He hasn’t been free. Not really. He gave upeverything.
Gripping my ass in both of his hands, he holds me close, exhaling over my mouth.
“I don’t want to make another mistake,” he whispers. “Not tonight. I want to take you back to my old house and make love to you in my old room and not stop touching you once until the sun comes up.” Chest tight, he gazes at my mouth. “For once, I know exactly where I’m supposed to be, Quinn.”
My heart feels like it’s melting in a way that hurts. I close my eyes as his mouth captures mine and he tugs at my lips, sucking and devouring like he’s starving. Moving one hand to my hair, he presses us together, and I feel everything. The beat in his chest against mine. The cut of his teeth on my lip, my chin, my jaw…
And I feel everything that’s missing too. The happiness he used to have on his face when he talked to me when we were younger. The way I always felt safe with him. The calm and ease—and the trust—he inspired, just being close.
His teeth grab my skin through the dress, and I suck in air.
Twenty-thousand breaths.That’s what Hugo said.
What happens after twenty-thousand breaths?
“Lucas…” I pant, trying to pry myself out of his hold.
What about tomorrow? In the morning when he has to face everything again? Is he thinking about that at all right now? Is he even really thinking about me?
Planting my hands on his chest, I shove him back. “Lucas.”
I clench my teeth, feeling his chest rise and fall hard under my palms. “What happens tomorrow?” I ask.
His eyebrows pinch together, but he doesn’t say anything.
For one second. Then two. Then five.
God, he has no idea.
“Why do you want me now?” I press.
He didn’t make love to me the other night at my house, or last night in the locker room. Why now?
Is it because he thinks he’s going to be arrested or killed? Would he be doing this without a threat hanging over his head? He isn’t thinking clearly. Does he really want me, or am I just the final nail in the coffin?
Fuck this.
I squirm out of his hold, planting my feet back on the ground. “I don’t want you like this.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t feel good.”
He should sit down, pull me into his arms, and talk to me, and I shouldn’t have to tell him that.
I back up, and he advances. “Come here,” he pants.
“No.” I swallow through the lump in my throat. “I want more.”
This is about him, and it needs to be aboutus.
I start to look for Aro and Dylan—my ride to get out of here while I still want to—but shouting draws our attention.
“She said no!” Farrow barks.
Lucas jerks his head over his shoulder, both of us seeing Farrow pull Codi away from Noah.
I retreat another step while Lucas is distracted.
Noah gets in Farrow’s face. No one around them is dancing anymore, everyone giving them a wide berth.
I look at Codi, deciding if I should grab her while I can. She just stands behind Farrow, where he put her, her eyes downcast and her expression blank. As usual.
