Oh, I know what will do the trick. I’ll channel Yoda. “Do or do not, there is no tr—”
“Don’t.” He puts a finger over my lips, a sexy grin tilting his mouth. “If you keep that up, I’ll fall in love with you.”
Happiness swells in my chest like a balloon and I quickly pop it.Just once, I remind myself.You are only doing this once. He’s being silly.
I go to kiss him again but he pulls back, sliding his hands down and squeezing my butt. “I love these jeans.”
I gaze at him desperately, on the brink of begging again. Why has he stopped kissing me? I’ve been thinking of nothing else since the plane and it feels like he’s dangling it in front of my face.
He slides my glasses off and places them on the table. Then he runs a fingertip along the bridge of my nose. “You have the cutest freckles there.”
“Luke!” I finally cry. “Why are you moving so slowly?”
He laughs at my exasperation. “I’m just taking my time.”
“Why? On the plane we were halfway done by now.”
“This will be nothing like the plane,” he says, seriously now. “If we are only going to do this once, I need to make it count. So quit your complaining.”
I snap my mouth shut, suddenly understanding. He’s trying to savor it. And I should be too. Except, God, now that he’s touching me, now that I’m close enough to smell his spicy, woody aftershave and his soap, my legs are practically trembling with my need for him.
He takes my hand and guides me across the living room, into his bedroom. He flicks the light on and I stop in the doorway, taking it in. It’s nothing like the rest of the apartment, with its white, gleaming, sterile surfaces. Instead, the walls are painted navy blue, so dark they’re almost black. A collection of framed retro comic book and Star Wars prints hang above the bed. There’s a worn, brown leather armchair in one corner, a wooden dresser, and a charcoal-gray rug. The only color is a red throw across the foot of the bed and a mustard-yellow lamp.
He flicks another switch and the lights dim slightly. He motions for me to look up and when I do, my breath catches in my throat. The ceiling is dotted with tiny lights, like stars, against a dark background.
“Wow,” I whisper. It’s amazing in here; so out of place with the rest of the apartment. I open my mouth to say something but he smiles, getting there before I can.
“I got this room redone a few months ago because I was having trouble sleeping.”
“I love it. You should do the rest of the place like this.”
He nods, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do. I decided that when you destroyed the rug.”
I turn my hands up. “You’re welcome?”
He chuckles. Then he steps towards me, almost nervously. “Still want to do this?”
I bite back a smile. I love it when he gets self-conscious like this. “No, actually. I think I’m going to head off.”
His brow furrows and I giggle.
“Oh my God, I’m kidding!”
He lets his breath out in an embarrassed laugh, his posture relaxing. “Sorry. This feels kind of surreal. I didn’t think I’d get lucky enough to be with you again.”
My heart swoops. “Me too.”
He reaches for the bun on my head and slides the hair tie off, letting my hair tumble down over my shoulders. “Oh,” he says on a sigh, tucking a strand behind my ear. “I love your hair.”
He takes me by the waist and tugs me close. His gaze drops to my mouth and, impatient, I push up onto my toes to steal a kiss. When he parts his lips, I can’t help myself—I flick my tongue against his. He responds by tightening his hands on my hips and pressing his arousal into my belly. And when he kisses me back, this time he’s not pacing himself. He strokes his tongue over mine in a wet, dirty kiss—a promise of what we’re going to do to each other. Lust spirals down my limbs, emanating out through every nerve in my body, and I push him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him.
I don’t think I’ve ever done that with a guy before. With Luke, though, I can’t make myself behave. This is what it was like on the plane: he made me want to do things I would never normally do. Kissing him is a different kind of intensity that makes me feel like I’m someone else.
But he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he lies back happily, his pupils wide and dark with anticipation, his mouth curved into that gorgeous grin of his. I pull his shirt up his body and he wriggles it off over his head, tossing it aside. He’s in good shape for someone who spends so much time playing video games.
I touch his firm stomach, asking, “Do you work out?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me sane.”
