All This Time

by Stacy Lane

  My eyes raked over his chiseled face and down to his mouth. So perfect. I have never seen such perfect lips on a man. The were full and rounded and very promising to all my needy bits.

  “Kiss me, Luke,” I demand. Beg.

  “Is that the alcohol talking?” he teases with a smirk.

  “Definitely.”

  “And when the alcohol fades away tomorrow, what then?”

  “You kiss me again?”

  He laughs.

  The deep rumbles coming from his chest dissolve as he continues to watch me. His fingers lift to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. The vague caress pulls me in, and I turn my face into his hand. Luke’s dark gaze bears intrigue and heat and worry.

  I question that last one with a worried look of my own.

  “Right when I was ready to let you go, you came back,” he whispers softly, with despair and relief.

  “I let you go,” I reply with the same. A mixture of both feelings for what I thought I had to settle with because of lies. “I thought I had to.”

  “Liv, I’m not planning on ever letting you go again. You prepared for that?”

  “Luke, you’re talking to Drunk Liv, so she’s totally ready for that.”

  “Is Drunk Liv your inner conscience who spills all your secrets?” He grins.

  “Basically,” I shrug nonchalant.

  Oh you just wait, Drunk Liv, you’ll be kissing your own ass in the morning.

  The hand cupping my face slips around my neck. Luke leans his face down to mine, and I can picture Joy bouncing around and cranking the new Luke machine up to a million.

  He holds tight and kisses hard. All the air leaves my lungs. I was living and breathing off him.

  The other hand closes around my hip. I part my lips and allow him to deepen the kiss. My fingers burying themselves in his hair.

  I always thought the most intense thing about Luke was his eyes. But I had been wrong. It’s his mouth. His kiss takes ahold of me like a vice. Everything else around me ceased to exist. All I can think about or feel is my body’s reaction. And all the ways I want to get the same result out of him.

  His tongue dips inside my mouth, a groan tearing through our tantalizing connection. My fingers dig and pull to somehow get us closer, but there’s no room left between us. Not from this angle, anyway. And I want to fill every space there is to fill.

  My legs shift beneath me, lifting onto my knees and throwing a leg over his lap. The skirt stretches too tight.

  “Goddamn leather,” I grumble.

  Luke fixes my problem by sliding his rough hands up my thighs, pulling the skirt with them. It bunches at my hips, riding higher when I seat myself fully in his lap. My soft spots are only covered by a thin strip of lace. Bare thighs scrap his rugged jeans, and meet Luke’s hardness between us.

  His evident response feels incredible beneath me. Magnificent and engorged, and I haven’t even seen what he’s packing with my own eyes.

  Our lips find each other again. I grind down with a flick of my hips, releasing another moan from the pleasure our bodies ignite.

  Maybe it’s the liquor enhancing my hormones, that’s what regular old Liv will want to believe, but I’ve never felt this way. Unhinged and raw. Able to shut the world out. There are no worries or excuses to come up with. It’s dangerous. But the beauty is, for once I can’t find a reason to care.

  Kissing Luke gives me a freedom I’m not allowed to feel. Ever. Every day I’m locked up tight with responsibility and stress and loneliness. Surrounded by people, but always alone. Then he touches me. Our lips connect, our hands intertwine, or the brush of his finger running along my jaw, it doesn’t matter how, but Luke touching me sets me free.

  It’s a glimpse at the woman I’ve always wanted to be. I left home, had a baby, and conquered insecurities by myself that I will never regret, but in all of that I still never found myself at the fullest capacity I can be. I’m independent and strong and this realization that a man makes me a better woman combats every thing I thought I believed.

  But if he were a woman, would I blink an eye? I can’t blame this fulfillment on his sex. It’s simply my soul reaching out for a partner.

  As my body begs Luke to take more, I beg the Liv that wakes up tomorrow morning to remember this moment.

  The freedom.

  He palms my ass. His bare hands gripping my naked cheeks has us both spiraling out of control.

  “Fuck. Liv.” Luke’s snakes one hand into my hair, tugging at the roots and pulling me away enough to meet my hungry eyes. With another curse, he attacks my mouth fast and hard. Separating and drawing an angry growl from deep in my chest, he asks, “How drunk are you?”

  “Hardly,” I lie.

  He plants his forehead to mine with a groan.

  “We have to stop.”

  “Why?” I whine.

  “For starters, this isn’t our couch.”

  I stare down at the accusing drown fabric, ready to torch the damn thing.

  “You’re drunk, I’m sober. That’s not how I want us to start.”

  “Me being drunk may be the only way we start.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he cocks his brow with indignation.

  “Nothing,” I mutter.

  “If you think I don’t know what you’ll be blaming yourself with in the morning, then you have a lot to learn.” I hear his words, but my focus is his mouth and the wicked things we could be doing. “I know your weakness,” he whispers, causing my eyes to snap to attention. “And when you argue this tomorrow, which you will, I plan on shutting you up with my mouth.”

  “Normally, I’d hate every word you just said, but right now it only turns me on more.”

  He brings both hands to my face, cupping it fully and running his thumbs across my bottom lip. Luke’s eager, molten gaze devours every place his eyes fall upon.

  I’m going to kiss him again.

  I’m going to bring him to his knees.

  I’m going to—

  A throat clearing at the entrance of the family room has me jumping out of Luke’s lap.

  I fling myself—bare ass and all—into the cushions while frantically shoving my skirt back down.

  A pair of mussed heads and bodies grin at Luke and I.

  “We run a frat house, honey,” Paul teases, wrapping an arm around Della.

  I mewl, burying my face in Luke’s arm.

  “Do I need to buy a new couch?” Paul asks without remorse.

  “No, but I may offer to buy this one off of you for sentimental reasons.”

  “Luke,” I ground out, causing him to join Paul in his laughter.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” he says to Luke.

  “Take your time,” Della chimes in.

  “Oh my God,” I whine some more.

  When I hear the front door click closed, I lift my head to look at Luke.

  “Now I don’t feel bad that you will be going to bed with a raging boner,” I glare at him.

  “Me? What’d I do?” he laughs with disbelief, pointing a finger at the center of his chest.

  “Incorrigible,” I mutter, shaking my head at him.

  Luke keeps smiling. Dropping the hand at his chest to my leg thrown around his as I fell to the side, he runs a smooth caress from ankle to calf.

  Flutters slowed, but never really fled. The butterflies speed back up as I watch his intense gaze locked on me.

  “Drink lots of water before you go to bed,” he says. That’s not what I was expecting at all. “It’ll help lesson the hangover.”

  I nod. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Please, don’t,” he replies. “Bad enough I’m already going to bed with a raging boner. I don’t need to watch you walk away in this fucking skirt that should be burned.” For emphasis, he runs his hands over my leather covered hips.

  “I think this just became my favorite piece of clothing. Glad Della’s letting me keep it.”

  We stand, and I walk him to the front door. Before
he opens it, he throws me against it and kisses me one final time.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Luke purrs into my mouth.

  “I’ll likely be avoiding you.”

  “I love your honesty,” he smirks. “And you can try, but I’m not letting you run from me again.”

  “Promise?” I ask on whisper, in a moment of weakness.

  The playful banter is gone, and we stare at one another with clarity.

  I’m a person who’s always in their head. Always overthinking. Aiming for the best solution for everyone else, and never what is best for me.

  Luke thinks about what is best for me.

  “I promise.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Stepping out of Della’s bedroom where she remained behind with her parents, I had each of my hands filled with the smaller ones of Brielle and Ethan. Everyone is dressed and ready to go. Della wanted a moment alone with her folks before she came downstairs and prepared to walk the aisle that led from her back patio deck to the open, outdoor ceremony taking place in her back yard. She was beautiful, she was calm, and she was ready to get this over with and be married to Paul.

  Halfway down the steps I lift my gaze from the tiny feet hopping down each individual step. They were determined to take years off my life moments ago when they nearly took a head first tumble to the bottom.

  Note to future self: Don’t buy a home or condo with stairs inside in case you have any more children.

  It was the sight before me that interrupted my cautious behavior over the kids enough to loosen my grip—just barely—and have them taking off like Tasmanian devils the rest of the way down.

  “Uncle Luke!” Brielle and Ethan cheered happily.

  I came to a stop before I even reached the bottom.

  Luke stood there in dark khakis, white button up shirt folded at his forearms, and an ice blue tie that matched perfectly with our dresses.

  Good golly Miss Molly. Luke looked damn good.

  Ethan had been dressed similar, almost exact except in a bow tie of the same color. I thought it was the cutest thing when he stood beside Brielle. But looking down at Luke, it wasn’t cute. Cute didn’t cut it when describing him.

  After our escapades on the couch the night before, let’s just say the word cute is buried deep like loose change in the cushions. Sexy, hot, panty-dropper; those were the terms attached to Luke, hanging around his neck like that silky blue tie.

  The alcohol may have fogged my brain and stripped away my morals, but as of this morning I remained steady with my response to him. Of course, embarrassment surfaced almost immediately. Though, not enough to have me running in the opposite direction and hiding out in Della’s bedroom.

  The free time I spent with him last night wiped away any restrictions, and stayed that way in the early morning light.

  Well, I can’t say it wiped away all restrictions, but I don’t want to fight the pull between us any longer. I’m smart enough to know when faced with a losing battle.

  There were going to be situations, possibly a lot of them today with people from town attending Della’s wedding, but I felt ready for them. Worry and overthinking can’t be erased from my system in one night, but it can be met with a strong will to do battle.

  I just had to hope I was strong enough after hardly no sleep. My head hit the pillows after Luke left and my mind turned on like an old film, snap shooting through every scene we acted out downstairs.

  Only it wasn’t acting.

  If I looked rough under the makeup piled on my face, a hangover wasn’t to blame.

  His eyes captured every inch of me. I felt it everywhere. Then he picked up my daughter, kissed her cheek and said, “You did good, Bri.”

  I wanted to express the humor at his appreciation, but I froze. Luke kissing my little girl, holding her that way, grabbed ahold of my heart so fiercely it faltered. That was the picture to play on repeat to get me to overcome whatever doubt remained.

  The swish of my satin dress sways around my legs as I descend the last few steps to the bottom. The kids scurried away to a less crowded area, chasing each other around and around. But Luke didn’t take his eyes off me.

  He admired every curve of the ice blue material clinging to my body. From the front it was modest with cap sleeves and a square neckline. With one similarity to the shirt I wore last night—backless—I was eager for his appreciative touch to run down my skin.

  I gave him a spin and watched his eyes melt.

  “You’re trying to kill me,” he says in low voice.

  I grinned.

  Luke started to lean in for a kiss, but Brielle was in the same room and I wasn’t sure how to handle that.

  “Brielle,” I whispered in explanation.

  Disagreement flashed across his features, then settled in to a patient acquiescence.

  Since I lowered my voice Luke kept with the same tone.

  “Are you expecting an apocalypse to form just because you’re dating her uncle?”

  That was dramatic. And slightly accurate.

  “We’re dating?” I ask with intrigue.

  “Liv,” he replies in a dry manner.

  “We haven’t been on a date yet,” I point out.

  “You’re my date to this wedding. Problem solved.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but wound up snapping it shut.

  “Unless, you have another date sitting out there…” Luke stiffens, standing straighter as if solving a mystery as he speaks.

  “No,” I quickly answer. “If you’re referring to Connor, I ended things with him awhile ago.”

  “I’d hoped so after last night, but we never talked.”

  “Excuse me if Connor wasn’t on my list of priorities last night.”

  “Let’s get back on track,” he smarted. “Why can’t I kiss you in front of Brielle?”

  “Because that’s what is most important right now,” I mumbled with sarcasm.

  “After going to bed alone with a raging hard-on,” Luke’s voice dropped for my ears only. “Then watching you put on a show as you walked down in this dress, yeah, not being allowed to kiss you is pretty damn important.”

  “It wasn’t exactly easy for me last night either.”

  Luke turned to see where the kids were. They had moved to chasing each other through the foyer, behind the wall that led to the formal dining room and through the family room, and back out the other entry into the foyer. At a safe distance away, Luke carried on.

  He stepped forward, leaving barely a hair’s breadth between us.

  “Did you touch yourself, Liv?”

  I debated not telling him, but I wanted to play along with this game. He needed to feel the torture as much as I was feeling it.

  “Yes,” I breathed, answering his dark gaze. “I almost called you a dozen times.”

  “You should have,” he bit out.

  “Now I know to do so in the future.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “Did you get off, Luke?” I asked in return. He didn’t need to answer. There’s no way he didn’t take himself in hand after leaving here last night. “I thought of you, of your hands and how they held me pressed against…you. Did you think of mine, imagine them gripping you instead of your own?”

  I thought I had the upper hand with my play on seduction. Out-charming the charmer. Playing into his game and coming out on top.

  He looked ready to explode. Desire consumed him with every erotic detail I placed between us.

  But I should have realized just how long I’ve been out of the game, and Luke will always have the upper hand.

  “You’re going to eat those words, gorgeous. Right about the same time I’m eating you.”

  My stomach dropped.

  My lungs quit working.

  My throat closed.

  Sweet Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?

  I had no response. I’m not sure how to act after that declaration. So I deflect by going in to mom mode and ignoring him completely. />
  “Kids, stop running. You’re going to get all sweaty.”

  They listen, surprisingly. I check for any new tears in Brielle’s dress, or sweaty little faces needing to be cleaned up.

  “I’ll drop this for now,” Luke whispers from behind. I swear I can feel a feather light touch along my spine, but it must be a fantasy because if Luke was touching me I would know it. His shirt and tie brushes along my arm as he stands close, dropping sweet nothings in my ear. “I’ll keep my distance just until the ceremony is over with for one reason.”

  My head turns, lifting my gaze to catch his over my shoulder.

  His brown eyes swirl with dark lust.

  Instead of answering with words to explain, his molten gaze drops down to my chest.

  I follow their trail and find my nipples pebbled with accurate desire and plainly visible against the smooth silk.

  Closing my eyes and groaning with mortification, I work on cooling my flaming body.

  That settles it. I will never wear another piece of clothing that doesn’t allow the protection of a bra.

  Luke grins with pride, keeping distance as promised.

  Della and her parents eventually come down from upstairs, and the ceremony is underway.

  And the entire time I ponder the least romantic thoughts to keep the girls from standing salute.

  ~~~

  The ceremony went spectacularly. As Della said all along, it was a small gathering. Luke, me, and the kids were the only others standing beside them at the alter. But no matter how small the event was meant to be, the backyard had been transformed in to something fitting for a princess.

  Their wide, back patio stairs lead down to the lush, green yard. She had a straight walkway ahead of her that ended at an intricately crafted arbor filled with brilliant yellow sunflowers, and her soon to be husband. Wooden chairs made from the same beech wood as the arbor were placed neatly on both sides of the aisle. The couple dozen people that were invited filled them.

  Swapping each others vows took longer than the entire speech from the officiant. Soon we were all shuffled to the tent on the east side of their property.

  A massive white tent had been set up, filled with ivory linen covered tables, and more beech wood chairs. It was open and airy, allowing a nice breeze to sweep through. A dance floor was laid in front of a live band, and at the other end were chefs and servers and platters stacked with mounds of glamorous food. There was more food than there were enough people to eat it all.