Oh!
“I had a whole speech planned out, saying how sorry I was that I didn’t call you back while I was gone, that I know you’re nothing like Julie and I was a real shit to say that before I left, that I missed you like crazy. But when I saw you, I just wanted to kiss you. So I did. Thanks for not slugging me, by the way.”
“I was too surprised to slug you. Plus, the kissing was nice,” I said, fighting the urge to bury my hands in his hair and do it again. Talk first. More kissing, after?
“It was nice,” he repeated, and the look in his eyes had me clenching my hands into fists to stop them from pulling his face down to mine.
“But what about what I did to Charles? And not telling you?” I asked.
“Are you ever going to lie to me again?” he asked, his eyes searching.
“Big ones like that? No. Little white ones about things like how much pudding I really have hidden away? I can’t promise that.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Are you sure? Really? Because—”
I was cut off once more by his amazing mouth. Why the hell was I trying to talk him out of this? I gave my hands the All Clear and they sank deep into his hair, pulling him into me, holding him, loving him. When we finally came up for air, he tucked me into his chest and I burrowed in, surrounded by Lucas. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“I missed my girl,” he murmured, his hands wide on the small of my back to capture as much skin as he could.
“To be clear, that’s me, right?”
“Only you, chickie baby,” he said with a chuckle. And then he kissed me again.
“I’ve tried so, not to give in . . .”
“Boy, I’ll say.”
“Oh, shush,” I said.
An hour later, with a record on the turntable and Sammy Davis Jr. occupied on the patio, I lay naked on top of an equally naked Lucas, breathing heavily and unable to wipe the grin from my face.
“I’ve said to myself, this affair never will go so well . . .”
“Have you been listening to this since we met?” Lucas asked. “Is that why you didn’t kiss me in the barn that day? Fucking Troublemaker Sinatra. You totally should have kissed me in the barn. Think how much longer we could have been doing . . . oh man, do that again.”
“I would if you’d just shush already.”
“So why should I try to resist, when darling I know so well . . .”
“No way, chickie baby. No way I could have resisted you another second.”
“Let’s be clear: it was me who attacked you. In the shower. With the naked.”
“Are we playing Clue?”
“You really want to talk about board games right now?”
“No. Not when I’d rather . . .”
“Mmm, Lucas . . .”
“I’ve got you under my skin . . .”
An indeterminate time later . . .
“I want to tell you something,” I said.
“Is it a list of all the things you’ve been thinking of doing to me for the last eleven weeks?”
“Um, no.”
“Oh.”
“Wait, do you have a list?”
“Oh, I’ve got a list.” He laughed, moving his hands down to my bottom, grabbing a handful and squeezing. Which made me squeeze some other parts that might still be wrapping around some of his parts, and oh my. He groaned, his breath warming the hollow of my throat, his teeth nipping lightly now at the tops of my breasts.
“Hey, I wanted to tell you something!” I protested, sitting up a little. Which was not a smart thing to do, because as soon as my breasts were on full view again, his eyes widened. And something else hardened further. My eyes crossed a little bit. He was still inside me, you see. And oh, my.
“Tell me whatever you want; just keep bouncing on my dick like that.” He sighed, thrusting up ever so slightly.
“I love you,” I said simply. Watching his face.
He froze. Midthrust. Such control. “I really wish I hadn’t said something as crass as ‘keep bouncing on my dick’ right before you said that.”
“Well, if you had known what I was going to say, what would you have said?” I asked, nervously chewing at my bottom lip.
A slow smile began to spread across his face. “I love you first.”
I shook my head. “You love me second. I said it first.”
“But you just gave me a time travel option. In which case I would have said it first, instead of the dick bouncing.”
“Yes, but I technically said it first.”
“What if I told you that when I said ‘keep bouncing on my dick,’ it was really code for ‘I love you?’â??”
I grinned. “If that’s the case, then you’re gonna love what ‘let me sit on your face’ is really code for.”
“Jesus Christ, Chloe.”
“Ring a ding ding.” I laughed.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he told me.
So I bounced, right into my own happy ending.