“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice raw, his blue eyes wide and wild. “Fuck, fuck?—”
I didn’t smile, I was suddenly horrified I’d done this, scared, confused.
Shit.
Chapter 15
Lucas
The second I saw the horror and regret twist his features, something inside me snapped. My chest burned, my dick still half-hard and aching in my jeans, my lips swollen from kissing him. I turned on my heel and bolted for the front room, my boots pounding on the wood, my pants slipping dangerously low on my hips with every step. The denim was rough against my skin, and I nearly tripped, my hand slamming the wall to steady myself. The sound of Jesse calling my name followed me, sharp and desperate, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The anger burned off fast. What was left was the ache in my hip, loud now that nothing else was drowning it out.
“Lucas—wait?—”
I took the stairs as best I could, my breath coming in short, furious bursts. My cock throbbed with every jarring step, a cruel reminder of how fucking stupid I’d been. I shoved the door open so hard it crashed into the wall, thecrack of wood on wood echoing through the house like a gunshot.
Then, I spun around and shoved it shut behind me, the force rattling the frame. The lock clicked into place with a finality that made my teeth clench. My hands were shaking. I pressed my back to the door, my chest heaving, my dick still trapped painfully in my jeans, andfuck, my hip! My pants were damp at the crotch, sticky with cum, and I wanted to rip it all off, to scrub my skin raw until I couldn’t smell him on me anymore. But I didn’t move. I just stood there, listening to the silence, waiting for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs.
They never came.
A laugh clawed its way up my throat, bitter and hollow. Of course, he wasn’t coming after me. Why the hell would he? He’d gotten what he wanted—release, control, whatever the fuck this had been to him—and now he was probably downstairs pretending none of this had ever happened.
My fingers curled into fists. The coppery tang of blood filled my mouth—I hadn’t even realized I’d bitten down on the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. Fuck. Fuck.
I pushed off the door and stumbled toward the bed, my pants still hanging obscenely low. My shirt was wrinkled, the fabric clinging to the sweat on my back, and I tore it over my head, throwing it across the room. My boots followed, kicked off with enough force to send them skidding into the wall. The bed frame groaned as I collapsed onto the mattress, my face buried in the pillow.
I smelled like him.
Not strongly—just a faint trace of that ranch-simple soap he used, the same scent that had filled the hallways when I’d had my mouth on his, his hands on my cock—but it was enough. Enough to make my stomach twist, enough to make my dick twitch traitorously against my thigh. I flipped the pillow over, pressing my face into the cool side, my breath coming in short, sharp bursts.
I shouldn’t have done it. I knew I shouldn’t have done it. But the way he’d looked at me—as if he was urging me to push or needed me to—had been overwhelming. The way my body had responded, the way my lips had parted under his, the way he’d begged?—
A knock at the door made me jolt upright.
“Lucas.” Jesse’s voice was muffled but clear, laced with something I didn’t recognize. Not anger or disgust. Something worse—uncertainty. “Open the door.”
I didn’t answer. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
“Please.”
Thepleasesomehow worked. It made my hands clench into fists again, my nails biting into my palms. I swung my legs off the bed and stormed to the door, yanking it open before I could stop myself. Jesse stood there, his shirt buttoned up again, his hair slightly disheveled, his jaw set. His eyes flicked down to my bare chest, then lower, and he swallowed.
“What?” I snapped.
He hesitated. For the first time since I’d known him, Jesse Knox hesitated. His gaze darted back up to mine, and whatever he saw there made his expression falter.
“I didn’t—” He stopped. Swallowed then tried again. “I didn’t mean to react like that.”
A laugh burst out of me, sharp and humorless. “No? Then, howdidyou mean to react, Cowboy? Because from where I’m standing, it looked an awful lot like whatever we did, that you were part of, you regretted every second of it.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not?—”
“Save it.” I moved to slam the door shut, but his hand shot out, catching the edge. I stared at his fingers, at the way his knuckles were white from gripping so hard, and something inside me twisted.
“Let go,” I growled.
“No.” His voice was low, rough. “Not until you listen to me.”
“You won’t listen to me, so I’m sure as hell not listening to you.”
