I shake my head. “Naz does now. I told him after I saw you on TV. He said they’d all assumed I’d been through something that I didn’t want to talk about and didn’t press.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, then clears his throat. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but it’s funny, actually. I heardRemember My Nameon the radio or something. It must have been when it first came out because it wasn’t too long after… And well, it reminded me of that night. I hated it at first, but then I kept listening. And the more I listened, the lighter I felt. Like someone else knew my pain.” He chuckles and rubs a hand over his face, pushing his hair back. “Who would have ever thought it was the song he wrote to get over it.”
“It didn’t work.”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“I never got over it. That night. You. I could show you notebooks full of lyrics and thoughts that never became songs.”
He swallows. “I’d kind of like to see that.”
“Yeah, no. It would ruin the illusion.”
“What illusion?”
“That I’m suave and charming.”
He laughs, warm and rumbly, like distant thunder. “Do I really think that?”
“Come on. I brought you here in a helicopter and impressed you with my dry-humping skills. You’re practically in love with me already.”
He cracks up, shaking his head. Damn if that laugh isn’t the most beautiful sound.
I grin and nudge his leg with my bare foot. “Let’s go sit on the couch. I’ll get dessert.”
Luc perks up. “There’s dessert?”
“Of course. Looks healthy as hell, but the chefs here are magicians.”
He carries our drinks to the sofa, deliberately sitting on the opposite end from where we were tangled up earlier. Maybe intentional, maybe not. I grab a plate of mini fruit tarts from the fridge and set it between us.
“These are almost too pretty to eat,” I exclaim, pulling off the label card. “Made with almond flour and no added sugar.” What the hell kind of dessert did they set me up with?
“They look delicious.”
“If they taste like cardboard, I’m demanding sundaes.”
“You’re ridiculous. Hand me one.”
I hold out the plate, and he takes one, biting in. “Oh, damn. That’s really good.”
“Damn it.”
NINE
JESSE
Luc grins and holds up the other half of one of the tarts, the glaze dripping from his fingers. “Here, try it.”
I lean in, open my mouth, and let him feed me. I make a point of wrapping my tongue around his finger, sucking the sweetness from his skin, rolling the smooth metal ball of my piercing along the length of it. His pupils flare wide.
“Mmm,” I moan. “That is good.”
He grabs another tart, breaks it in half, and offers me a piece. This time I take it from his hand, which I choose to believe he looks disappointed about. I hold it up to feed him instead, smearing glaze across his lips on purpose. “Whoops.”
He tries to roll his eyes, but the second I lean in and lick the sweetness from his mouth, he shudders. Our lips crash together, sweet and sticky, until the dessert is forgotten, and it’s just us again, tangled in the heat of a kiss. I crawl into his lap, straddling him and holding either side of his face to keep him still, licking deep into his mouth. I noticed earlier that he seems to really like my tongue ring, so I make a point to play with itagainst his tongue, then lick along his neck and ear.Just wait until I show you what I can do with it.
Luc holds me against him and shifts, rolling me beneath him. I hook my legs around his hips, hands sliding under his sweater to feel the solid planes of muscle. His mouth is everywhere, urgent and demanding. All I can think is how impossible it feels that I went six years without feeling like this again.
