Page 49 of Just Trouble

“Courtesy of Cameron,” Daph says.

“She thinks we need two dozen, does she?” I strip off my jeans, aware of Daph’s assessing gaze. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint your friends,” I growl, then ease down on top of her, my hands on her thighs. She tastes like heaven and sighs exquisitely when my mouth closes over her. It’s like we’re exactly where we need to be and I believe it with all my heart.

And that’s the last coherent thought I have for quite a while.

11

DAPHNE

The sex, in case you have any doubts, is phenomenal. Best ever. No contest.

I do scream.

Twice.

Luke makes some comment about ensuring the neighbours call the police then I straddle him and he’s not even capable of being a smart-ass for a while. There’s nothing better than that groan he makes when he finally lets go, the one that goes on and on and on, as if his release is being torn free of his soul.

The third time starts in the shower and ends up on the bathroom counter, then I’m so exhausted I can hardly stand up. Luke carries me to the bed as if I weigh nothing at all and tucks me in. I sigh with contentment and murmur ‘good night.’ I expect him to let himself out and disappear forever.

Instead, he slides into the bed behind me and wraps his arm around me. He kisses the back of my shoulder then nestles in, his breathing getting slower as he falls asleep. He’s warm and rock-solid and I have no complaints that he’s challenging my expectations.

It’s lovely.

I sleep like the dead and awaken only at the sound of my front door lock.

Luke, I think,heading out, never to be seen again.

But then I realize that Luke is still dozing against my back, the weight of his arm around my waist. In fact, his hand is on my stomach, fingers splayed, and his thumb is doing this delicious swirly thing that is melting my knees and turning my brain to a tangle of spaghetti. I’m not even awake and I’m so turned on. He has to know it and I wriggle against him, just to be sure.

He’s huge and hard, exactly what I want to make up to, so I reach back and close my hand around him.

He makes a little growl that proves he likes the situation as much as I do. He rolls me to my back and leans in for a kiss. How can he taste minty fresh like toothpaste already? I have no time to ask because his kiss is gloriously distracting and I love how he’s pressing me down into the mattress…and the keys jingle again.

My eyes fly open. Friday!

It’sFriday.

The trouble with really great sex—especially if you haven’t had any sex in a while—is that it blurs your thoughts to other possibilities. Sensation has a way of making me forget reality, and the better the sensation, the more details I drop.

After the night with Luke, it’s amazing that I remember my own name.

What I’ve forgotten is this: my dad and I have a weekly meeting every Friday at this breakfast place in Havelock. (It’s called Eggs-traordinary. Really. The entire menu is filled with puns and dad-jokes. My dad loves it. He sits there chuckling away, each and every week, as he reads the menu.) You would think that I also would have remembered that his car was in my driveway, that it was full of Merrie’s pots etc., and that he has keys to my house.

I yelp as I sit up. Breaking contact with Luke’s hand means I instantly remember everything.

Shit.

Luke lounges against the headboard, eyes gleaming. “Expecting someone?” he asks in a silky murmur and I know he’s enjoying my reaction.

I swat him and he grins, unrepentant.

“Competition?” he asks, clearly knowing he has none. He reaches over and caresses my nipple, rolling it between finger and thumb.

Traitor that it is, it tightens to attention and I close my eyes in rapture…

“Daphne! Sleeping in after your drive?” my father calls from the foyer.

Then there’s a silence, one that makes me remember the detritus shed in every direction as we undressed each other. Luke’s boots and jacket. My skirt and jacket.

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