I'm no longer the shy, nervous Avril who gave up her dream job to follow a boy instead of standing up for herself and putting her needs first.
I drop my phone onto the couch and walk to the kitchen, ignoring the packing boxes tucked against the wall, almost out of sight, and uncork a bottle of wine.
I let the anticipation of what will come spill through my veins like the wine splashing into the glass.
I thought I'd lost the confident, self-assured version of myself. But I'm slowly blossoming again because the guy I thought I'd never have, is helping me take what I always wanted.
The scandalous fantasy from earlier is back. My skin blazes as I imagine Lucas touching, sucking... fucking another man, his eyes locked on me as I watch.
I never considered myself a voyeur, but I became curious when I found out Lucas didn't care who he took to bed.
My own sex life has been tasteless vanilla in the past. Maybe it was because I married the wrong person or I was too shy to say what I wanted.
Am I still shy?
A knock raps on my door.
Nervous energy zips up and down my spine. I clutch the wine glass tighter and slowly walk to the door.
Sucking in a steadying breath, I turn the handle and pull.
Lucas stands before me, taking up all the space in the doorway and all the oxygen in the room.
He's changed since the club, this shirt barely containing the tight curve of muscles beneath. My mind fills with images of them bunching as a mattress dips on either side of my head.
No wonder his bed was rarely empty—he drove people to lust with barely any effort.
He steps inside, locking the door with one hand and reaching for my glass. He lifts the lipstick-stained side to his mouth, letting the outline of my lip kiss his before taking a sip.
Heat creeps up my neck and spreads through my chest, filling my breasts until my nipples pebble so tight the lace from my bra turns to razors.
I want Lucas to soothe them with his tongue.
He will if I ask him.
He'll do whatever I want because he lost the bet.
He lowers the glass to the entryway table and arches one brow, watching me like he expects me to climb on top of him any second.
I hate that I want to.
I hate that no matter how much I try to deny it, I've wanted him every day since the first night we met.
How different would my life be if he was the one I went home with, the one I built a life with?
My heart thumps too hard against my ribcage. Thoughts like that don't belong in my head. I can't change the past, and I won't change my future. I have a plan, and thinking about a life with Lucas isn't part of it.
But the way he's looking at me makes me weak.
I turn toward the kitchen, breaking the intensity of his stare, but Lucas wraps his arms around me from behind. His touch is hot and possessive, and his erection nestles against my ass.
This is really happening.
"Someone's eager," I murmur, trying to keep my breathing steady.
He tucks one hand under my dress and finds the wet spot on my panties. "I'm not the only one."
Two fingers circle the outline of my clit.