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“I know, but…”
“But?” He grazed his teeth over her jaw.
“I don’t know,” Luna whispered.
His hands cupped her breasts, circling over the material that covered them.
“So good,” she breathed.
The pressure inside Luna grew as his hand found her thigh and slid beneath the hem of her skirt.
She couldn’t focus on anything but this man. Couldn’t form rational thought or words; her focus was Nash. His hands, his mouth, and the sensations traveling through her.
“I want you,” he whispered, his mouth inches from hers. “I have since I first saw you.”
He undid two of her shirt buttons. His tongue then traced the V between her breasts, and she shuddered. Arching into him, she felt the hardness between her thighs.
“Nash?”
“I know.”
“We can’t.” Her head fell back, hitting the wall as large fingers traced the edge of her panties.
“I think this is the way.”
The voice had them freezing. Nash grabbed her waist and walked her sideways, deeper into the shadows. Luna pulled down her skirt and did up her buttons.
He then pressed her into the wall as two people walked past the entrance to the alley. Holding her breath, Luna hoped they weren’t seen.
“They’re gone.” His voice was hard. “Luna, I—”
“Don’t.” She pushed, and he stepped back. “I-I don’t know what that was, or why it happened, but it’s not happening again.” She walked away from him and out of the alley.
What was the matter with her? They’d gone at it like hormone-driven teenagers. She’d never behaved like that before. If anyone had seen her, the chocolate eating would have been forgotten and her reputation would have been damaged. Yes, she’d kissed men before, but not in an alley up against a wall, with a man’s hand up her skirt.
It was like she was suddenly someone else. When Nash had touched her, she’d simply melted into a puddle of need.
“Luna McKinley!”
She forced a smile onto her face as four women came toward her. Early twenties, she guessed. All were glaring at her.
“Just what I need.” She shot a look over her shoulder but saw no sign of Nash.
“We just saw pictures of you eating chocolate. You’re a total fake!” one of them said.
“You don’t eat chocolate?” Luna asked, hoping she didn’t have that just-made-out look about her.
Her question threw them, but they rallied and advanced on her. It didn’t worry her. She’d been standing up for herself and her siblings since she was a child.
“At least Olivia Tyler is real,” one of them said.
“Sure,” Luna said, deciding it was time to leave. She didn’t have it in her to go toe to toe with these women right now. In fact, she wanted to run back to the Lodge and pack her things and leave town. Perhaps she was having a breakdown? Or a midlife crisis in her early thirties? Everything pointed to it being something like that, surely.
What just happened in that alley?
“And thanks for posting those pictures, by the way.” Clearly her words had been right, as one of them dropped her eyes.
“You preach all this healthy living BS, yet you’re a fake.”
