by Helena Rac
That earns me a sly grin. If I’m reading him correctly, he may be just a tad bit proud that’s the case.
“Magic fingers?”
“Yes. I’ve thought of them a lot over the past several months, actually. I may have been craving them since. So yeah, magic.” And I should probably stop spouting words before I embarrass myself even more.
“Good to know.” That sly grin is still plastered on his face. And I’m a little frazzled. Because one, his smile makes him way too attractive, and I can’t seem to take my eyes off him. And two, we’re talking about his fingers. Enough said.
“How about you? Any spontaneous experiences?”
“Lots,” he states matter-of-factly. Just as I thought.
We continue our conversation with ease. No weird silences that I want to fill with irrelevant nonsense. Luke’s engaging, easy to talk to, and easy to listen to. He’s thoughtful and funny and bright. Also, too good to be true. Why is he still single?
We talk about everything, from his life in London, his work, and how much he enjoys traveling to my love of baking, opening my own business, and what made me do so in the first place. I tell him about my childhood summers in Italy and how I learned the art of baking and cake decorating from my nonna. I tell him about how much I loved visiting and how much I miss being there.
Luke studies me for a minute, his eyes searching mine, taking me in.
“Tessa, I really, really like you.” He reaches for my hands and pulls them toward him, entwining his fingers with mine. His touch feels so welcoming to my skin, it’s arousing all my senses. He’s opening up some very foreign feelings that have been tucked in neatly for years. I don’t know if I should embrace them or escape through the washroom window, head to Lovely Cakes, and bake a cake instead. My safe house.
“And forward,” I say after a moment’s thought. He looks at me, confused. “Another trait of yours,” I explain. “You’re very forward, but I don’t mind it one bit. I’d rather you be honest and open with me than hold things back.”
Jason was never this forward. That’s why his decision to move overseas totally took me by surprise. That’s why the fact he never came back was a difficult pill to swallow. I don’t think I ever knew the real Jason. I feel like I’ve gotten to know Luke in the few hours we’ve spent together better than I ever knew Jason. They are complete opposites. Luke’s forwardness, his honesty – it’s refreshing.
“See, you already know me so well.”
“Maybe.” I smile as I take a bite of my dessert. “Oh my god, this is so good. You have got to try this.”
He’s looking at me weirdly, but I’m probably just misinterpreting his expression. Maybe it’s curiosity. Or something else entirely. After all, it’s hard to know what exactly is going through another person’s mind.
“Sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” I ask with an embarrassed smile, noticing his eyes are directed at my lips. Just that look, the way he’s watching my mouth move, it’s deliciously unsettling.
“Not at all. I love listening to you talk and watching the way words roll off your lips.” He grins a sexy, crooked grin that nearly leaves me breathless. I instinctively touch my bottom lip, imagining his touch. “Speaking of lips, I’d kind of like to kiss yours. I bet they’d taste fucking sweet as icing.”
I am so caught off guard by his comment, I struggle to respond. All that repeats in my mind are his words. The memory of him wiping icing off my lips crosses my mind, and suddenly all I can think of is how much I want to taste his lips too. I’m also suddenly very, very hot. Isn’t the air conditioning on in here?
“And yes, I’d very much like to try a bite. Of the dessert.”
“Oh, dessert. Right,” I mumble, and Luke chuckles. I forgot I made an offer in the first place. I extend my fork and he takes a bite. Like, in slow motion, or at least it appears so in my possibly distorted reality. All I can focus on is the way he tastes the cake. I wish that fork was my lips. Or my nipples. Or my…
“How’s the dessert?” The waiter’s words pull me out of my trance. The timing cannot be more unfortunate, but also perfect, because it’s just the break I need to cool off. The cooling-off means my brain has a chance to think. Though that’s not always a good thing.
Case in point: My insecurities get the better of me and I can’t figure out whether Luke is being genuine or whether he just wants to get into my panties. I remind myself that I really don’t know him that well yet, and from what I recall, he did play me, despite his excuse. He’s also very charming – probably something he’s practiced and perfected over time, right? Though for whatever reason, I’d like to think his words are real and meant just for me.
“Is this how you get all the women to fall for you?” I’m sure he notices the unease with which I ask. I fully expect that he uses his charm to make women swoon. He certainly has that effect on me.
“What do you mean?” He appears to be genuinely taken aback by my question.
“You know, saying all the right things?”
“Tessa, don’t even think that, not for one fucking second.” Uh-oh, I may have hit a nerve. He sounds annoyed. “What I say is meant for you and only you. You should know by now that I say it the way it is.”
“Sorry, it’s just … it’s hard for me to know. I’ve only known you for a couple of days, and I’m not sure what to think,” I clarify.
“Don’t overthink it. Just take it for what it is.”
As if that’s ever been easy for me. “Okay,” I say softly, but I struggle to convince myself.
“Does this mean you’re falling for me?” he asks, grinning ear to ear.
Yes … no … maybe? Just this morning I was sure I wasn’t even going to go out with him, even though I’ve secretly obsessed over him for too long. But the bubbly feeling in my belly is telling me that maybe I am. Of course, there’s no way I’m going to let him know that. He’ll have to try harder to convince me.
“Me? Never,” I tease, taking a forkful of cake.
“Never say never, Tess.”
Tess. Only my dad has ever called me by that nickname. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure that if anybody else tried to, it would bother me immensely. But Luke saying it feels nice. So I don’t try to correct him. I just let myself be Tess to him.
“Umm, so where were we?” I’m trying to get back to what we were talking about just a few minutes ago. Honestly, I haven’t the slightest clue.
“You were telling me about your summers in Italy,” Luke acknowledges.
“Right, Italy,” I confirm, clearing my throat.
“So when’s the last time you visited?”
“It’s been a while. We haven’t been back for several years. Since before my dad died.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad, Tess.”
“Life happens. Sometimes not quite the way we expect it. Good and bad.” I don’t want to get into the details of my dad’s death at this time. I don’t want him to know just how much it affected me emotionally.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he says, as if he knows exactly where I’m coming from. I wonder what’s behind the understanding that I recognize. I want to find out more, but at the same time I don’t want to pry.
It’s like he can read my mind, because the next thing he says is, “I know what it’s like to lose a parent.”
“Oh?”
“Not in a literal sense. Not like when a parent dies. But my mom left, so … it might as well be the same, only it’s different, because it was a choice she made.” There’s a roughness to his voice that betrays his anger.
“Left?”
“Well, cheated on my dad first. Then took off without so much as a goodbye.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” It’s difficult to imagine that someone who comes across as confident and lighthearted as Luke has been affected by something so difficult.
“Hey, let’s just forget about it, it’s not important.” He’s closed himself off, uncharacteristically, but I can
sense it’s more important than he’s letting on. Losing a parent, no matter how, is a traumatizing experience. He’s not showing it, though. And although I know there’s more to this story than he’s ready to share, I don’t want to open up the wounds any further. His or mine.
“You were saying,” he prompts.
“My nonna passed away a couple of years before my dad,” I continue, “so we haven’t visited since.”
“How come?”
“It just never seemed like a good time to go back. But I really miss it sometimes, you know? I miss being there. It was just such a big part of my childhood. It really shaped who I am today.”
“Do you speak any Italian?”
“I do some, but not so much anymore. I understand most of it, but it would take a bit of a refresher to speak it fluently again. Since my dad died, there hasn’t been much Italian spoken around the house.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll make it back for a visit one day,” he says reassuringly.
“I hope so. But I’d like to see more of England too. I don’t remember much of it from the one time we visited. I’ve been meaning to go back.”
“Tell you what. I have yet to visit Italy. You haven’t been to England in a really long time. We could do it together one day. We’ll make it a three-week date. That way you’ll have your personal tour guide, and I’ll have mine. You can show me all that is beautiful about Italy and I can show you all there is to see in England.” He’s positively excited, our previous conversation forgotten or purposefully strayed from. “What do you say?”
“I thought we were starting with one date. Here you are planning three more weeks? Pfft! I’m not that easily convinced,” I tease, but it’s just a way for me to deflect the girlish infatuation I’m feeling with the idea. Is he being serious? The thought of spending more time with Luke, and the thought of it being on a trip through Europe, is enticing, I have to admit. He’d be a very sexy– I mean informative tour guide. Especially if the tour involved exploring more of Luke, and his body, and his cock– Argh! I mean Europe.
“Then I’ll make sure I spend the rest of the night convincing you.”
See? Unfazed. I love that about him. No no no – I mean I like that about him. Love is too scary a word for my vocabulary.
Chapter 10
“Oh my god, you look hilarious.” I’m laughing like I haven’t laughed in a while. My stomach actually hurts. We’re at the Bean, since we decided to visit Millennium Park after dinner, and Luke is making silly faces in the mirror-like surface of the sculpture.
“You mean like this?” He exaggerates the look on his face even more. He’s eyes are huge, his tongue is hanging to the side, and he’s making Dumbo ears. I’m barely able to keep my hands steady as I try to snap a few photos of him on my phone.
“Yeah, just like that.” I laugh as I try to copy his expression.
“I may look hilarious, but somehow you still look cute when you do that.”
“Yeah, right. I most definitely do not look cute.”
“Then you most definitely need glasses.”
I nudge him in his ribcage.
“Hey, come here, you,” he pulls me into him, then grabs my phone and snaps a few selfies of us together. Some are ridiculously funny, some are totally serious, and others just lovely. I may be inclined to stare at these for hours.
“I’m really having a great time,” I say through laughter, without much thought. There’s a good chance he’ll use it to his advantage and challenge me on my one-date commitment, and I’m not sure a second date is the best idea. I’d be in danger of having too much of a great time. It’s not like he can’t tell from my massive smile, but if he wanted to test my resolve, I’ve just made myself vulnerable.
“I’m glad to hear that. I’m having a great time too,” Luke acknowledges, then follows with, “So does that mean that you may want to spend more time with me this week?” I knew it.
“I’m still undecided. This may require another list.”
I’m joking. But only a little. That may be how I operate most of the time, but what I do next surprises me, because it’s spontaneous and quite out of character. I wrap my arms around Luke’s waist, lean into his chest, and hold him close. His arms reach around me and he rests his chin against my hair. His chest lifts up and down against my cheek, his breathing deep and calculated. There are people around us, but I don’t see or hear them. I just want to hold onto this moment of quiet, this soothing embrace, for a little longer. It feels natural – where Luke begins, I continue, and where I begin, he ends. It’s like we’re seamlessly molded, just like the sculpture we’re standing in front of.
“Where did this come from?” Luke finally interrupts.
“Just felt like it,” is all I say.
He shakes his head. I’m probably confusing him, given that my words and actions are a paradox he’s yet to completely unravel. A paradox I may have to unravel just as much.
“Let’s go see the garden,” he says as he pulls me by my hand. And that’s how smooth he is. Because his hand doesn’t leave mine. Last time I held hands with a guy? It seems like a lifetime ago. It’s the simplest caress, the lightest brush of his fingers over mine that makes our hand-holding even more intimate, somehow.
We make our way toward Lurie Garden, and after strolling through the beautiful sanctuary, we sit down on one of the benches. The view in front of us is illuminated only by the shimmering lights of the city.
“I want you closer,” Luke says as he reaches under my knees and lifts my legs across his. His hands linger on my knees, just under the hem of my flowy dress, the spark from his touch always so welcoming to my skin. I can’t help myself from trailing my fingers up and down his stomach. Meanwhile, I’m contemplating how to snap the buttons off his shirt so I can touch him bare again. The image of his naked torso from Friday night is still very, very fresh in my mind. And very enticing.
He grins as his darkened eyes meet mine. He brings his index finger to my face to brush away a strand of hair that’s dancing freely in the breeze. And just like that, I lose track of everything around us and anyone who may be passing by. It’s just Luke and me … and that gift bag he’s been carrying ever since we left the car. I was certain he was going to let me open it during dinner, but he didn’t. I really, really want to kiss him, but I also really, really want to know what’s inside that damn bag. I’m so torn. Why can’t I just be more of an in-the-moment kind of girl? But my brain just can’t let it go. My curiosity wins.
“Okay, you’re killing me. I really want to know what’s in the bag,” I say impatiently. “You’ve been carrying it around the entire night. I’m dying to find out what it is!”
“You’d like to know now, wouldn’t you?” he teases. I nod. “Ask me nicely,” Luke demands, and it’s so sexy.
“Please?” I beg candidly, fluttering my eyelashes, giving him the most adorable expression I can manage. His laugh is so charming.
“Okay, but only because you asked so nicely. Close your eyes.” I do as I’m told, squinting to steal a look. “Hey, no peeking!”
“Fine,” I mutter. This time I comply. I gently close my eyes and giggle a little as the excitement of the impending surprise looms. I hear him open the bag and pull out whatever is inside. My senses are hyperaware of all things Luke. The next thing I feel is his finger on my lips, tracing the line of my mouth corner to corner. Top first, then bottom. My body tenses as sweet sensation starts to build low in my belly. This has got to be the most erotic feeling ever. And we’re not even naked.
“God, your lips Tess…” Luke trails off, and I’m … oh, God, I’m a mess of emotions. Need. Anticipation. Lust. All I can think about is his lips. We’ve done some very – how shall I put this? – adventurous things, but we’ve yet to have our first kiss. I just about decide that I don’t care about the gift anymore because all I can suddenly think about is how much I want to kiss him and how much I want him to kiss me. Will his lips be soft and caressing, or will they be nee
dy and passionate when they first meet mine? Will his tongue gently find mine, or will he greedily take it?
I’m holding onto my composure with less than an ounce of control and, rather impatiently, waiting for further instructions. His finger leaves my mouth, and I’m bummed out by the sudden loss of contact. A moment later I feel his finger on my lips again, but this time there’s added something. Something creamy and buttery and … sweet, I realize as I suck on my bottom lip. Strawberry icing. Belonging to the cupcake he bought earlier. He picked it out for me! With my eyes still shut, I savor the sweetness of my own creation.
“Mmm. So good,” I purr.
I open my eyes and am drawn into his gaze. He’s looking at me as if he’s memorizing my face. There’s so much emotion, so much sincerity there, so much desire. He cups my cheeks in his palms and I lean into him. He looks down at my lips, and the moment I’ve been anticipating, the moment I’ve imagined a thousand times over, is so close I can almost imagine the taste of him. The sounds that surround us are faint. I can hear only the whispers of our breath.
“No, this is good,” he breathes, and then his lips lunge greedily against mine. Best. Present. Ever. His lips are full and tender – sweeter than the icing I just tasted. His kiss is gentle and hungry, utterly consuming. My mouth lets his tongue in as he urgently searches for mine. The sweet sensation that started to build moments ago is now fully engaged.
I give in to his hunger and give back just as hungrily. My fingers travel to his hair – playing, tugging, stroking. He pulls on my bottom lip with his teeth and I moan softly. I am so aroused and lost in the feeling that I’m not really thinking. I lean against him and am rewarded with a low growl from Luke. My body’s giving in, and I feel weak all over. We should so be naked right now.
“Ahem,” is a faint but distinct sound that registers from a passerby, and I feel myself blush. I’m sure in the daylight I’d be bright pink from embarrassment. We both pull away slowly and grin at each other, nearly laughing. We are, after all, in a public park. I might have completely forgotten that little fact. Because – kissing Luke.