He had already been up and dressed for an hour. The cottage needed a lot of work before it was livable, but I had refused his requests to stay in a hotel while he did the work. I wanted to be here, even if the kitchen needed new cabinets, even if the water heater kind of sucked. I never wanted to see another hotel again in my life. Besides, this place filled a part of me that had long been empty. The wound on my leg was healing. More than that, I was healing. Both outside and inside were a slow-ass process, I was finding, but at least it was progress.
“I got a call from the captain today,” he said.
My gaze sharpened. We had carefully avoided the subject of what would happen after his leave of absence. I strove to match his casual tone. “What did he say?”
“He asked about you.”
“Really?” I laughed in surprise. “Has he found something new to charge me with?”
I immediately regretted my outburst. The captain of the CPD had put me through hell, and I wasn’t sure I could get over that. Far worse, he’d made Luke an outcast for fighting for me. So the guy had reinstated Luke. I still didn’t have to like him.
Except I sort of did, because he was Luke’s boss. I would answer the phone when he called the house for Luke. I would see him at the department’s Christmas party. And I would deal with it, for Luke. It would just be another way of faking it.
Luke watched me with a resigned look. “You hate him.”
“He’s not my favorite person. But it’s not like I have to work for him. And when I see him, I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.” I never wanted Luke to feel ashamed of me. It was bad enough that everyone he worked with knew what I had been. That would already hang over him. I wouldn’t make it worse.
He looked amused. “You realize your best behavior is also your worst.”
A smile curved my lips. “You love that about me.” I pouted. “At least I thought you did.”
“I do.”
His voice had gone low, his eyes a dark emerald color. He teased me about how much I talked about sex, but really he loved it.
“I’ve been here a whole week,” I said in a singsong voice. “I’ll start to get a complex.”
“You’re hurt,” he said quickly. “You need to rest.”
“I have been resting. In fact, I’m exhausted from all this rest.”
“Oh yeah?” The glint in his eye said I wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.
I raised my eyebrow in challenge. “Yeah.”
He climbed up beside me. I barely had enough time to put the mug on the bedside table before he pulled me up against his body, my back to his front.
Snuggling back into the warmth of his body, I said, “Not to complain or anything, but cuddling counts as resting.”
“Hush,” he said. His hand snaked over my hip.
I sucked in a breath. It had been so long…really, never. Never exactly like this, with Luke. We had a hundred different ways to explore each other, a million times to make each other come. I looked forward to every single one.
I had taken to the habit of wearing his undershirt to bed. Now he lifted the hem from my thigh and walked his finger beneath the waistband of my panties. I jumped at the touch of his hand on my mound, realizing I hadn’t shaved all week. It had been hard enough to shower with my damn leg hurting every time a drop of water touched it. Plus it had felt kind of nice to take a shower without doing that sort of primping. Just getting clean without preparing myself for a man.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Maybe this isn’t a good time.”
His hand froze. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m…bristly.”
He laughed softly. “Bristly?”
“You know, like a beard. But less sexy.”
“I don’t know,” he mused. His fingers resumed their stroking. “I think it would be pretty hard for me not to find this sexy. A little bristle isn’t going to cut it. Besides”—he touched my clit lightly, then backed away—“this was the spot I was going for. Not bristly at all. Very smooth. Only a little wet, but we can fix that.” He dipped his finger lower, into the dampness that had pooled between my folds. Drawing it up, he circled my clit again.
“Oh, Luke.” My heart swelled along with my clit. He made me feel so wanted, inside and out. I knew he enjoyed my body—the hard ridge pressed against my ass from beneath his jeans paid testament to that—but the way he touched me, it was as if that didn’t even matter. Whether my hair was the old blonde or the lingering brown, whether my cunt was shaved or not, he was just as hard for me, just as ready.