Page 34

CHAPTER 34

Just Once More

KELLEN

I t’s almost midnight, and Lucy Knox has me speechless. From the first moment I saw her across the room tonight, I lost my shit. Quietly, internally, but I’m a mess.

She’s so beautiful tonight. Always, actually, but there’s something about seeing her in that short black dress and heels.

I don’t even know what to say to her. I feel like a teenage boy tongue tied around the hottest girl in school. I can’t get her alone. I shouldn’t, anyway. It’s like she doesn’t even notice me. She’s the sun, with her fiery red hair, and I’m just some shitty planet too far away to feel her heat.

A waiter comes by with a tray, and I swipe two full glasses of champagne. I’m going to talk to her. What will I say? Fuck if I know. I’ll ask her how she is. If she thinks about me.

If she realizes I love her.

Nope. Just the first one. I head in her direction with Harley, my heart pounding.

“Lucy,” I say, and she looks up at me, her eyes filled with surprise and warmth, and maybe something like fear. Or is that heat?

I’m such a bad reader of people.

“Hi. Having a good night?” she asks, like we’re two coworkers at a work event.

“Yes. Champagne?” I extend my hand toward her, and Lucy reaches out for the glass.

“Thank you?—”

At that moment, Atticus walks up with Raleigh and Lachlan, and proceeds to throw his arm out mid-sentence. His arm hits mine, and the full glass of champagne I had for Lucy dumps completely down the front of her dress.

She gasps.

“Oh my god, shit, I’m so sorry.” I spin to Atticus and shove the glasses at him. “Dick. Take this.”

“Sorry, Luce!” Atticus grimaces.

“No worries. But that is really cold. And bubbly.” Lucy cracks a grin but champagne drips down her chest into her dress.

“Come on.” I link my hand around Lucy’s arm, steering her away from the group. I lead her out of the ballroom and down the hall toward a distant women’s restroom.

“Where are we going?” Lucy’s breathless but follows my lead.

“There’s a better bathroom over here.”

She nods as if that’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.

It is not.

But I saw a way to get her alone, and I’m going to take advantage. We walk down a long hallway in silence and thankfully a women’s restroom appears. I push the door open and stick my head in.

“Hello? Anyone in here?” No one replies. “Come on.” I pull Lucy in after me. There’s an open area before the sinks and toilets with a chair, a clean counter, and a mirror. I grab a tissue from the box on the counter and turn to face her.

“There were napkins in the ballroom,” she says. Her chest is heaving, and I don’t think it’s from the walk down the hallway .

“May I?” I don’t respond to her comment but raise the tissue up so she knows what I’m asking.

She nods.

I dab the tissue around the hollow of her neck, not looking at her but staying focused on the spilled champagne, which is barely noticeable anymore. I can feel her swallow beneath my fingers, and I pause at the motion before moving further down, dragging the tissue. My heart pounds in my chest and I need this. I need this woman. I’m fucking desperate for her.

There’s no more champagne to wipe up, but I let my hand move down between her breasts slowly, so she has plenty of time to stop me. My knuckles graze the side of her tit, and she breathes in sharply.

“I’ve missed you.” I finally look up into her eyes and it’s too much. I might not know anything about love, but I know there’s fire there.

Lucy reaches her hands up and places them gently on either side of my jaw, sliding them back until they’re behind my head, then in my hair. Leaving my hand between her breasts, I step forward, and her body lightly presses against mine.

“Come here,” she demands, and I lower my face to hers. It’s not sweet or gentle or soft, but hungry and needy. Wild. Our tongues wrap together, and I open my hand on her chest, moving over to massage her breast.

“Jesus, Lucy.” I want to say more but she doesn’t let me. Her body is reacting like mine. On fire as she tries to pull me even closer.

My knees wobble. My cock hardens. And my heart? I don’t know what that fucker is doing.

Lucy makes a dirty, desperate squeak and grabs my hands, pushing them down onto her ass. Fuck, the feel of her under my hands. I squeeze her and press her against me, and she moans into my mouth.

This is too much and not enough. I kiss her like I’m never going to see her again. I kiss her and try to tell her with my mouth what I’m feeling. That I love her. That I want her. I beg her to stay with my lips. But I can never say any of those things out loud. It’s not fair to me. To Lucy. To Ava. To anyone.

Lucy moves my hand from her ass to between her legs, and she hikes up her short dress with her other hand. She’s wet and willing and dammit, I want more than just sex, but I’ll take whatever she’ll give me.

Even though I know it’ll hurt in the end. When she walks away. When she leaves.

I can’t deny her.

“Lock the door.” She nods her head to the closed door, breathing deeply as I rub my finger over the wet fabric of her underwear.

Who am I to say no? I step away for a beat and slide the deadbolt that’s secured on top of the door to the bathroom. The look in her eyes when I come back to her, before we kiss, there’s something there. Isn’t there? Or am I just imagining it?

I back her up to the counter and push her dress all the way to her waist, then wiggle her underwear down before lifting her onto the counter and stepping between her legs.

I don’t want to just fuck her; I want to make love to her. But that’s not what she wants. She leans her hands on the counter and throws her head back, moaning as I slide a finger between her legs.

Lucy’s never been more beautiful.

I stare at the way her breasts overflow from the dress, the fabric taut as she arches her back. I tug her dress down and they tumble out.

I pull a condom out of my wallet and then fumble with my belt and my zipper.

“Lucy.” I lean forward and cup her jaw in my clean hand. Her skin is so soft under my fingers. I drink in her wayward freckles, those green eyes looking upward in pleasure, her lips so red.

“Yes?” She focuses on me .

“I want you. I’ve never wanted anything more. I always want you, Lucy. I’m not sure I’ve ever—” I stop speaking when she puts a finger on my lips.

She doesn’t want to hear what I have to say. I’m glad she stopped me. Who knows where that was going.

“Just do it.” Lucy doesn’t want confessions of love or gentle caresses.

So I do what she wants and bury myself inside her. Being here feels like I’ve come home, and I never want to leave.

Lucy wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer to her. I rest my lips on her ear.

She gasps, and I push into her again and again until she moans my name and comes, fast and hard. I follow a second later.

We’re panting, and she pushes me away, her expression already distant.

I zip my pants before leaning forward to kiss her neck and run my hand along her long, straight hair.

“I like your hair like this,” I murmur into her ear. “But I love your curls.”

She tugs her dress up and hops down from the counter onto her feet.

I don’t want this to be it. I want to do this again, and again.

But Lucy’s already pushed me away.

“We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she says, her face as serious as I’ve seen it.

“I’m glad we did.”

But she doesn’t respond, only reaches down to pull up her underwear, then watches me as I reach for her.

“We should get back,” Lucy says, leaning away.

I lead her back to the ballroom. She doesn’t let me hold her hand in the hallway.

The DJ is about to start the countdown to midnight. I hope she’ll let me kiss her then, but she slips away to her friends, and I join Lachlan with the rest of the boys. Some of them have clearly had too much to drink and will regret it tomorrow when Coach Jackson kicks their asses.

But not me.

I’m not drunk. I’m in love.