Page 35 of Lucas

My eyes go wide, a strangled sound escaping my throat as I avert my gaze, heat rushing to my cheeks. But not before I get an eyeful of broad shoulders, chiseled abs, and a dark trail of hair leading down to?—

No. I slam the door shut on that thought, fixing my eyes firmly on a spot over his left shoulder.

“I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...to interrupt,” I stammer out, my tongue tripping over the words. Fuck, what was he doing?

He looks like the devil himself, with a body made for sin. For temptation.

Lucas leans against the doorframe, seeming completely at ease in his nudity. A slow, wicked smile spreads over his face as he takes in my obvious discomfort.

My heart hammers against my ribs, my skin feeling too tight, too hot. I can’t seem to form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

My eyes betray me, darting down to take in the expanses of tanned skin, the ripple of muscle under the surface. He’s magnificent, like a statue carved from marble, every inch of him honed to perfection.

A bead of sweat trickles down my spine, my body reacting to his even as my mind recoils.

This is a mistake.

I wrench my eyes away, forcing myself to focus on his face. His expression is hungry and predatory, those blue eyes devouring me like he’s already imagining me out of this dress.

The words fail to come out of me. This is not appropriate. He’s naked. I’ll manage. I’ll sleep sitting up or something.

Chapter Eleven

LUCAS

“What are you doing here?” The words come out in a near growl.

“I–I...” Her cheeks flush red, and her eyes dart everywhere, including over my naked body, before she looks away.

I like that she’s looking at me. It feeds the hungry beast inside me, the one that wants to devour her whole.

“If you didn’t come here to do something about it, maybe you should leave.” For a moment, a glimmer of hope flickers in me, but I know there’s no chance she came here for the reason I’m hoping, so it’s better if she stays away from me.

“Never mind.” She turns to go.

Damn it. “Wait.” I grasp her arm, stopping her. Her skin is soft and warm beneath my fingers, and I have to resist the urge to pull her closer. “What did you want?”

Her eyes jump down again before snapping back up to myface. “I–I need help getting out of this dress. I can’t reach the hooks.”

I step back and open the door wider, gesturing for her to enter. “Come on in. Unless you want to undress in the hallway.”

Her chest rises and falls, emphasizing the fullness of her breasts straining against the bodice of her gown. She hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. The action draws my gaze like a magnet, making me wonder how those lips would feel against my skin, against my cock.

“I don’t bite.” I pause, my mouth curving into a wicked half-smile. “Unless asked.” Images of her beneath me, breathless and begging, flood my mind. I wonder what she tastes like. If she’s as sweet as she looks.

Shaking myself from my fantasies, I step aside, allowing her entrance. She brushes past me, her skirt swishing against my leg and sending a jolt of electricity through me.

She steps inside, standing in the middle of the room with her back to me.

I approach her slowly as if she’s a skittish deer that might bolt at any moment. I stand behind her, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body, to hear the hitch in her breathing as I invade her space.

Unable to resist, I trail my fingers over the nape of her neck, brushing aside the few wisps of hair that have escaped her updo. Her skin is like satin, soft and smooth and begging to be touched. She shivers under my caress, a barely perceptible tremor that makes me want to press closer, to feel that shiver against the entire length of my body.

But I don’t. Instead, I force myself to focus on the task at hand. My fingers glide down her spine, finding the top of theendless row of tiny hooks holding her dress together. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it backfires as I inhale the heady scent of her—vanilla and jasmine and something uniquely Ava.

She looked stunning today at the wedding, and each dress she changed into was more beautiful than the last. So beautiful that I forgot my anger when I saw how much the wedding cost. That she spent way over the budget. A budget that could have sufficed for a small country.

All was forgotten when I saw her walking toward me, dressed in the white gown, her hair cascading over her shoulders, looking like an angel descended from heaven.