“I would know.”
Luke hummed, and I looked up from saving his number onto my phone.
“I’m so glad you are here,” he repeated his earlier statement. Amusement faded into something deeper and softer. If I had to put a name to it I’d call it love.
I gripped both of our phones in my hands and rubbed my lips together. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“I would hope not.”
Silence. Staring. Shuffling feet. Mine, of course, since Luke didn’t drag his across the floor but walked with confidence. I stood in front of him again, handing his phone back to him.
“Will you call?” I asked quietly, feeling more nervous than the question required. It wasn’t even ‘Will you strip for me’ or anything. Yet, I felt more vulnerable asking it. I probably would have choked on my words had I asked him to lose his clothes.
“Every day,” Luke responded without skipping a beat. “For as long as you want me to.”
“I really want you to.”
Luke reached out and brushed a strand of my hair away from my face. “Then I will.”
I nodded and swallowed. The following silence was heavier. Luke’s fingers skidded gently across my cheek, thumb caressing my lower lip until it parted. I closed my eyes, memorising the sensation.
“You are so gorgeous, Haylee.”
“I look terrible.”
“No, you don’t.”
I peeked at him through half-lidded eyes. “Make me believe it.”
Luke’s lips twitched, and his arm slid down my neck, over my shoulder, trailing across my back. All the way down until it stopped on my hip, his other hand joining on the other side. He hoisted me up and swung me onto the kitchen island, nudging me to stand between my legs.
His breath tickled my lips. “Believe it, Haylee. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”
I blushed and gripped his shoulders. “You’ve never looked in the mirror, then.”
Luke nipped at my lower lip, and my breath hitched. “Every day,” he said between kisses. “Doesn’t even—” more small kisses, “— compare to—” he slid his tongue into my mouth for a long, slow taste, “ —the sight of you.”
I wasn’t even sure what we were talking about at this point. It was a good thing there was a lot less talking and a lot more kissing after that. I allowed my hands to wander while his remained on the worktop on either side of me. He didn’t stop me when I started unbuttoning his shirt or pulling it open and off his shoulders, which I achieved with a lot of fumbling several reassuring kisses later. I didn’t stop him when he allowed his hand to rest right where my shirt met my skirt and trailed a line on my skin. Then, a while later, his hand slipped under the fabric and caressed its way up my stomach.
My heart hammered in my chest and thumped in my neck and echoed in my ears. It was everywhere all at once. Everywhere.Everywhere.
I kissed Luke harder, hoping to distract myself when his fingers stopped at the thin layer of my bra. He couldn’t feel the lacy straps yet—just the wire keeping it all in place—but he already groaned my name through our next kiss.
“Is this okay?” he gasped. “Can I touch you?”
“Mmmmhh.”
His fingers didn’t move; his lips did, pulling away from mine. I swallowed and wondered if I had done something wrong already.
He searched my eyes, looking for that confirmation. “Was that a yes, gorgeous?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
Slowly, he trailed a line over the curve or my breast, eyes widening and mouth falling open. “Are you wearing this for me, Haylee?”
“Yes,” I gasped again, burning up under the intensity of his gaze.
“You know I’m leaving on Sunday,” he murmured. “I didn’t think we’d—I wasn’t sure it would be right for you.” He cleared his throat and tried again, his hand now cupping the entirety of my boob. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Red Cheeks.”
