“Devlin helped me get him to a room right after I went to get him water. Devlin said he’s sleeping it off. He’ll be fine.” He tosses a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder. “I came downstairs to find you, but you weren’t here.”
I roll my lips between my teeth and avert my eyes. Lucas leads me up two flights of stairs. We pass framed family photos on the wall that all feature Lucas smiling broadly on worldwide vacations, with Lancelot and Devlin, in his football gear. He was a cute kid.
At the landing, Lucas pauses. His shoulders twitch. In one smooth move, he pushes me against the wall and holds my face between his hands.
“Don’t ever fucking scare me like that again.”
I stare into his eyes, my heart thudding. I give him a slight nod.
Then he kisses me, crashing our lips together with a wild edge that I have no defense against.
Twenty-One
Gemma
“As soon as it’s warm, get in,” Lucas instructs. “Can’t have you catching pneumonia.”
The bathroom connected to his room is like a hotel suite with marble floors, dark granite countertops with a glass bowl for a sink, and live edge wood shelves. He starts the shower and retrieves a first aid kit from a hidden cabinet. Lucas drops the soft case onto the counter and peels off his shirt, dropping it with a wet slap in front of the hamper.
I shift my weight. My palms are tender.
Lucas pauses and raises an eyebrow at me when he finds I haven’t moved from the middle of the room.
“Did you get water in your ears?”
I shake my head.
Lucas points at the curtain. “Then get in the goddamn shower.”
He turns his back on me again with a huff, muttering to himself. He doesn’t appear to be leaving me alone in here. I follow him with hawk eyes as he sets a few fluffy gray towels on the rack beside the shower.
“Um…” My arms wrap around my middle when I have his attention. I can tell his patience is teetering on the edge of snapping. “Are you—Were you going to shower after me?”
A hot pulse spreads from my belly as he rakes his eyes over me, the protective concern overwritten by blatant desire.
“I’m not leaving until you get in the shower.” He pops the button on his filthy jeans and shoves them off, displaying muscular thighs and curly golden leg hair. “Now get in. Or do you need me to take control again?”
“No.” I bite my lip. “Can’t you turn around or something?”
Lucas stalks across the bathroom, right up in my face. He exhales through his nose, then peels my jacket off. He yanks on the hem of my thin, damp sweater and it comes up over my head. My lips press together as I shiver in a black cotton bralette and ripped skinny jeans.
The only sound in the room is the hiss of the shower and our breaths as steam fills the room and we stare each other down.
“Boots next.”
I swallow past the thickness of my tongue and toe out of my boots. His fingers go to my jeans. When I freeze, Lucas’ calculating gaze moves over my face. He tips his head to the side, then turns around to lean against the wall.
“Hurry up.”
Squinting at Lucas to make sure he doesn’t peek, I wriggle out of the rest of my clothes. It’s a little weird to stand naked while he’s turned around. I cup an arm over my breasts and splay a hand in front of my vagina. I realize as I step into the shower this is totally pointless, but it helped in my head.
As soon as the hot water hits me I let out a faint moan of relief. It hits me then how the cold clings to my body.
Over the rush of the shower, I can hear Lucas moving around.
Is he seriously going to stay in the bathroom while I shower?
Twenty-Two