
Every muscle in my body flexes as the pleasure sends me into oblivion. I feel Luke’s hips break their rhythm, and he follows me, coming with a shout.
Luke falls forward, but he catches himself. His hands land next to mine on the bookshelf. Our breaths remain uneven.
“You’re amazing.” He kisses the side of my neck.
When he pulls out, I feel our mixed releases trickle from my center, and I squirm.
Luke steps out of his pants, then drops to a knee. He undoes the laces of one of my boots. “Lift,” he instructs, and I comply. He removes my shoe and sock, then switches to the other side. It’s more of a struggle to remove my leggings, but he still does a better job than I usually do.
When we’re both naked, he scoops me up in his arms, and I squeal. “What’re you doing?”
“It’s called aftercare,” he responds as he carries me down the stairs. He takes me to the fireplace, setting me on my feet, then lays out a spread of blankets and pillows.
He leaves for a moment and returns with a wet cloth. “Spread,” he commands, motioning to my legs. I comply again, and he wipes away the stickiness.
After he gets a fire going, he pulls me down onto the bed he made for us. He holds me in his arms, and we talk for hours.
Something inside me begins to knit back together—something I didn’t realize that was torn to bits.
My ability to love and be loved.
CHAPTER 19
SAVANNAH
Sweeping the floor of Mocha Lisa, I pause and roll my head to stretch my neck. It’s been an eventful shift. It was chaos from the moment I got here until close.
My time with Luke yesterday is what kept me grounded through the entirety of my shift.
When we locked the doors, I told Hattie to go home. The bags under her eyes looked heavy and dark. She works too hard sometimes.
Hattie tried arguing with me, but eventually, I was able to convince her to go. As soon as I’m done cleaning, I’m going home and falling face-first on my bed. I plan on remaining in that position until the sun rises, which isn’t far away.
Partygoers and revelers alike noisily amble down the sidewalk outside, some so inebriated that they sing Christmas carols off-key and like they’re trying to make everyone in the immediate vicinity hard of hearing.
The lights overhead flicker, and my heart stops as a chill breaks out over my skin. Craning my head back to look upward, I search for the source of the faulty lights, but everything seems to be fine.
If I’m not already crazy, I’m well on my way there.
When I resume sweeping, a delicate crash sounds from the kitchen
“Hello?” My call is met with silence.
My fingers lock around the handle of the broom, wishing it were the hilt of my blade. With light steps, I round the counter, heading toward the kitchen.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. As I get closer, a sheen of sweat spreads over my skin.
When I reach for the handle, a chair scrapes against the tiled floor. The sound cuts through the air like a warning.
“Who’s there?” I force a severe bite into my voice.
