Unable to help myself, I thrust against her clit, the friction sending fissions of heat across my skin.
A whimper comes from deep in her throat.
I want to devour her. She’s a powder keg waiting to detonate and I want to light the match.
I need to stop. Get back in control. This is supposed to be a teaser. Our first time can’t be up against a wall before we’ve even left the house.
I manage to drag my mouth away, and exercising considerable restraint, I step back. My breathing as ragged as hers.
I shake my head to clear it from the raging desire streaking through my bloodstream. One little kiss and she’s managed to knock me to my knees. I’m not quite sure what to make of it.
Her lids flutter open, revealing glazed eyes. Her chest heaves as she sucks air into her lungs. Between her bruised mouth and the color high on her cheeks, everything about her screams ready. I grit my teeth. Cock aching with the need to pound into her, I run my fingers through my hair.
She deserves better, and I intend to give her everything she deserves and then some. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Abby
Twenty minuteslater we’re seated in a private U-shaped booth lining the back wall of a local Italian restaurant. In an attempt to get my bearings and figure out what happened, I blow out a deep breath. One touch of Lukas’s mouth and I’d lost it. I couldn’t help it. No other man has kissed me like that. Ever. It had been thrilling. Like being claimed and possessed, like everything I’d ever dreamed about but was too afraid to hope for.
I’d loved every second of it.
Unfortunately, the mood had turned.
Lukas almost seemed angry when we’d left the house and the car ride to the restaurant had been filled with tense silence. When we’d walked to the table in the Tuscan-decorated restaurant, he’d held my elbow with ruthless efficiency.
Since we sat down, he’s barely spoken.
The only explanation I can come up with is that I’d been far too eager. Maybe my inexperience had shown and now he regretted asking me to dinner?
Well, it was good while it lasted. At least now I understand what it means to be kissed properly. I have something to compare. I’d know how it’s supposed to feel the next time a man kisses me. A small consolation but it is something. I can live with it.
It’s progress, right?
I squeeze my hands tight in my lap. Above all else I’m a realist, and even as I’d gotten ready I’d known he might end up not wanting me. It’s all part of the process. It had been silly to think a tight dress and makeup done at the Mac counter would be enough to change his mind about me.
Now I have to do the right thing and let him off the hook. I can’t force the poor guy to have sex with me.
The waiter comes over and Lukas orders a bottle of wine without consulting the menu, letting me know I’m not the first woman he’s brought here.
I stare down at the empty white plate to gather my courage.
I refuse to feel sorry for myself. No, that’s the old me. The new me takes my punches then climbs right back into the ring.
Change is hard, but I’m committed and this setback will not stop me.
The second the waiter walks away, I raise my chin, twist the napkin in my lap and plunge into the difficult conversation ahead. “Lukas, it’s okay. Please don’t feel obligated.”
His attention snaps to me, his dark eyes narrow. “What?”
Here goes nothing.
I put on a bright, cheerful smile. “It’s totally fine, I get it. Let’s forget this whole thing ever happened. I promise I’ll never speak of it again.”
“What are you talking about?” His brows draw into a vee in the center of his forehead.
Hand fluttering to my neck, I toy with the delicate silver chain at my throat. Geez, couldn’t he just take the out I’m offering? There’s no need for him to make me spell it out.