“Well that’s a good idea if I’ve ever heard one.” He puts his arms out. “I’m your mountain, baby. Climb away.”
The song changes on the playlist, except this one feels more personal, a ballad.Great.Luke faces the mirror and I climb his back, my foot on his thigh.
“This is going to get a little intimate,” I admit, regretting the choice immediately as I sit on his shoulders and then move myself around so his face is basically in my crotch. “Your neck strength okay?” I ask, then explain what I plan to do as professional as humanly possible when your vagina is in a man’s face.
Peering down, I see him lick his lips as he stares straight ahead. “I’m more than okay and my strength is never something you have to question. In any area.”
Cocky, okay. Locking my legs at my ankles, I clasp my hands behind my head and lean back until I’m upside down.
When I’m all the way down and can see myself in the mirror, I flex and sit back up, my abs burning with exertion as my bodyweight pulls me down, and my muscles propel me back up. I try to avoid eye contact with Luke, though it’s hard. My calves are sliding against his shoulders—our sweat intermingling, making my sit-ups more difficult.
I grunt as I complete the final set, the last one, nearly impossible to get back upright. Grabbing Hart’s biceps, I unhook my legs and hop down. His blue eyes vacillate between my eyes and the mirror over my head.
“Your body is sick,” he says, pinching his lips between his teeth. “I mean that in the best way possible.” His chest heaves even though he’s not out of breath.
I break his gaze to hide a blush. “Thanks. When my hard work leads to people telling me my muscles make me look like a man, it’s nice to hear someone thinks it looks sick.” I smile when I use his word. I realize my hands are still riding on his arms, and I let them fall away.
Luke snatches my fingers and brings them to his chest.
“Your body is pretty sick, too. By the way,” I tell him.
“A man? No. You have the perfect womanly body. No one thinks you look like a man. If they say you do, they’re jealous. Your body is fucking perfect.” He licks his lips. “And, ah, but you look so much hotter covered with sweat than I do,” he says, dragging his pointer finger from my left collarbone slowly to the right. “And you smell way better.” His neck works as he swallows and the act feels so erotic. Out of control. I’m affecting him, and his body, and that makes me heady with power. “I can smell you through your shorts. It makes my mouth water.” He leans down and drags his nose up my neck then lingers near my ear. Close enough to sense his breath, but not feel his lips.
Holding my breath, I exhale noisily as my hands rise and fall on his chest. I dig my fingertips into his skin hard enough for my nails to leave marks. “We aren’t doing much sweating.” My words come out in a breathy plea.
He backs me up to the mirrored wall, grabs my hands in one of his and pins them above my head. I watch his eyes—stormy seas of self-control begging to compromise. There’s hesitation as he rakes my body, and he eventually settles for something in between when his lips crash into mine. Aggression plagues this kiss. It’s masterful in its deceit. We both know this isn’t a fool’s kiss or a game where everyone comes out a winner. Luke groans against my lips, his tongue dipping into my mouth as his grasp on my wrists tightens. It’s almost painful.
He pulls away, eyes closed, his forehead pressed against mine while he controls himself. When his lashes lift and his eyes meet mine, I see the finality. My eyes flick to the dome camera I saw in the corner the moment I walked in here. Hart sees where my gaze is. “Still worried about security?” He offers a dimpled smile with his question.
My response has a two-pronged goal. I attack him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and my lips find his neck, his sharp grizzly jawline, and then his lips. The first goal is to satisfy my need for his body against mine, and the second is I know from what angle we’ll be most hidden from security. Not that it matters, or that there’s any doubt about what’s taking place here. It’s merely my hyper-focused brain driving what logical path it can find. I break from the kiss when I’ve pushed him back to sit onto a bench. It creaks as his weight settles, and I wrap my legs around his waist to push myself closer to the hard bulge calling out my name. My mouth is dry and it feels like every ounce of my blood is pulsating in my core.
“I have no idea what’s happening here,” Luke says, brows raised to his hairline, hands pulling and pushing me down on his lap. “We fucking right now? I don’t have a condom on me.” He clears his throat. “Something I can remedy if you give me one minute and sixteen seconds.” Luke drags his hands up my arms to rest on each side of my face. “If that’s what we want to happen.”
I pant. My mind screams out,too soon. My body is singing a different tune. One more along the lines of ‘yes, dear God, let us fuck right now. Hard and dirty.’ “I want to.” My words sound pleading. “It’s been a long time.” Settling my head on his shoulder, I kiss his neck lazily. Anything to escape his probing stare. He’s trying to read me. He shivers when I trade my lips for my tongue. “I, I, don’t know.”
“Do you really want to fuck, or do you want an orgasm?”
He pulls my face to look into my eyes. The words tumble from my mouth. “Sex. You inside me. Both? Maybe? All of it?” I sigh when he smirks because he looks devilishly handsome. I start stuttering, trying to figure out where I’m going with this when he puts a finger over my lips.
“We have nothing but time, Little Dempsey. We don’t have to fuck this exact second. Even if it looks to be like a good idea. If anything, I can use this opportunity as an exercise in self-control.” He clears his throat. “Not sure if I’ve ever wanted to fuck more, actually.”
“I’m your experiment then? That’s supposed to make me feel better about my lack of gumption and indecision?”
I’m afraid of the bullshit attachment that forms when two people have sex. It’s never been just fucking for me. It never will be. Talking to my dad did give me hesitation about Luke and what his motives might be. Dad has known Luke for longer than I have and they have a bond.
He scoots me back on his knees to make enough space to get his hand in between our bodies. Luke presses his thumb to my clit and circles it through the thin material of my shorts—a direct hit on his first try. I moan and slam my eyes shut. “Not an experiment at all. More like my project fuck.”
Keeping my hands on his shoulders, I say, “That’s offensive, and I’m not quite sure what that means but what you’re doing feels so good I don’t even care what comes out of your mouth.” Luke continues moving his magic fingers against me as I move my hips in time with his tempo. “I’m so wet.”
“You’ve been wet,” he rasps at the shell of my ear. “All for me. All mine. I can smell you. I want to taste you.”
There’s something about being owned by his words that nudges me closer to the edge. I rock against his hand two more times, in a gentle thrust and come apart, heat throbbing at my core and ecstasy coils around my limbs. Curling into his massive frame, I breathe heavily. Luke snakes his hand back and pulls me into a solid embrace. “You’re even fucking hotter when you come.”
I laugh and it’s smothered by his neck which I kiss languidly. “I’m scared.” The words bubble up. Hesitantly, I meet his lazy gaze. I’m satisfied, but it’s blatant in his stare that he is amped up. “Men are wildcards. Well, most men are. You feel like a wildcard, Luke.”
“You can’t punish me for my past. I’d argue that I’m less of a wildcard than anyone else because look at the red tape surrounding a relationship with you. It’s not allowed. It got serious quicker than anything else, Aara. Why would I risk my career for a fling? For something I wasn’t sure of? Think about it. Trust me, I don’t want to want you.”
An honest answer at the very least. Luke’s dimples appear. His hands cradle my face, and he gives me a look. One that I have to trust. Because I don’t have a choice.
