Problemsolved.
Luca’s mouth drops to my neck, stubble scraping along the hyper-sensitive skin at the hollow of my throat, and I feel my toes curl against the hardwood. Of all the kisses I’ve ever had, with all those handsome men in all those gorgeous locales… none of them measure up to this one, here in the pale afternoon light of my empty, boxed upbedroom.
With his mouth and his hands, Luca Buchanan is doing something to me. Something beautiful. Something that doesn’t require a romantic Hollywood backdrop or a scenic, perfect setting with flowers andcandlelight.
I think that’s what scares me mostofall.
It’s worrisome to think what might’ve happened between us, if not for the Macombers’ arrival on my doorstep. Things may’ve made that irreversible leap from PG-13 toNC-17.
Which would bevery,very….
Orgasmic? Earth-shattering? Un-fucking-believablygreat?
No, that’s not the word I’mlookingfor…
Irredeemable.
Yes, that’stheone.
Going there with Luca would be totally, completelyirredeemable. Because once you’ve seen someone naked, once you’ve stripped down to your skin with them and allowed them to unravel you into a thready ball of desire… there’s no going back.Notever.
Thankfully, the Macombersdoarrive, saving me from such a fate. The sound of multiple miniature fists slamming against my front door assaults my ears. We both freeze when we hear the pounding, standing so close our mouths brush with each shared breath. Our bodies are tangled together like vinesofivy.
“LILAAAAAA!”
Their voices are as persistent as theirfists.
“Shit!” I curse, realizing I’ve totally lost track of time. I jolt into motion, pulling out of Luca’s arms and racing toward one of my clothing boxes. I’m muttering to myself as I grab a hodgepodge of items without pausing to make sure they match. “It can’t be four already,canit?”
Luca’s voice carries to me. “Fourohfive.”
I glance back and see he hasn’t moved from his spot. He’s watching me tear through my boxes like a psychopath, brows raised in curiosity. I can see the remnants of desire still burning in his eyes and I know, even from here, that he’s still caught up in the memory of our heatedmoment.
“Guessing you forgot about some kind of commitment tonight,” hemurmurs.
“Harry andPotter.”
His brows lift. “Book ormovie?”
“No, no. HarryandPotter. My next door neighbors. I’m supposed to babysit them starting… six minutes ago. I totallyforgot.”
“Ah.” His lips are twitching. “Ron and Hermione comingtoo,or…?”
I hurl a pair of socks at him, which he swiftly dodges, then return to my clothing search. “Don’t blame me. Their parents are diehard Rowling fans. Apparently they met in the fiction section of the library during college. He came up to her after spotting her red and gold scarf from across the shelves and murmuredten points for Gryffindor. The rest was history. It’s actually pretty cute.” I flush. “You know, if you’re into that sort of cheesy thing. Which I’m not!” I add hurriedly. “Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Luca agrees in anamusedtone.
Shit.
I bite my cheek so I’ll stoptalking.
Normally, I probably wouldn’t strip in front of him, but I’m in such a rush to get ready before the kids somehow find their way inside and catch me in this flustered state, modesty is the last thing on my mind. I peel the sweatshirt up over my head. I’m about to place it back amongst my belongings when I realize, despite my newfound attachment… it really doesn’t belongtome.
“Um. This is actually yours.” I turn and toss it in Luca’s direction. “Thanks for letting meborrowit.”
His fingers twist in the fabric as he catches it. “Keep it. Never looked half as good on me as it does with those legs ofyours.”
I pointedly ignore that comment, turning my back to him as my eyes scan the piles of clothing. I grab a rust-colored v-neck at random off the top of the stack and tug it overmyhead.