He moved like he was on a mission and didn’t want anyone or anything to slow him down. She followed at a distance through the foyer and sitting room and finally he paused in the kitchen.
“It’s looking good,” Lucas said, glancing around. “Emilia’s done a lot of work.”
“Um, yeah.” Naomi skirted the skeleton of the kitchen island so she could face him, so she could see past the façade he was putting on.
“She’s been working hard.” The flatness in her tone brought on a roll of her eyes. What the hell had happened? They were talking like two strangers, when only days ago they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. Didn’t he want to be with her today? She tested out the answer by taking a step closer.
Lucas turned away. “Where’s the den?” he asked, leaving her behind again. “Back here?” He ventured through the door off the kitchen, and by the time Naomi had made it to the den herself, he was already holding one of the crowbars Emilia had left out for her.
“This shouldn’t take long,” he said, running a hand down the hideous dark wood paneling that dimmed the room. Eventually this area would be part of her and Gracie’s apartment, once a couple of walls were knocked out.
With his back to her, Lucas began to work, shimmying the crowbar into the seams between the panels, monotonously ripping them off the wall and tossing them into a pile on a tarp. He didn’t look behind him. Didn’t acknowledge her presence in the room at all. Just kept prying and ripping and tossing as if he needed that artless, repetitive movement to give him something to focus on.
She watched, unblinking, until her eyes blurred, until the hurt and confusion swarmed into something fierce, until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Stop,” she demanded, stalking across the room. She ripped the crowbar out of his hands. “Just stop.”
He stared through her, face hard and conflicted, his eyes unwilling to meet hers.
She glared at him, channeling every raw emotion that coursed through her. She’d waited so many years for this man to come back. Even though she hadn’t known it, hadn’t let herself think about it, he was what she’d always wanted. Now he stood right here and he wouldn’t even look at her directly. “I’m not doing this,” she told him. “I’m not going to stand here and wonder why you’re suddenly ignoring me.” Too much time had already been wasted. Too many years of silence. And she wasn’t about to let it stand between them anymore. “So you can either tell me what the hell is going on, or you can leave.” Because she’d already made her decision. She’d let herself love him again. And she didn’t deserve uncertainty.
Lucas’s shoulders seemed to cave. His eyes finally raised to hers, sad but steeled, too. That stubborn cowboy look. He’d made up his mind on something and come hell or high water he was going to do it.
“I have to go back to the McGowen place,” he said. His voice had that empty quality, and if it hadn’t been for the flicker of pain in his eyes, she would’ve been sure he didn’t care.
“It’s better for you. It’s better for Gracie.” The hard clench of his jaw told her he believed that. “Kids were taunting her at school. She got into a fight because of me,” he went on, as though that would haunt him forever. “I don’t want to wait around to find out what Marshal Dobbins will do next.”
As she looked back at him her face steeled, too. She felt it—her eyes narrowing, her cheeks pulling tight. “Who cares?” Was he seriously going to let Marshal Dobbins ruin his life? And why would he go back to the McGowen Ranch? “I thought you quit. I thought you told Bill McGowen you were done.”
He looked away. “I tried, but he made me an offer.”
“An offer?” A sudden assault of emotions made the room spin. “So you were keeping that in your back pocket? Just in case this didn’t work out?”
He rushed over and took her shoulders in his hands. “No. But I can’t let anything happen to you. Or to Gracie. Don’t you understand that? If I’m gone, he’ll leave you alone.”
“Stop pretending to be noble.” She jerked away from him. “I’m scared, too. Okay? But I don’t have a plan B.” She hadn’t given herself a safety net. “I’m all in, Lucas. Even with the risks and the unknowns and the potential trouble it might bring, my life would be more complete with you in it.”
His eyes closed.
“I’ve never loved anyone else,” she whispered, touching her fingers to his lips. “I don’t think it’s possible.” It had always been him. Only him. “No matter what you think is best, you belong here. You belong to me. And I don’t want to waste any more time.” Life had more power when you took risks, when you embraced the uncertainties. Since he’d kissed her that night, she’d been more alive. Terrified, but also expectant and hopeful and passionate.
Lucas’s eyes opened and she knew she’d brought his earlier conviction to its knees. Greed and hunger darkened his gaze. She felt it, too, stirring powerfully in her own chest.
“God, I love you,” he uttered helplessly as he pulled her close.
“Then don’t leave.” She let her lips do the begging, brushing them against his in a hot, pleading caress.
His lustful groan filled her mouth while his hands pressed into the small of her back, urging her closer. She didn’t need his help. Breathlessly, she pressed her body against his, feeling small against the sheer strength of him.
Kissing her thoroughly, he wrapped her up in his arms. She freed herself to him—to all of it—to the beautiful weakness melting her joints, to the quick pound of adrenaline rushing through her. The energy charging between them drove into her, filling her with an urgency to unite with him, to give him everything before it was too late.
Trembling with the intensity of it, her hands slipped under his T-shirt, inching it up until she could pull it off over his head. She stopped kissing him long enough to admire the lean, sculpted muscle mass that was his upper body. Since high school, he’d gained breadth, and dark hair was scattered across his pecs. The sight almost shocked her but intrigued her, too, setting her aflame with anticipation. Lucas was not an inexperienced teenager anymore. And they were not fooling around in his truck.
With the authority and single focus of a man, Lucas peeled off her shirt and let it drop to the floor. Eyes fixated to her chest, he reached around her back and popped the clasp on her bra with one hand, slowly dragging the straps down her shoulders before he pulled the lacy satin away from her body.
She didn’t have time to wonder what he thought before his mouth was on her skin, tasting and kissing and stroking her with his tongue. Unable to hold back a moan of pleasure, she raised her hands to his thick hair, tangling her fingers into it as he buried his face into her chest. The feel of his tongue on her nipples brought on a surge of exquisite tingling. She staggered back a few steps until the paneled wall supported her weakening body.
Lucas kissed his way up her neck, hands covering her breasts, fingers slowly moving over her as though memorizing every detail. “I used to dream about this,” he said, gazing down into her eyes. “About touching you like this. About making love to you.” His lips grazed her jaw and her head tipped back, resting against the wall while she watched his eyes.
“And I wouldn’t want to wake up. I’d fight it, try to stay asleep so you’d still be there.”
“I’m here now.” And there was nothing else. No other distractions. No threats to pull them away. Just the two of them in this barren room, alone in the house of her dreams. “Make love to me, Lucas,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Oh, I intend to.” He lowered those warm skilled lips to hers again.
Judging from the slow seduction of his mouth, he intended to draw it out, make it last as long as possible.
But she wasn’t sure she could wait.
Lips still fused to his, she went to work on the button fly of his jeans, clumsily tugging and fumbling until they’d all popped open. She slid them down his hips, taking his boxers with them.
“You’re not being
very patient,” he accused, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding his hands around to her backside.
“I’ve already been too patient,” she gasped. Now she couldn’t wait another second. “It’s highly overrated.”
Laughing, Lucas wriggled out of his jeans and kicked them aside along with his shoes. Then he took hers down to the floor slowly, lowering to his knees as though he wanted to get a better look.
Legs shaking, she stepped out of the jeans, shoving them out of the way with her foot.
Lucas’s hands caressed their way up her legs, stroking her thighs until her lower stomach pulsed. Still on his knees, he kissed one thigh then the other, gliding his tongue higher while his hands gently widened her stance.
Blood rushed through her, heightening every sense, wrapping her in the lovely warmth of desire. “I can’t stand,” she whispered, unable to muster any power. Her legs faltered. “God, Lucas, I can’t even stand up.”
“You don’t have to stand.” He took her hands and gently tugged until she sank to the floor with him, face to face, both on their knees on the sheets Emilia had put down to protect the refurbished wood.
He kissed her again and she couldn’t keep her hands still. She had to feel him, to touch him, to make him want her even more. Taking the hard length of him in both hands, she pressed her lips to the coarse skin of his jaw, loving the burn it gave her.
Now Lucas was the one faltering. His upper body slumped slightly as her hands slid up and down his pulsing erection. Under her influence, his body trembled noticeably. “I love the feel of your hands on my body,” he uttered between ragged breaths.
The feeling was mutual, but she wanted more than his hands and touching. “I want you inside of me.” She pushed him back until he shifted to sit on the floor. “Now. Don’t make me wait.” She inched forward to straddle him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, fastening his hands on her hips. With a tug, he guided her to slide down onto him.
A sharp gasp escaped her lungs and stilled her body. “God,” she breathed. “Oh God. Lucas…” He filled her—not just her body, but her heart, her soul. Being locked together with him, everything was right and good and so…powerful.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She understood what he meant—the tightness; he must’ve felt it. Sex hadn’t been part of her life for so long. But now she was glad for that. Because it wouldn’t have meant anything with someone else. She’d saved all of herself for him.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she whispered, kissing him lightly. “Not at all. It feels…” Shyness almost took over but she fought it back. “It feels so good, Lucas.” So good she couldn’t see clearly. So good she couldn’t be still anymore. She arched her back, inviting him in deeper.
His head fell back with a low moan and his hips strained upward as though he wanted to get closer, deeper.
She thrust down onto him again, the tantalizing sensation blinding her to everything except his face, his intense gaze focused on hers.
He smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her as though he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her lips. “This is so much better than my dream,” he said through that sexy crooked grin.
“I think it’s about to get way better,” she managed, rocking her hips into a rhythm that gained momentum with each thrust.
Every time she arched her back, Lucas lifted his hips, plunging so deep into her that she lost her breath again and again. The cord of her desire wound tighter and tighter, flowing out of her in pants and soft moans and pleas.
Lucas slowed things down, pulling out the whole length of her and slowly—torturously—pushing back in. She gave up control, letting him tease her, reveling in the game he was playing, bringing her so close, then drawing it out. But impatience flared again and she ground her hips into his, pulsing against him, contracting every muscle until he was moving faster, gasping and moaning and pleading as much as she was.
“I want to see you let go,” he groaned.
She couldn’t even answer. The explosion loomed over her, tempting her body to give in, but she fought because she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want this to be over.
Thrusting her higher, Lucas took her breast in his mouth, nibbling on her nipple as though he knew that would make her lose her grip. The shuddering rush gripped her, starting deep within and spreading until she trembled with wave after wave of bone-melting pleasure.
He quickened the pace—the friction, the heat prolonging the sensations until he was shuddering and saying her name. Crying out again, she slumped over him, unable to hold herself up or breathe or think.
Lucas’s chest heaved against hers. Though he seemed satiated, he held her tightly against him, his arms strong and sturdy.
She turned her head, resting her cheek on his shoulder, gazing up at his mouth. She couldn’t even lift her head. “So that’s a first.” Her voice still had that breathless quality of passion.
He lowered his head and peered into her eyes. “What was?”
“Multiple orgasms,” she said with a lazy smile. “I’d heard they existed but I always thought it was an urban legend. Darla always talks about it. I used to wish I knew what it was like.”
He laughed and directed her lips toward his. “Baby, I’m here to make all your wishes come true.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Lucas couldn’t take his eyes off Naomi. She lay on her back on the floor next to him, gazing into his eyes as though she couldn’t look away, either. Her pale, soft skin was still flushed, the pink of her cheeks bringing her eyes to life. That silken red hair of hers was sprawled around her head in a soft halo. He was still trying to convince himself this wasn’t just one of his hot dreams. That they were really here. Together. In an empty room of this old house. Naked and satisfied.
“What?” she asked him lazily. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Especially like this. Disheveled and carefree. Unclothed. Fully his. After all of those months of looking at her without being able to touch her, this was the richest indulgence he could ever imagine.
Turning on her side, she wrapped her leg around him, pressing that lean body against his, fitting her curves into him. God, her skin felt like velvet.
Right on cue, his body fired up, and all of a sudden he wasn’t tired anymore.
Naomi ran her tongue over her lips, then kissed him, hijacking his consciousness. “I can’t get enough of you, Lucas Cortez.” She pulled back, eyeing him in a way that charged his body. That made him feel like he could live for that look in her eyes—like he could live for her.
“You can have as much of me as you want,” he murmured in her ear. “I’ll give you everything.” All of him. All of her dreams. He would make them happen.
Tears brightened the deep hues of her eyes. “Just you is enough.” She wriggled her hips until he was inside of her again, until he was pulsing with the feel of her tight wetness enclosing him.
Holding her gaze, he slid his hand up and over her hip until it cradled the curve of her ass, urging her closer, forging their connection deeper. She writhed against him, closing her eyes, letting her head fall back, and those desperate, greedy moans escaping her lips were almost enough to push him over the edge again.
“I forgot how amazing this was,” she gasped, bearing her hips down into his.
“Want me to remind you again?” Wrapping her in his arms, he shifted her to her back and kissed his way down her chest as he plunged into her again and again, making sure he hit every sensitive spot.
Her breathing grew ragged and she cried out, then slapped a hand over her mouth.
“You can be as loud as you want,” he said, pulling her hand away and pinning it under his against the floor.
She moaned.
“Louder,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you like.”
“All of it,” she gasped. “Everything. I never want this to
stop.”
He grinned down at her. He wouldn’t be able to hold it together much longer. Not while he watched how much she was enjoying herself. That brought his own gratification to a whole new level.
Restraining himself, he kept the rhythm that seemed to bring her outside of herself. Her fingernails dug into his back and her body seized with a soft series of helpless whimpers. Letting go, he gave another good thrust and erupted inside of her, feeling the release flow out of him until he was dead weight, covering her body with his.
Their heavy breaths mingled as he turned his head to rest it on her shoulder, kissing her forehead on the way. They lay like that for a while, quiet and breathing, him stroking her arm with his fingers, a peaceful contentment ebbing and flowing within him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt this way before. It was so powerful, it was like a drug.
“You’re not leaving,” Naomi finally said. A note of insecurity barely hid inside the words.
“I’ll call McGowen tonight,” he murmured, covering her mouth with another kiss. “And tell him everything I want is here. You. And Gracie, too, if she’d ever have me.” He didn’t know how it would all work, or what he could do to change things with Dobbins. But they would figure it out.
Naomi moved to her side. “Gracie and I had a talk. I think the shock has worn off. She’ll forgive you.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes.” He intended to earn her forgiveness, to prove to her that he’d never intentionally hurt her.
Rolling to his side, he glanced at his watch. “Speaking of Gracie, I guess we should get some work done. Or she’s gonna wonder what we did all day.”
“I guess,” Naomi said in a sulk. “But if we get everything done fast, maybe we can take a shower.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “There is one working bathroom, you know. At least I think it works.”
“We’ll make sure to test it out,” he promised.
* * *
Lucas preferred the naked thing to being fully clothed with this woman, but he had to admit it felt good to help Naomi work on her dream. “I guess that’s it,” he said, handing her a bottle of water. In a little over an hour, they’d torn down every scrap of wood paneling and had it piled on a tarp ready to be hauled out to the dumpster.
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