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Luke demolished most of the pizza and another two beers, and he had a cute-as-fuck glow on his face. “You know what I really do want though? More than anything?”
I drained the rest of my beer. “What’s that?”
“I want to go back to the house and test a few theories.”
“Theories?”
He nodded and leaned in close. “One. That my sister is full of shit. You do have earth-shattering moves; I know you do. Two, because of the emotional-connection theory. And three, that we haven’t done a lot of the things I wanna try, and we need to remedy that. Stat.”
Jesus Herbert Christ.
“Oh, and four,” he said, holding up four fingers proudly. “That my torture theory worked, and I’m going to count exactly how many seconds it takes from leaving this bar until I’m naked.”
I stood up and started peeling bills out of my wallet.Which, of course, made him laugh. “And five, how to get me to pay.”
I tossed a bunch of cash on the table—possibly ten times what we owed, but I didn’t give a fuck. “You wanna start running,” I warned.
Luke laughed again, and I knew people were watching. Still didn’t give one single fuck. Luke waltzed merrily to the gate, grinning at me. “I said run, Dougherty,” I called out.
All I heard was Luke’s laughter in the darkness as he took off up the beach, and I raced out after him. I hit the loose, dry sand, my momentum going in one direction and my knee in another.
Fuck.
FOURTEEN
I knewmy knee was jacked up, but I tried to pull up without falling. “Ow, fuck.”
“What’s wrong, Acosta,” Luke called out. “Don’t wanna test my theories?”
I laughed, despite my stupid fucking knee. “My theory is I fucked up my knee.”
A few seconds later, he came running toward me, concerned. “For real?”
I limped and winced. “Fuck.”
“Oh crap,” he said, coming to put his shoulder under my arm. He helped me walk back to the house, opening the door for me and helping me onto the sofa before he disappeared into the kitchen.
I gently put my foot up on the coffee table and Luke came back with some ice in a kitchen towel. “Here,” he said, holding it on my knee. “This should help.”
“I felt it give out as soon as I hit the sand,” I said. “Fuck.”
He frowned as he sat beside me. “I’m sorry. I just...”
“It’s not your fault.” I winced. “Stupid fucking knee.”
Luke pouted in a way that was far too cute. “And I really wanted to test those theories.”
I laughed. “I think the lesson we have learned today is that you should have tested those theories when you weretorturingme before dinner. We could have had orgasms before food, then ate the food, then strolled back for round two of theories, instead of trying to run.”
He was still pouting, so I put my thumb to his bottom lip. “None of this.” Then I thought about it... “Wait, are you pouting because of my knee and I’m in pain, or are you pouting because your theories and orgasm expectations aren’t being met?”
He had the decency to look offended before his smile gave him away. “Well, yeah sure, your knee, of course...”
I gave him a shove and then fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him in, his nose touching mine. “The rest of me works just fine.”
His surprise soon became a smirk. “Duly noted,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to mine. It was a soft kiss at first. Then he pulled my bottom lip between his, tilted his head, and forced my mouth open, delving his tongue inside.
Of course, my first reaction was a full-body need to feel him against me, and I stupidly moved my leg. “Ow, fuck,” I hissed, favoring my sore knee.
