Just a Little White Lie(72)
“You know, if I’d ever taken the time to sit down with paper and pencil and list the characteristics of a born-with-a-silver-spoon-in-her-mouth heiress, I’d have to rethink everything I’d have written. I’d have been so far off the mark, I wouldn’t even have earned points for trying.”
He squinted at her. “Or maybe it’s just you. I don’t know. Don’t know what to think anymore. But these last few days have set me straight and reminded me of the danger of stereotyping.
“You are, indeed, an enigma, Luce.”
They saw Sammy, Birdie and Zane off. Jake turned to Lucy. “You gonna be okay to ride the motorcycle? Maybe I should run to Birdie’s, pick up the Jeep and come back for you?”
“I’m good, Jake.” Still, she swung her leg gingerly over the bike when she got on. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as she’d anticipated.
When her arms wrapped around him, he laid a hand over hers. Then he half-turned on the bike’s seat. Their lips touched, the rest of the world fading into unimportance as he changed angles, took the kiss deeper.
“God, you taste good,” he whispered against her lips.
“You’re reading my mind,” she said.
“Put on your helmet.” Jake snapped his chin strap. “The sooner we get going, the sooner we get home.”
His voice had taken on a bedroom-husky tone she recognized so well. Her body reacted instantly and with a vengeance. She literally ached for his touch. For him.
What was it about this man that she couldn’t keep her hands off him? She’d never considered herself a physical person. Sex hadn’t been high on her list of favorite pastimes. But with Jake, she simply couldn’t get enough. Every time they made love, rather than being appeased, her appetite grew. She wanted the man more with each passing minute.
And from the glint in his eyes, she wasn’t alone.
Thank God!
They made a quick stop for her suitcase, trading the bike for the Jeep, and drove home. Lucinda prayed they wouldn’t meet any of Pride’s finest. If they did, Jake was bound to be paying a hefty fine. She could only imagine explaining to his father that they’d been speeding because they were in a hurry to rip the clothes off each other. Impatient to find a bed!
She grinned.
They veered into the driveway, and he reached across, undid her seatbelt and dragged her to him. Mouths and hands roamed over each other till she lost track of time.
Jake groaned. “Sugar, I think we’d better make a run for it. This Jeep’s too small for what I want to do to you.”
Her stomach turned liquid.
He put a hand on either side of her face. “You game? If you were really serious before, though, and don’t want this to go further, you’re gonna have to tell me now.”
She cupped his cheek. “Oh, Jake, I love you for asking.” She laughed. “But if you stop now, I’m going to have to hurt you. I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
He lifted his eyes heavenward. “There is a God.”
They only made it as far as the ugly old maroon sofa in the living room.
“I don’t know how gentle—”
“I don’t need gentle, Jake.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Okay, then.”
Clothes flew, landing haphazardly around them. Her bra dangled from a lampshade, his T-shirt hung from a plant. Jake’s mouth trailed kisses along her body, exploring every inch of her. She met him, kiss for kiss, eager to know him. Eager to become one with him again.
When neither could stand it another second, he entered her, groaning when her hips rose and she met his thrust. Their aroused bodies melded into one and together they raced toward fulfillment.
Passion spent, they lay tangled around each other, his hand tracing patterns across her bare stomach. His head on her breast, she ran her fingers through his soft, dark hair. She could barely breathe. Every nerve in her body sang.
Still, that voice deep inside chastised her. Don’t you have more self-control than this?
She shifted.
“You okay?” His sexy, passion-husky voice sent ripples of pleasure over her skin, raising goose bumps.
“Yes,” she managed. “My hip—”
His head jerked up. “Ah, Luce, what a louse I am. I should have been more careful. I never even—”
She laid a finger over his lips. “Not to worry. I’m good. Better than good. Honestly.” She sat up, finding her T-shirt caught on the corner of the coffee table. Sliding it over her head, she pulled it down to cover herself. “I need to go to bed, though. It’s been a long day.”
“You’re right.” He lifted her hair, kissed her shoulder, her neck. “It’s been quite eventful.”