“Are you jealous?” I tease, reaching inside his boxer briefs to circle the head of his cock. I scrape my fingers along his skin, not really meaning the words.
He lets out a hiss before saying on a harsh breath, “Hell yes I’m jealous.”
My hand stills. I blink at him, taking in his features, the darkness of his eyes, the set of his jaw. I tilt my head. “You’re serious.”
“Yes, Abby, I’m serious.” He kisses me hard, and before I know what hits me, he has my hands restrained above my head. He breaks away, biting my bottom lip. “I want you to myself.”
I swallow. We can argue about it later. When I have coherent thoughts in my head. When I’m not a tiny bit thrilled he feels territorial about me. I’ve never had this, and I want to bask in it for a bit, before I set him straight. I whisper, “You have me. Now fuck me—hard and fast.”
“I’m supposed to give the orders here.” He kicks my legs apart, sliding his thigh between them and rubbing my swollen clit. “But I’ve been craving your hot, wet cunt since you left this morning and I can’t wait anymore. I’ll make you pay later.”
I smile, trying not to think of the emotion swelling in my chest. “Right back at you.”
One brow cocks and that dimple winks. “I can’t wait for that, little girl.”
He covers my mouth in a hot, possessive kiss, and I don’t think about anything but the way he claims my body for a long, long time.
* * *
Much later, we’re at my small kitchen table eating gooey grilled cheese. I moan in appreciation. “This might be the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”
Lukas, who made the culinary masterpiece, laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’ve just worked up an appetite.”
I swallow my bite, savoring the buttery flavor on my tongue. I think I love this just as much as I love having sex with him. Just sitting in the kitchen half naked, eating and laughing while we talk about our day.
I smile, fluttering my lashes, feeling carefree and happy. “You cook, you do lawn work, you’re smart, gorgeous and give killer orgasms. I’ll think I’ll keep you after all. Although, I insist we discuss the havoc you wreak on my wardrobe.”
He affectionately pinches my bare thigh. “That dress was a menace, I did you a favor.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll dig out my receipt so you can fund a new one.”
He grins, lone dimple flashing. “Oh, all right…but I’m not going to like it.”
I grin right back. “It’s a great dress.”
He leans across the table, and swipes his thumb over my bottom lip. “It is. I might have to show up at your work one day to scare all those bean counters.”
An image of Lukas beating his chest while walking through rows of cubicles springs to mind, making me giggle. I wave a hand. “You’re crazy. You make it sound like the dress was fit for a Vegas showgirl. Don’t forget, I’ve watched the women you date traipse up and down your walkway for a year. Now there’s flash for you.”
I take another bite of my sandwich.
His brown-eyed gaze zeros in on me. “Maybe, but what you have is far more captivating.”
At his words, the grilled cheese lodges in my throat. Why does he keep saying stuff like that? It confuses me. Makes me hope. Dream. Plan. And I can’t have that. I need to keep my heart safe. He thinks I don’t notice the way he’s trying to build my confidence, but I do. I need it to stop so I can compartmentalize properly. I swallow the rise of irritation in my throat. “You don’t have to butter me up, Lukas.”
The lines on his forehead crease, and he leans back in his chair. “I’m not. Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t make it untrue.”
He doesn’t understand. I’m okay being realistic about our fate and myself. It’s how I’ve survived. I try again.
“I know we’re having fun here.” One thing I’ve learned about Lukas is his mom reared him with a strict moral code when it comes to nice girls. I appreciate it, but his comments are digging into my heart and I have to protect myself. I clear my throat. “But I’m realistic. I know I’m not your type and it’s not your job to bolster my self-esteem.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and he throws his napkin onto the table before glaring at me, like he’s angry instead of relieved. He glances up at the ceiling, shaking his head, before returning his attention back on her. “Okay, fine, you’re not my type.”
The words sting even though they are the truth. Well good, better for us to clear the air so I can get my head in the right place. I nod. “Yes, and that’s my point.”
“You’re right. I’ve never been with anyone like you.” The lines on his face take on an aggressive edge.
I’d asked for this, now I have to pay the consequences. I run my finger over my plate. “You’re doing me a favor. I get it. So you don’t need to keep saying all these nice things to me.”