Page 89 of Honeymoon Phase
And while I should probably be panicking about this quiet realization that I’m having smack-dab in the middle of a bar surrounded by his family... I feel... perfectly calm.
This is my best friend, and ever since that night we talked about grief—about losing his dad and the losses we’ve both experienced—we’re different. More bonded and connected in a way that feels effortless.
Even sleeping with him feels completely normal. Like we’ve always done it. It’s interesting because when I consider what marriage is, isn’t it living with someone you like to spend time with? Being open and honest with someone who you trust won’t let you down? Being attracted to the person you spend the most time with? Maybe marrying your friend can turn into something that’s real?
All I know is tonight, I’m going to keep playing make-believe because it feels good. I’m going to enjoy this night out with his family in the large table we’ve commandeered in the corner and not stress about the future. I have a whole year to worry about what these newfound feelings mean.
“More Fireball!” Cozy cheers as she carries over a tray of shots to the table. Judy, the owner, eyes Cozy from her place behind the bar, and is clearly not happy about giving a tray of shots to the drunk girl from Boulder.
“Tastes like a chick drink,” Wyatt says, wrinkling his nose after taking a sip.
“I love it.” Calder shoots it back in one go.
“Calder, I was going to do a toast!” Cozy whacks her brother-in-law on the arm before she lifts her shot glass toward me. “To Addison and Luke. Welcome to the family, Addison!”
Everyone shoots back their drinks and suddenly I hear Calder yell, “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”
Everyone joins them and I can’t help but laugh when I realize they’re all looking at me and Luke, directing this chant to us.
“Guys, come on.” Luke waves them off and turns his head to me with a frown, the scent of cinnamon on his breath wafting over my face and causing me to lick my lips.
They continue their chanting, the ladies joining in too and even Wyatt, the quiet one, is in on the game. If you can call it that. Luke glowers at his family, clearly not amused but all I can do is stare at Luke’s mouth, my eyes zeroing in on that little scar again.
The scar he got trying to get me to marry him.
“Come on, Addison!” Dakota squeals, giving me a playful shove and shaking me out of my oral fixation on my husband. “Give that Fletcher brother a smooch!”
I turn to Luke, my lower lip sliding between my teeth as I fight the urges coursing through my body. He’s just so big and cozy sitting there, all agitated with his family and smelling so... Luke-like.
He shakes his head and blinks a slow blink at me as he murmurs, “Just ignore them. They’re a bunch of ass—”
I cut Luke off by crushing my mouth to his, locking our lips tight as I grip his face and shift off my chair to slide onto his lap for better leverage. I have to sit sideways on him because my skirt is too tight for me to spread my legs, but he doesn’t seem to mind as his hands instantly come around me, grabbing my waist and thighs, holding me to him.
I move my hands back into his hair, my fingers raking through his tousled locks as I sweep my tongue into his mouth, swirling the cinnamon liquor lingering between us. His chest rumbles with a growl and he tightens his hold on me, his tongue meeting mine, dancing with it, fighting with it, claiming it with vigor that I’ve missed since our last embrace like this.
I’ve missed Luke’s mouth. I’ve missed the warm, comforted feeling that rushes through me when we connect on this elemental level. I’ve missed the way he kisses harder than I ever would have expected. He doesn’t kiss like a nice boy. He kisses like a man. A bad man who could do bad things to me if I let him.
And God do I want to let him.
I want to feel his mouth all over my body. I want to lick that tiny scar on his chin and wince at the sensation of his whiskers on my tongue. I want to know what it feels like to have his beard between my legs. I want to slice my fingers into his hair as he ravishes my core. I want to ravish his core. His length. God, I want him.
The sound of his family cheering us on feels distant and far away as I lose myself in this moment right here, right now. With my husband.
After what feels like seconds and an eternity, we pull apart, both panting, our eyes locked on one another, chests heaving with awareness that we did it again. And nothing about that kiss felt like make-believe.
Luke’s rough palm reaches out and grips my neck, stealing my breath as he hauls me toward him to lock our lips one more time. His mouth is a fierce claiming as he devours my lips and then releases me just as quickly as he took me.
I’m wrecked.
I grip his shoulders for support as my fingers and toes tingle with shock, my nipples pebbling inside my bra as a heaviness swirls between my legs. I feel drunk, and I haven’t even had that much to drink tonight.
“Holy fuck,” Dakota deadpans.
“I’ll second that,” I hear Trista say from somewhere in the distance.
“I did not expect Luke to bust out the hand necklace!” Cozy exclaims, slapping her hand on the table. “We need to dance, ladies.”
And before I know it, I’m being dragged out onto the dance floor on shaky legs that would much rather be wrapped around my husband.
