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I was hypersensitive, already so close to the edge. I moved slowly, gathering up some of the wetness and pulling it up toward my clit, moving in small circles.

I gasped into the dark, arching against my own hand as visions of Lukas filled my mind. The feeling of his weight in my mouth was just out of my reach.

I worked myself, inching closer and closer to the edge. I was almost there, the tension in my chest tugging just right when the door slammed open.

Catching a yelp in my throat, I shot into a semi-sitting position to try to cover it up, trapping my hand between my legs and against my pulsing core.

Lukas looked haunted, his hair falling over his hands as he dragged them down his face.

“Everything okay?” I asked, whispering to try to hide the gravel in my throat.

Lukas shook his head, reaching behind him to pull off his shirt in one smooth motion. I could feel myself clench, the only reasonable reaction to his perfectly sculpted chest.

He shucked his pants off, undressing like I wasn’t even in the room. Sure, his black briefs weren’t particularly exposing in the dark, but any glimpse of his muscled thighs was simply indecent.

“Luke?” I tried again as he threw his hair up and tied it back. Another pulse, reminding me that I was in a rather precarious situation.

“In the morning, Daph,” Lukas rasped. “Not right now.”

“Okay,” I whispered. Lukas turned like he was going to head to the bathroom. If he took a shower, I could probably finish without him knowing.

Damnit, I needed to get it together.

This time, when we crossed the line from whatever distorted version of friendship we had to something more, it was supposed to be different. It was supposed to be a cautious slip into the water, a slow kiss. Not diving headfirst, sending out tidal waves in our wake.

And being caught with my hand between my legs, finishing myself off to memories of Lukas was anything but cautious.

Lukas stopped halfway to the bathroom, changing course for me.

Panic crawled up my throat, but if I moved, it would only draw attention to the fact that both of my arms were tucked under the covers.

Lukas bent down and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of my head, breathing in deep.

He pulled back just an inch, enough to make two swift passes over my stiff form. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” I croaked. “I was already awake.”

“Why?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“About what?”

“What?” I could barely hear him over the pounding in my ears.

“You had a nightmare about what?” Lukas repeated, still leaning down.

I went impossibly still. I couldn’t think of a good excuse with him that close to me. “I don’t remember.”

Lukas’s eyes narrowed. I couldn’t get that past him. Because I always remembered my dreams.

He ran his tongue over his bottom teeth, then bent down another inch. I sank further into the pillows as his face neared, retreating like an animal cornered by a predator.

I prayed for Lukas to forget that he knew me, to conveniently forget that little fact about my memory.

Lukas’s eyes slowly scanned my form again, taking a heavy pause where my arms disappeared under the blanket.

“Daphne.”