And I feel like a heel.
I pull myself up next to him and place my hand over his to stop his unbuttoning. “It’s okay. Don’t. I shouldn’t have been so persistent.”
“I want to please you, Katelyn.”
“Then kiss me, Luke. Please.”
His lips are on mine then, and it’s far from the gentle kisses we’ve shared before. This kiss is raw and untamed, and I part my lips eagerly to invite him in.
I melt against him, letting him take my lips, my mouth, my tongue, and I revel in it. Revel in the rawness yet pureness of it.
I’ve never been kissed like this before, and though I should be fearful, I’m not. This is Luke. Luke, who’s kind and gentle, who would never hurt me.
We kiss for several moments, and the nearly visible passion between us only grows.
I feel that tickle between my legs—that beautiful feeling that I feared might be gone forever.
It’s there.
And it wants more.
I tangle my fingers in his dark hair, run them over the outer shell of his ear, finger the small diamond stud in his lobe.
He groans—a humming growl that vibrates through our bodies and outward, taking over the small room.
All I hear is his groan, and all I feel are our tongues tangling together. All I see before my closed eyes is the lust that lies thick in the room. And all I smell is Luke. Luke and the outdoors and the masculine scent of coffee and leather.
I cup both his cheeks then, deepening the kiss. I never want it to end. Sure, Luke has to go to work in an hour, but we can kiss until then.
An hour of kissing Luke… Would anything be better than that?
I jolt.
Luke’s hand. It’s on my breast.
And I don’t hate it.
I like it, in fact, and my nipple hardens. I ache for his fingers, his lips, his teeth on my nipples. All over my body.
I even want…
I want that part of him. That most intimate part of him inside the most intimate part of me.
He breaks the kiss. “Okay?”
“Yes. Okay.”
He fingers my nipple through my clothes. And oh my God, I think I may burst into flames for wanting him so much.
“Please…” I rasp.
“What?”
“Please… I don’t know. I want… I want…”
“What? What do you want, Katelyn?”
“I want…you. I want what I can’t have.”
“You can have it,” he says, “but are you sure?”
“No, Luke, I’m not sure of anything anymore, except that I want you right now. At this very moment. Will I regret it later? Maybe. Am I ready for it? No. But that doesn’t change what I feel. What my body yearns for. I want you. Inside me, Luke. I want you to fuck me.”
Even I am shocked at my words. I said fuck? Not make love?
“I won’t fuck you, Katelyn,” he says.
Loss travels through me at top speed. I bite my lip. He’s right, of course. It’s not what I need. It’s not—
“I will, though, make love to you.”
“Oh God, please, Luke.”
“But not right now.”
I jerk away from him, stare into his eyes.
“What?” I grit out.
“I have to be at work in thirty minutes. I’m not going to do a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. You deserve better than that.”
“But I want—”
“You deserve better than that, Katelyn, and frankly, so do I.”
I place my hand on the bulge in his jeans. “Are you sure about that?”
“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. “What do you want me to say? That I’ll fuck you silly? I could, you know. I want you so badly that I ache to the very bottoms of my feet. My whole body wants you. Needs you. But you’ve been through so much, and I won’t take advantage of that.”
“Luke…”
“Stop it. Stop it now. Don’t think this is easy for me. You’re basically giving me permission to ram my cock into you and fuck you silly, and trust me when I say I want it as much—probably more—than you do right now. But I’m trying to be a man here.”
“A man would—”
“A man would not,” he says. “A man who cares about a woman would not.” He rolls away from me, sits up, and leaves the bed.
Is he angry? “Luke?”
“I need a minute.” He walks toward a closed door, opens it, and enters, closing it once more.
The bathroom, probably.
I don’t want to think about what he’s doing in there. Then I know when I hear the whoosh of the shower. I hear everything. This place is so small, I can hear everything that goes on in the bathroom.
A cold shower.
I’ve driven him to this.
I’m not being fair to him.
Because he’s ultimately right.
I’m not ready. Maybe for lovemaking with a partner who takes it slow and steady. But for a quick fuck?
I’m not ready for that, and it would probably leave me feeling empty. I don’t want to feel empty. I’m tired of feeling empty.