by LuAnn McLane
“Luke.” I put a finger to his lips. “Just stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Talking. We can talk, think, and worry . . . later. Much, much later.”
“What about dinner?”
“It will keep.”
“It smells amazing.”
“So do you.”
Luke laughs and then kisses the tip of my nose. “I really have missed you so much, Macy. Maybe it took you leaving town to finally wake my sorry ass up. I’m the one who needed to get whacked upside the head.”
“Well then, let’s not waste another minute.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
After I stand up from the sofa, Luke surprises me by scooping me up in his arms once again. “I’m fine,” I protest. “Luckily I have a hard head.”
“I want to carry you.” He laughs again as he heads down the hallway but then stops at the entrance to the room. ”Um, Houston, we have a problem,” he says while looking at the pile of clothing. “There is a bed beneath all of that, right?”
“Ohmigosh, there must have been a tornado when we weren’t lookin’.”
“Right . . .” He grins at me.
“Okay, this is embarrassing but I was tryin’ to find the right outfit to impress you and as you can see I was having a bit of a dilemma.”
“I kinda like what you have on. It was on top of the pile.”
“Oh stop!”
“I’m serious.” He eases me down slowly letting my body slide against his. “But I like what you have on beneath the shirt even better.”
I wish I had a sexy, flirty comeback but instead I blush like crazy. When I look down at the floor Luke tilts my chin up. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I’m such a . . . I don’t know, a dork.”
“For blushing?” Luke tucks a wavy lock of hair behind my ear. “Macy, I’ll take wholesome and shy over bold and brazen any day of the week.”
“But . . .”
He frowns. “But what?”
I shake my head. “Nothin’.” I decide not to point out that I’m not gorgeous and sophisticated like other women he’s dated or that he could be on the cover of a fitness magazine and I’m just . . . me.
“Macy are you having doubts, because—”
“No!” I answer so quickly and firmly that he laughs.
“Good. Now let’s toss this mountain of clothing onto the floor.”
With a giggle that’s not nervous this time but pure joy I start throwing the clothing up in the air as though it’s confetti. With a whoop and a holler Luke joins in until the bedspread and pillows are visible.
“Wow, it was made beneath all that stuff,” Luke observes with a grin, but when he turns back to me his blue eyes gaze at me with such heat that I really do feel sexy . . . desirable. “Let’s add some more clothes to the pile.” He tugs his shirt over his head and flings it to the floor.
My, my my . . . I draw in a breath at the sight of his beautiful bare chest. Wide shoulders, powerful arms are the result of years of farm work and football. A light dusting of black hair covers defined pectoral muscles and thins to an enticing line ending at his leather belt. His golden summer tan looks smooth and oh so touchable . . .
Unable to help myself I step closer and run a fingertip down the center of his chest all the way to his jeans. He sucks in a breath, causing a delectable tightening of his abs. “Very nice,” I tell him. Because he’s so darned tall I have to tilt my head back, but when I withdraw my finger, he reaches out and places both of my hands on his warm chest.
“I like it when you touch me. Do it some more.”
“Not a problem.” Sliding my hands over his warm, smooth skin is something I’ve been longing to do. When I gently rake my fingernails through the dark chest hair, he sucks in another shaky breath. Feeling bold, I lean in and swirl my tongue over one pebbled nipple and then the other while I slide my palms up his back enjoying the ripple of muscle when he moves.
“Macy . . .” He moans my name when I lightly bite his nipple and then soothe it with a moist kiss. “Your clothes need to end up in the pile . . .” He gestures with a sideways nod of his head.
“I know,” I tell him with a smile while I squelch the little pang of fear that comes with Luke seeing me . . . naked. Unlike him I would not be on the cover of a fitness magazine . . . okay, or any magazine for that matter. I don’t want to be one of those girls whom people point to and say, “How’d she land him?” But I’ve come this far, wanted him for so long that I refuse to let my insecurities ruin the moment.
“Need help?” Luke asks, but when he reaches for the edge of my Hootertown Hornets shirt I brush his hands away while the sexpot in me that I never knew existed rises to the occasion.
Thank you, God.
“You first.” With shaky fingers I unbuckle his belt and slide it through the loops, tossing it to the side with reckless abandon. Then I teasingly slide my fingers along the inside of his waistband until his abs quiver and he moans in protest.
“Macy, you’re killin’ me,” he informs me, but at this point his desire is quite evident. Looking up at him I swallow hard and then slowly slide the zipper over the hard ridge of his erection. His blue eyes are dark and dilated and his nostrils flare when he inhales sharply. Slipping my hands inside his jeans, I slowly ease them over his lean hips and then tug them down his thighs.
Without taking my gaze from Luke’s face I run my hands over the soft cotton of his boxer briefs, which are molded like a second skin to his muscular thighs and tight butt. His eyes flutter shut and he clenches his jaw when I close my hand around his erection. I cup him, caress him until his knees seem to give way and he tumbles to the bed.
“Okay, these need to go.” Kneeling down I remove his shoes and then tug his jeans the rest of the way off and toss them over my head, nearly knocking over a lamp, but I don’t even care.
This is fun.
Luke comes up to his elbows. “Macy, your clothes need to join the pile.”
“Not just yet.” Instead I lean over, peel his boxer briefs over his hips, and shimmy them down his legs.
Holy cow.
Gloriously naked, deliciously aroused, he looks so doggone masculine against the backdrop of my floral bedspread and ruffled pillow shams. His close-cropped dark hair is rumpled from my fingers, giving him a boyish look that’s in direct contrast with the dark stubble shadowing his jaw. “You look good enough to eat.” Oh God, did I really say that?
He flashes me a wicked grin. “Then do it.”
“Maybe I want to save you for dessert.”
“Well, ya know,” he says with raised eyebrows, “life is uncertain.”
“Eat dessert first?”
I put my hands to my cheeks. “Oh wow, I have no idea where this sexpot in me is coming from.”
“Do I look like I’m complainin’? Macy, I told you that you can say anything, do anything for that matter.” He grins. “And that especially holds true right now.”
“What goes down in Nashville stays in Nashville?”
“You could put it that way . . .”
Suddenly grasping his meaning I place my hands to my flaming cheeks. “I should shut up.”
“I think you did mention something about less talk . . .”
“Yeah, I did.” Out of the blue the Justin Timberlake song “SexyBack” pops into my head and I smother a giggle with my hand. Songs pop into my head at the weirdest times . . . Anything can trigger it.
“What?”
“Nothin’ ” Get your sexy on . . . Justin sings in my head.
“Oh, no you don’t. Tell me.”
Get your sexy on. “How about if I show you instead?”
“Works for me,” he teases, but then says, “Seriously, Macy, just kick back and be yourself. No worries. No inhibitions. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper to him. Then, with a pounding heart I grasp the edges of my Hootertown shirt and tug it over my head, wincing when the fabric grazes my tender bump. When Luke sucks in a
breath I give a silent thanks to Lilly for ordering me to wear the black bra.
“Let me help.” Luke pushes up from his elbows and scoots to the edge of the bed. I notice that his fingers have a slight tremble when he reaches for the waistband of my jeans. He makes quick work of the snap and zipper but then takes his sweet time easing the pants over my hips . . . and then again it might be because they are so darned tight, but I’m going with the sweet-time theory.
As soon as my jeans join the pile, Luke puts his hands around my waist and draws me closer. When he kisses me just above my navel I reach out and hold on to his shoulders for support. His mouth begins a warm, moist trail south and when he cups my bottom and kisses me through my black silk underwear, a half moan, half sigh escapes me. His tongue is wet; his mouth is hot and the thought occurs to me that these doggone panties need to join the pile.
“These gotta go.” As if reading my mind Luke hooks his thumbs through the waistband and tugs. A moment later the black silk goes skyward, landing who knows where, but who cares? Right now there is only one thing that matters . . .
“Mmmmm . . . ,” Luke moans, and when his mouth returns to my bare body I’m shocked at the bolt of sheer pleasure that shoots right through me. With a quick intake of breath I thread my fingers through his hair and press him closer while he arouses me with his firm fingers. He seems to know just where to touch to drive me wild, to make me want him buried deep inside me. This is one of those rare moments in life that I’ve dreamed about, fantasized about and is actually coming true. Oh, but I have to say that the reality is much, much better.
“Luke!” Just moments later my knees turn to water and I collapse against him, causing us to tumble backward onto the bed. While I’m lying there dazed and trembling, Luke scoots from the bed but before I can protest he returns sheathed in protection.
“You’re beautiful,” Luke says, and gazes at me with such intense longing that I believe him. When his bare body slides against mine, a hot shiver washes over me, making my breath catch and my heart pound. He kisses my throat and caresses my breasts until I’m arching my back and offering my body to him.
While Luke makes love to me slow and easy, the word tender enters my mind but then Elvis starts singing in my head, making me smile. Luckily I don’t laugh, which might not be the reaction he’s looking for right about now.
Tender soon gives way to passion. “Macy, you take control,” Luke offers, and rolls me over so that I’m on top. I moan deep in my throat. I’ve wanted this to happen again for too long not to give it all I’ve got and then some. He scoots up, puts his hands around my waist, and guides me, kissing me all the while. I hold on to his shoulders, coming up to my knees and then back down slowly. God, this is so deep . . . delicious. When my legs start to tremble he holds me up, thrusting upward. My breasts brush against his chest and his silky chest hair tickles, teases my nipples, causing heat to build and slide lower. Knowing I’m close, I pull my mouth from his so I can watch his face.
“God, you feel amazing,” he says before dipping his head and giving me a kiss that’s both hot and sweet. Then with a rumble low in his throat, Luke thrusts upward hard, going deep, and then closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against mine.
“Macy . . .” He pauses, swallows, and I can sense that he wants to say something more to me. My pulse races while I anticipate what he might divulge but instead of talking he rolls to the side, puts my head on his chest, and holds me close, speaking without words. The wild beat of his heart thumps against my cheek and I think to myself that there’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be. In that very moment I know that I love him; that there will never be anyone else for me but him.
My own thudding heart beats even faster. It’s exciting to feel love with such intensity but it also scares the living daylights out of me because, let’s face it, this changes our relationship forever. From this point forward we will never again be just friends.
A thousand what-ifs spring to mind . . . well, more like a dozen but it might as well be a thousand. I know that I should just be soaking up the moment and not thinking of anything remotely negative. Jamie Lee always complains that I’m such a pessimist . . . looking for the dark side in the best situation, but I can’t help it. I understand as an adult that the death of my mother and the absence of my father when I needed him the most have instilled a deep-seated fear in me, and that I need to let go and learn to live for the moment.
I just don’t know if I can.
Jump without a net, Macy. Live your damned life, I firmly tell myself, but it sends a tremble right through me.
As if Luke senses my thoughts he rubs a soothing hand lightly up and down my back as though telling me things will be okay. His even breathing, coupled with the steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek, lulls me into a contented state of near sleep. I’m so relaxed wrapped in his arms that I feel as if I’m melting into him. I think of how amazing it would be to wake up like this in the morning . . . every morning. When he kisses the top of my head I almost come undone but I hold it together, thinking that bursting into tears after sex would surely rank up there as one of the top ten ways to lose your lover.
Instead, I inhale a shaky breath and smile when Luke squeezes me in a hug. I’d dearly love to know what he’s thinking and it would probably be a good time for us to begin talking, starting with, Where do we go from here? But then I tell myself to leave it alone and just take it a day at a time starting with right now. I need to quit analyzing, overthinking and just . . . be.
When his stomach growls I chuckle. “Hungry?”
“Yeah, and whatever you cooked up smells awesome. I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble especially after working all day.”
Raising my head from his chest I manage to keep a straight face. “Oh, it was nothing,” I say breezily. “I do have to put the twice-baked potatoes in, you know, to bake the second time,” I tell him in a seasoned-cook kind of way.
“I didn’t know that you liked to cook,” he comments, and I’m hoping he’s not recalling the mushy macaroni and cheese I brought to a potluck at his parents’ house. Or the previous Jell-O mold that didn’t . . . mold, that is.
“Oh I dabble,” I explain with a flip of my hand, which is sort of the truth . . . I dabble in culinary disaster. I’ll come clean later since, after all, my ineptness is going to be nationally televised. Unless of course Cody West decides it’s too much of a train wreck to air, which I’m afraid will likely be the case when he watches the footage. “I’m getting better,” I tell him, leaving out the part that explains that I couldn’t possibly get any worse. “I watch a lot of cooking shows.”
“Me too,” Luke says, but looks at me uncertainly, making me wonder if he’s recalling the Jell-O incident. “It would be fun to prepare a meal together.”
“Sure,” I say with an enthusiastic nod. “It would be . . . an adventure.” I smile thinking that Cody West might not agree that preparing a meal with me is fun. “Speaking of which, I should put those potatoes in.” I reluctantly ease up from cuddling, trying not to feel self-conscious as I shimmy into my underwear and then search for my clothing, although I wonder why I’m even looking for the silly T-shirt. But since Luke seemed to like it I decide to put it back on.
“Here, let me help you so you don’t hurt the bump on your head.” Luke comes up behind me while I’m picking through the mountain of clothing. I’m serious about giving it to Goodwill and starting fresh with Sam leading the way as my personal shopper. Hey, if I’m going to start living my life, I might as well do it dressed well.
I’m wondering if Luke is naked or in his underwear but I can’t bring myself to turn around and peek. Just the thought is enough to make me go weak in the knees yet again. I can, however, feel the heat of his body so close to mine and it’s all I can do not to lean back against him instead of raising my arms so that he can assist me.
“Careful,” he warns. “We should have iced it longer.” Before pulling the shirt over my head he kisses
my shoulder and makes his way up my neck. This time I can’t help myself and I lean back, loving the feeling of his bare body pressed against mine. “Macy,” he says so seriously that all of my senses go on full alert.
“Yes?”
“You might have suffered a concussion.”
“You think so?” I’m a little embarrassed that I sound so breathless. I’ve discovered that he is wearing underwear but still . . .
He clears his throat. “I should stay with you tonight and wake you every few hours. You know, for safety’s sake.”
Oh how I want him to stay but I’m having a mini-panic attack at the thought of him sleeping in the same bed. I mean, what if I snore? Personally I don’t think I do but Jamie Lee has complained about it on occasion. Or what if I drool? Talk in my sleep? Hog the covers?
Pass gas!
I look at the pile of clothing and know that there isn’t one doggone sexy nightie either. Well damn. Yep, that whole pile’s going to go. And then there’s the issue of him seeing me in the morning. Not a pretty sight. And before coffee or a Mountain Dew I’m just plain stupid.
“Macy?”
I swallow hard. “Um, sure. Yes. You should stay. For safety’s sake.”
“Good, I’m glad that you agree. Now, let’s eat this amazing dinner you’ve cooked up.”
I turn around and smile after he helps me on with my shirt. My head is only a little tender so I’m sure that there’s no danger of my lapsing into a coma or whatever concussions cause, and I wonder if it was a ploy on Luke’s part to get to stay. Dare I hope that it was an excuse to spend the night with me?
Oh . . . lordy, I’ll just have to stay awake so I don’t do anything gross in my sleep. Then I’ll sneak into the bathroom early, brush my teeth, shower, and put on makeup before Luke even wakes up. There now, that’s a good plan. Problem solved.