“You keep asking questions.” His gaze never left mine. “You keep noticing things. You keep looking at me as though there’s a person underneath all of this.” He gestured vaguely toward himself. “And I don’t know how to stop wanting that.” He shivered. “Now you’re standing here. And Iknowwe said we’d wait. I knowwhywe said it.” He took another step toward me, this time stopping close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him. “But I have spent ten years being careful.” He let out a slow breath. “And right now, I don’t particularly want to be.”
My pulse went into a higher gear. My mouth went dry. I couldn’t move.
“And as for why I came back? That is your fault.”
I blinked. “What did I do?”
“You kissed me.” His gaze flickered briefly to my mouth, then back to my eyes.
For a second neither of us moved. Then Luka reached for me.
The kiss felt nothing like the first one. Yesterday I’d been the one to close the distance. This time Luka had crossed the room and taken what he wanted.
Me.
His hand was on my cheek, warm and gentle, and then his mouth was on mine, insistent, unrelenting, stripping everything else out in a single second.
I didn’t pause to take a breath.
Luka made a quiet sound against my mouth, not even trying to hide it, and it went straight through me, pulling me further in before I had the chance to think about what that meant. My tongue found his, and his groan reverberated through me. I tugged him closer, until his body was pressed against mine, warm and vital.
I paused for a heartbeat, and his hand found my nape.
“Neprestávaj.” Luka’s voice was raw.
I didn’t have a clue what he’d said, but I understood everything else: his tone, his staccato breaths, the way he leaned into me, holding me.
I took a guess. “You just told me not to stop, didn’t you?”
His breathing stuttered, and he nodded. “But maybe we should. Maybe that is wise.” He let go of me, taking a step back, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks even more flushed.
The problem was, he’d gotten me this far, and now I didn’t want to be wise.
Luka
My skinstill burned where he had touched me.
I could feel the imprint of Dean’s hands everywhere: along my jaw, at my waist, against the back of my neck where his fingers had tightened when I kissed him harder. My pulse refused to settle properly, each breath dragging in unevenly while I tried to regain enough composure to think clearly again.
“Do you really want to stop?”
Dean’s voice rolled through me low and rough, and the effect was immediate. Another shiver worked its way down my spine before I could suppress it.
If he kept speaking in that tone, I was going to lose whatever restraint I still possessed.
I looked for something to focus on. I took in my surroundings: his bed, roughly made, the pile of clothing on the chair, the skates.
My gaze caught on the bright wrappers sitting on the desk.
For a second, I didn’t understand why they mattered. Then the meaning landed.
The warmth still lingering beneath my skin evaporated. My stomach tightened.
Why did I assume this would be different?
Dean was attractive. Confident. Open. He lived in a world where this was possible.
He has choices.
