Holly didn't stir. Only her breathing quickened as Lukas explored the lacy boundary, stroked along it, then dipped beneath.
Holly sucked in a breath. He felt her tremble. Or was that him?
Lukas had had sex before, but not like this. He'd been in too much of a hurry before, too eager for his own pleasure, unaware-for his sins-of the girl he was sharing it with.
He wasn't unaware of Holly. Yes, his body was clamoring for completion, but Lukas ignored it, more interested in Holly than in himself. What would make her tremble? What would make her moan?
He desperately wanted to know Holly's mysteries, wanted to bring her pleasure even as he made her his own. So his fingers trembled as he parted her and touched the warm wetness of her. He knew what that wetness meant. It made him harder than ever. His fingers slipped between her folds, stroked her, and reveled in the way she arched against his touch, making a sound deep in her throat.
He wanted to tear her clothes off, and his. He wanted to plunge into her and take her with an urgency he'd never before been able to control. But tonight he forced himself to go slow, to give, not just to take. To draw a response from Holly even as his whole body trembled with the need of her. Then he heard it again-another whimper, and she was no longer holding perfectly still. Her hips had begun to rock in counterpoint to the rhythm of his stroking. Her thighs parted, giving him greater access.
Eagerly, Lukas took it, reveled in it. It didn't matter now what his body wanted. He wanted this-for her.
It was only moments until Lukas felt Holly begin to tremble against the stroke of his fingers. She shuddered, her hips rocking, her breaths coming in quick gasps. Then her whole body seemed to ripple as tremors coursed through her, rapidly first, then gradually abating as she buried her face against his shoulder.
Lukas cupped her, didn't let go as he felt tiny aftershocks against his fingers. In his lap Holly barely seemed to be breathing now. He could feel her heart hammering, but she didn't move. On the knife's edge of desire, Lukas didn't move, either. Didn't even breathe. Just waited.
Dared to hope.
Then, as if she were just discovering that she could move her limbs, Holly began to move. Her movements were stiff, almost if she were coming back to life. Then her fingers uncurled from his sweatshirt and abruptly she shoved herself away from him, wobbling as she stood.
Lukas reached out to help her get her balance, but she jerked away, wrapping her arms across her breasts. "Take me home." There was a hoarse, almost desperate edge to her voice. She didn't look at him.
"What?" Lukas stared at her, stunned. "Take you-? But-"
He reached for her again, but Holly twisted away.
"I want to go home." Holly's voice was low and shaking. She tried to move past him toward the stern. "Now."
Lukas blocked her way and caught her by the arms. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen! "Why? What's the matter with you?"
Holly lifted her face and gaped at him. "What's the matter with me? You don't know? You have no idea? You just- We just-" Her voice was shrill. He'd never heard it like that before.
She didn't finish the sentence, just yanked her arm out of his grasp and pushed past him, scrambling over the side of the boat and onto the dock. She set off toward the car, barefoot, never glancing back.
Lukas stared after her, dazed, confused, and still aroused enough that it almost hurt. He couldn't even move, and she was practically running. She stopped at the car, opened the door, jumped in and banged it shut after her. If she'd had the keys, no doubt she'd have driven off and left him there!
What the hell was wrong with her? He hadn't done anything she hadn't wanted! She'd had every opportunity to say no. It wasn't as if he'd actually done anything-as his body was only too willing to complain about!
Lukas winced and swore under his breath as he began to move about the boat, gathering up her dress and shoes, and his own clothes. His arousal began to abate a bit, but his fury and bafflement were growing exponentially as he stuffed his feet into a pair of deck shoes, then began to close up the boat. He took his time, grinding his teeth the whole while.
Only when he was sure his dad wouldn't even know he'd been here did he head back to the car. Holly was sitting in the front seat, looking mutinous, staring straight ahead. It was hard to equate her rigid, icy posture with the girl who had minutes before melted in his arms.
It wasn't hard. It was impossible.
Lukas tossed her dress and shoes on her lap. "You forgot something." His voice was bitter, ragged, raw. He couldn't help it.
Holly wadded them into a ball and wrapped her arms around them, still refusing to look at him.
Lukas flung himself into the driver's seat and stuck the key into the ignition, but he didn't turn it on. He just sat and stared at her for a long moment, willing her to face him, to talk to him, to admit that she'd wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
But Holly clearly wasn't admitting anything. Jaw tight, arms hugging her dress and shoes, she just said again, "Take me home."
He didn't move. "You're going to pretend it didn't happen?" he demanded. "It happened."
"I didn't want it to happen!" In the harsh glare from the lights of the parking lot, her eyes spat fire. "I love Matt!"
Lukas felt her words like a blow to the gut.
"You did, though." Holly's eyes glistened. Were those tears that were accusing him? "You got what you wanted, though," she said bitterly. "Didn't you?"
And wasn't that the joke of the century?
What he wanted? He wanted Holly understanding-and welcoming-his feelings. He wanted Holly recognizing her own feelings for him.
Had he got that? Not even close, Lukas thought, his throat tightening. Yes, those were tears brimming. As he watched, one slid down her cheek.
Perilously close to crying himself, Lukas didn't bother to answer. He started the car.
In silence, he drove her home.
CHAPTER FOUR
LUKAS LEFT THE next morning.
Thank God his father, intending to go to Greece on family business, had jumped at the chance to send Lukas instead.
So Lukas had never had to face Matt, had never been forced to lie to his best friend's face about what had happened that night. He'd lain awake for hours after he'd dropped Holly off. He'd spent them tossing and turning, reliving every moment, aching with unfulfilled desire as well as the growing guilt and shame that came with finally admitting to himself that he'd misjudged everything, that he'd betrayed his best friend.
It was a blessed relief to get to the airport, to put miles between himself and the scene of the previous night's debacle and the people he didn't want to face.
He didn't call Matt. Instead, he sent a text from the airport, explaining the trip to Greece was a business emergency, that there was no choice, he had to go.
It was the truth.
But the bigger truth was that he didn't want to face Matt. And he couldn't face Holly.
He was raw and aching, and he could barely think about what had happened the night before without flinching away from the memory. He'd been so gratified at her response, had barely believed it was happening, yet at the same time thought he was proving a point. If she was responding, she had to realize that she couldn't blithely marry one man when she had feelings for someone else. For him.
But evidently she hadn't. She'd been furious.
So why had she let him touch her if she felt that way?
Lukas never did figure that out. And he sure as hell had no one to ask. Finally, he told himself it was just one of the mysteries of women. But it hadn't helped.
God knew what Holly thought of him after that night. Lukas didn't want to know. He knew what he thought of himself-that he had betrayed them all that night by taking what he wanted, by being selfish and immature and greedy. He couldn't have Holly. He had no right to her.
She didn't love him. She loved Matt.
Lukas felt sick.
The family business on Santorini had taken all of five days, but afterward Lukas hadn't gone back to New York. He'd stayed the whole summer in Greece building boats with his grandfather and crewing for a company that rented high-end sailboats for vacationers on the Mediterranean.
And while he stayed away, a tiny part of him dared hope that Holly would realize in retrospect what she hadn't realized that night-that she loved him.
But by autumn he knew it wasn't going to happen. He never heard a word from Holly. And all he had from Matt was a handful of emails. The first had thanked him for being a good sport and taking Holly to the prom, the second said that Holly reported that they'd had a good time, the third wondered when Lukas was coming home so they could work on the sailboat.