I tried to rein in the disbelief all too evident in my tone. “You haven’t had sex before?”
He closed his eyes and sighed, his hands moving to grip my bare waist. “I have. But not with anyone I cared about or… knew. One-time things. That’s all.” He raised his eyes to mine.
“That’s all—ever?”
He smiled sadly, his fingers running just inside the perimeter of my loosened waistband. “It’s not like there’ve been tons of them. There were more before, in high school, than there have been the past three years.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his index fingers hooking into the belt loops at the side of my jeans.
“Lucas? I said yes, and I meant it. I want this—as long as you have protection, I mean. I want this, with you. So this is okay.” I was babbling, worried that it would end as it had six days before. I exhaled a breath and spoke just above a whisper. “Please don’t ask me to say stop.”
Staring down at me, he pulled and I lifted my hips. My jeans slid down my legs and he tossed them aside, shrugged out of his shirt and removed his jeans. “I want it to be better than okay. You deserve better than okay.” After grabbing a condom from a box in the nightstand and tossing the small square on the bed, he settled between my legs. I was shivering like I had no experience whatsoever. “You’re shaking, Jacqueline. Do you want to—”
“No.” I put my trembling fingers over his mouth. “I’m just a little cold.” And a whole lot nervous.
He pushed the covers down beneath me and dragged them back up, over us. His weight pressing into me, he kissed me thoroughly before staring into my eyes, his fingers drifting over my face. “Better?”
I took a deep breath, my fears dissolving with his touch, the anticipation climbing faster than it had minutes ago in the kitchen. “Yes.”
As his thumb caressed my temple, his fingertips teased into my hair. His eyes were so pale this close that I could see every fragmented facet. “You know you can say it.” His voice notched lower, softer. “But I’m not asking you to, this time.”
“Good,” I answered, lifting my head to capture his mouth, my hands kneading up and over the hard muscles of his back before trailing my nails down the center from his shoulder blades to his hips.
His earlier hesitation gone, he removed the last scraps of fabric we were wearing, fixed the condom in place, kissed me fiercely and rocked into me.
Had this been Kennedy, it would have been over in a few minutes.
My last coherent thought, as Lucas took his time kissing and touching every part of me he could reach and my body arched into his, was oh… so this is what all the fuss is about.
***
We lay facing each other, snuggled under the covers, shoulders peeking out. I watched his gaze drift over my face, stopping on each feature as if he was memorizing it: ear, jaw, mouth… chin, throat, curve of shoulder.
He came back to my eyes then, lifting his hand and tracing over the individual attributes while watching my response. When his fingers trailed over my lips, they edged the border before rubbing across the lower one, and I swallowed and concentrated on breathing. His eyes fell there and he stared for a long moment before cupping the back of my neck, moving closer and kissing me so softly I hardly felt it, until the thin connection caught and ricocheted through me, shooting to my toes like a current.
I sighed and our breath mingled. Pushing the covers to my waist, he urged me onto my back before propping his face on his hand and continuing his perusal. My exposed skin should have been cold, but I warmed under his examination. “I want to sketch you like this.” His voice was as gentle as his touch—now skirting across my collarbone, back and forth, before moving lower.
“Can I assume it won’t end up on the wall?”
He smirked down at me. “Er, no, this one wouldn’t go on the wall, as tempting a thought as that is. I’ve done several sketches of you that aren’t on the wall.”
“You have?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Can I see them?”
He gnawed his lower lip, fingers tracing along the curves of my breast and then following the bumps of each rib. “Now?” His warm hand curved around my waist and he pulled me closer.
I looked into his eyes as he lay over me. “Maybe, in a little while...”
He scooted lower. “Good. ’Cause I’ve got a couple things I’d like to do first.”
***
He pulled on his dark boxer briefs before padding out to the kitchen. I heard the front door open and close a moment later, his voice a low murmur mixed with Francis’s insistent meows. He came back with a tall glass of milk and a plate of brownie squares.