The Return of Antonides: Christmas at the Castello(10)

           



       

"You said I made you crazy." She had climbed up on one of the benches and was almost on eye level with him.

Lukas shrugged awkwardly. Was he supposed to tell her he wanted her?  That he was crazy with longing for her-and she was engaged to his best  friend? He put a hand back and rubbed between his shoulder blades and  said the only thing he could think of. "You always argue."

"I didn't argue tonight!"

He grunted. "Most times you argue."

"So do you."

Lukas scowled, unable to dispute that. He turned his attention back to  the mast. "We can go soon. Should begin to get light in half an hour or  so."

He thought she might go away, look out to the east for signs of dawn.  She didn't. She watched him. Then she asked, "Why did you agree to take  me to the prom?"

"You know why. Matt asked me to." He flicked a quick glance up at her, then picked at a bit of loose brightwork with his thumb.

"Is that the only reason?"

His brows drew down, and he scowled at her. "Why else would I do it?"

Holly shrugged awkwardly. "I don't know. I just...wondered.  Sometimes..." She stopped and looked away, staring out across the dark  water. "Never mind."

Wondered what? Don't stop there! But damn it, she did. She didn't say  anything else. And he couldn't make himself ask. He and Holly never had  heart-to-hearts. They never talked about things that mattered. And he  wasn't going to admit to anything when she wasn't saying how she felt.

"That's the only reason," he said gruffly. "I'm just doing what Matt would do. What Matt wanted me to do."

If he said it out loud firmly and flatly enough, would that make it true?

"Of course." Holly's voice was toneless. Was she convinced? Was she doubtful?

Did she want...him? Lukas rubbed his hand against the back of his neck,  then he straightened, walked back to the cockpit and dropped lightly  into it. Only one way to find out. He reached up and caught her hand,  pulling her down off the bench to stand facing him.

"What?" Holly looked up at him, confused.

"What would you and Matt be doing now?"

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?" She looked at him, confused and wary.

"You asked me a question. My turn to ask you one. I'm standing in for Matt, aren't I? What would you and Matt be doing?"

He felt her fingers twist in his as she looked away. "How should I know?"

"Kissing?"

She didn't answer, just pressed her lips together and refused to look at him.

"Kissing," Lukas affirmed softly, leaning in, so close now that he caught another hint of that citrus scent.

Her fingers pulled out of his hands. He let go, but only to catch hold  of her wrists, then slid both his hands up until they rested lightly  just above her elbows, drawing her closer.

"So I haven't been doing my job," he said, keeping his voice even, although he felt the tension rising within.

He would burn in hell for this. He knew it, but he couldn't help it. If  she responded... If she wanted him, he would save her from making the  biggest mistake of her life.

Holly flicked a quick glance up at him, then immediately looked away  again, but it was too late. Lukas had seen a flicker of interest in that  glance. He let go of her arms to touch her face, to turn it to look at  him as he ran his thumbs along her jaw and slowly and deliberately  lowered his mouth to hers.

Lukas's brain fogged over. His body took over. He had no plan. Hell, he  never had a plan. He went with his gut-and other even more interested  portions of his anatomy-doing what came naturally, tracing her lips  lightly with his tongue. Teasing, testing, tasting...

And Holly didn't pull away.

The taste of Holly on his lips intoxicated him, made him tremble with  the need that had been building all evening. Evening, hell, it had been  building for years. From a time when he was too young to understand,  some gut-level instinct deep inside him that he couldn't begin to put a  name to had zeroed in on her. He had wanted Holly before he'd barely  known what such desire meant.

And it hadn't gone away-ever. No matter how hard he'd tried to make it,  no matter that she belonged to Matt, no matter how many other girls  he'd dated, kissed, touched in an effort to blot Holly out of his mind,  she was still there. He couldn't explain it. Couldn't begin to try. He  only knew it felt right to have Holly's mouth open under his, to have  her body pressed against his, driving his need higher.

He would stop. Of course he would stop. But not now. Not yet. He had  been denied so long. But just now, just for the moment, he needed this.  Needed her. If she wanted to stop it, she would.                       
       
           



       

But Holly didn't pull away.

Instead, as his thumbs caressed her temples and his fingers tangled in  her hair, Lukas felt her lips part more, allowing him to deepen the  kiss, to slide his tongue between her lips, to touch hers.

If she'd pressed her lips together, he would have stopped. If she  hadn't opened to him, if he hadn't caught the sound of a sigh escaping  her and felt her tremble at his touch, he would have stepped back, let  her go. But instead, she lifted her hands and laid them against his  chest.

And she didn't push him away. On the contrary, her fingers curled into  the fabric of his sweatshirt, clutching him close, hanging on.

Lukas moved closer, trapping her hands between them as his lips  traveled along the line of her jaw, nipping, tasting. His fingers  stroked down over her back, then slid up beneath the baggy borrowed  sweatshirt to settle against silky-smooth skin.

There was the slightest hitch in her breath, but when he began an easy,  gentle stroking, she arched into him, her spine elongating, as if she  welcomed his touch.

Lukas welcomed being able to touch her. No doubt about that. He'd  wanted to touch her forever. But the closest he'd come had been when  he'd pulled her pigtails or pushed her underwater. Except once. When she  was fourteen they had been biking and she'd hit a rock, falling,  hurting her wrist and gashing her leg. It was obvious that she couldn't  ride home. So, leaving Matt to bring her bike, Lukas had carried her.

Holly hadn't argued about it. She'd let him take charge, hadn't  resisted when he'd pulled off his T-shirt and wrapped it around her leg,  then lifted her into his arms.

It was the only time he'd held her until tonight.

This was far better. Now he could run his hands over her back,  relishing the lack of a bra that would have impeded his fingers'  journey. He could slide his palms around to cup her breasts and nuzzle  them beneath the soft cotton of the sweatshirt. Now he could trace the  line of her spine and the waistband of her shorts. So he did.

And Holly didn't push him away. Instead, she drew her hands out from  between them, but only to set them on his hips. She leaned closer and  tentatively brushed her lips along his jawline. Everywhere her lips  touched Lukas felt little sparks of electricity.

He groaned as hot blood pounded in his veins and he felt the thrum of  wanting build within. But more than he wanted to take Holly, he wanted  to know her, wanted to feel her tremble beneath his hands, and know that  she was responding to him.

He sank onto the bench where she'd stood earlier, then drew her down  onto his lap, into his arms, and kissed her again, even more deeply this  time, tasting her, savoring her as she squirmed against him, curving  her body into his.

Her bottom shifted against his erection, making him even harder than he  already was. His hands were unsteady as they stroked their way up her  legs. She moved again, settling in, and Lukas had to edge his legs apart  to ease the pressure just enough to keep from disgracing himself  completely. Then he slid a hand around and up across her rib cage to  find the soft swell of her breast again.

He cupped it in his palm and felt the nipple pebble as he rubbed his  thumb over it. Holly whimpered and shifted under his touch, rubbing  against him through the thin cotton of his shorts. Lukas's eyes squeezed  shut.

But his hands kept moving, kept exploring. He drew lines up her thighs  to the hem of her shorts, across the tops, down the sides. He drew  circles on the insides of her knees, then his fingers ventured slowly up  her inner thighs. He felt her breath quicken. His fingers slid back  down and circled around her knees. His heart pounded in his ears.

He could hear hers, too, as his explorations grew bolder. His fingers  skated under the hem of her shorts. Then they slid back down. He heard  her swallow. She shifted, but she didn't protest. She seemed to be  alert, attentive, waiting. Wanting?

Wanting what he wanted? Lukas eased her around so that she curved  toward him, one of her feet on the bench, her knee bent, the foot  dangling off where she sat on his lap. Now when his fingers slid up her  legs, he had room to explore, to learn the warmth and softness of her  inner thighs, to venture farther to the lacy edge of her underwear.