Page 50 of Just Trouble

My bra.

My father clears his throat delicately, apparently having noticed said detritus.

Of course, my father must know that I’m not a virgin anymore, but being aware that something is probably true and stumbling unexpectedly onto the evidence are two different things.

I look at Luke, who looks more like mischief than should be humanly possible, and he smiles wickedly. He cups my breast, leans in and kisses it, sending shivers right to my toes.

I have no script for this moment and don’t know what to do.

In fact, Luke’s caress is removing all vocabulary from my mind, replacing it with wonderful sensations and even better urges. Luke catches me around the waist and rolls me beneath him in one smooth move. His lips are against my ear again, his breath warm and his hands more than a little distracting.

“I’ll hide,” he whispers and I don’t believe it. I pull back to look at him. He nods and crosses his heart with a fingertip.

Those eyes, though. They’re twinkling with devilry.

“What price?” I mouth and he pretends to laugh silently.

I do not trust him. Not one bit.

My soul is gone forever. I’ll owe Luke sex on demand whenever he wants it—and I can’t regret the possibility much.

“Hi Dad!” I call, knowing I sound ridiculously cheerful. “Sorry I overslept.” I try to get out of bed, but Luke pulls me into his lap. He turns me around, bending to kiss first one nipple and then the other, even as I stare down at the dark tangle of his hair. He moves seductively, slowly, and once again I’m drowning in sensation, everything else forgotten. I feel his lips close around one and his teeth graze the taut peak gently, so gently that I nearly moan out loud.

He glances up and tips his head toward the stairs, his expression expectant.

My dad. I forgot.

Again.

“Why don’t we cancel this week?” my father calls. “I see that my car is a bit full.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I’ll get it sorted out today. Sorry!”

Luke spreads his fingers and slides his hand down my belly. I’m on fire and he knows it—and quite possibly my dad does, too.

“No problem,” my dad replies cheerfully. The moment feels surreal. “I know it’s a long drive. See you at noon?”

“Yes! I’ll be in the office by then. Thanks, Dad!” The door clicks as he leaves and I fall back against Luke with relief. I twist around to face him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You. Are. Wicked.”

It’s not exactly news and he doesn’t look chastened.

In fact, he looks proud of himself.

“Guilty as charged,” he cedes easily. “Now come here and do something about it.”

“Why should I?”

His eyes glint. “You don’t think I’ll make it worth your while?”

“I think you want what you want and everything else is immaterial.”

He sobers. “Guilty as charged, counsellor.” He gives me a smouldering look, entwining his fingers with mine and I roll to my back again. He braces his weight over me as he gazes into my eyes. My heart skips a beat and he can probably feel it. I have no idea what he’s going to say or do, and even that is exciting.

“I have a confession to make,” he rumbles.

“Talk, talk, talk,” I complain and his grin flashes before he sobers again. His gaze locks with mine and he’s so serious that I’m a little bit worried.

“I thought you were gorgeous the other day when I came into the office, Daph,” he confesses and my chest squeezes tightly. “All sleek and polished, polite and cool. It made me want to shake your composure. I thought you were pretty much irresistible.”

---