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Christie slumped back against her couch, her feet up on the coffee table in front of her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this tired. Every part of her body was exhausted. Her feet ached, her legs were Jell-O, her hands hurt, and her eyelids were heavy. A bone-deep weariness weighed her down, and she yawned. She’d barely had the energy to shower and pull on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt when she’d gotten home.
A knock sounded from her front door, and she smiled. “It’s open,” she called, not wanting to get up to answer it.
The door swung open and Luke stepped inside carrying a pizza box with a six pack of beer balanced on top. He kicked the door closed behind him and hefted the box, smiling. “Hey, beautiful. Thought you could use some comfort food after your long day.”
She smiled and pushed up off the couch, suddenly feeling much less weary. Just the sight of him energized her. She kissed him briefly on the lips, and hot, electrical pulses snapped through her, waking her up even more. “This is really thoughtful.” She took a deep breath and moaned. “Oh God, that pizza smells good. I’ll grab some plates, and we can put a movie on in the living room.”
As she collected plates and napkins, it struck her that she was in sweats, with wet hair and no makeup, and she didn’t feel embarrassed or self-conscious at all. Normally, at this early stage of the relationship, she would’ve been loath to let her boyfriend see her like this. But everything was different with Luke. She didn’t feel the need to twist herself inside out trying to impress him, and it felt good. Really good. She was able to be herself with him, and it felt right.
If only she could work up the courage to open up about her past.
She sank down onto the couch beside him, and with Home Alone playing in the background, they ate in companionable silence. Two slices and a beer later, she moved the food into the kitchen and then settled back down on the couch beside him, curling into his strong, solid warmth. Nuzzling her face into his neck, she inhaled, pulling his scent into her. Her stomach swirled invitingly, and she kissed the spot just below his ear. “You smell good,” she said, and he stroked a hand over her still-damp hair.
“So do you.” He slipped a hand under her chin and tilted her face up to meet his gaze. “If you’re too tired, I understand,” he said, and kissed her softly on the lips, “but I want you so much right now. God.”
At his words, her thighs clenched and her entire body buzzed with awareness. She climbed into his lap, straddling him. She smiled and shook her head. “Not too tired.”
He made a low, approving rumble, tangling his fingers in her hair as he brought her mouth to his. Between heated kisses, he worked her sweatshirt over her head, and then her yoga pants down over her hips, somehow managing to get rid of his own clothes in the process. She was too busy basking in how damn good his mouth felt—on her lips, on her neck, on her shoulders and breasts—to pay attention to anything else. Within minutes, they were both naked, and she was once again straddling him on the couch.
She rocked against him, slicking his cock through her wet folds, and his hips jerked up. They both moaned at the same time, and she did it again, rubbing her clit against the plump head of his cock.
His hands shook slightly as he reached for the condom he’d pulled from his wallet and rolled it on. She lifted her hips and sank down onto him, slowly, savoring every inch of his body inside hers. His hands cradled her back and their eyes met as she sank all the way down. For a moment, neither of them spoke or moved. She hardly dared to breathe.
“Christie,” he whispered, flexing his hips up. His eyes were dark and bright, shining with emotion, and her heart set off at a gallop in her chest.
She began rocking her hips in a slow, steady rhythm. His body filled hers, and as she continued to rock her hips, she buried her face in his neck, wanting to feel more of his skin against hers. She ground against him and he gripped her ass firmly, guiding her movements, pushing them both to the brink.
“I want to feel you come, sweetheart.” His voice was low and rough, and she moaned, rocking faster and harder against him, grinding her throbbing clit against the base of his cock. The first wave of her orgasm hit, and everything in her body tightened, clenching around him. Luke threw his head back and groaned, pumping his hips, prolonging the aftershocks of her orgasm. After several more hard, deep thrusts, he came, her name falling from his lips.
* * *
December 13
“Christie, can you please pass the rice?” asked Ethan. A gentle kind of warmth spread over her, because it was the first time he’d called her by her first name, not Dr. Harmon.
“Sure,” she said, and as she handed him the dish, Luke’s eyes caught hers, crinkling slightly as he smiled.
She took a bite of her pork chop, but she found it hard to swallow around the lump in her throat. She didn’t have words for the emotions churning through her, sitting here at Luke’s kitchen table, eating dinner with him and his son. It felt so incredibly natural. So right and good. And yet she couldn’t suppress the tiny fear that it would all be snatched away from her.
She hadn’t told him about the naked pictures, about having to quit her job in Tulsa, about the lawsuit and the scandal yet. She had to, she knew. But every time she worked up the courage, she couldn’t find the right words. And then, when she did find the right words, her courage had long fled.
She studied the Christmas tree by the fireplace in the living room, visible from her seat at the table, staring at it until her eyes went unfocused and the lights and decorations blurred into sharply glowing pricks of light. It wasn’t that she thought Luke would reject her because of what she’d done. He was a good man. But he had his son to think of. His reputation, his business, his place in the community.
Maybe she was blowing it all out of proportion. Maybe she’d let the cruel, unkind words of others sink in too deep. She didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Christie, you should come skating with us. We’re going to Nana and Grandpa’s for dinner on Saturday, and they have an ice rink in their backyard.” Ethan pushed some peas around on his plate as he spoke.
“Oh, I, uh . . .” She bit her lip and looked up at Luke, not sure if he was on board with this invitation. He looked just as surprised as she felt. Apparently, Ethan had caught them both off guard.
Luke’s eyes held hers, and then he glanced between her and his son. She could almost hear him thinking from across the table. She understood that inviting her would likely mean introducing her to his parents, another big step forward in their relationship.
His eyebrows raised slightly, and she knew he was asking her if she wanted to meet the rest of his family or not. Giving her the out if she wasn’t ready.
Was she ready? Was it fair of her to get in deeper with him?
Ethan burped loudly, and Luke’s head swiveled in his direction. “Dude, where are your manners?”
“Excuse me.” He giggled, and Christie couldn’t help but smile. He was so freaking cute, with those blue eyes and infectious smile, so like his dad’s. She wondered if Luke wanted more kids. It was far too soon in their relationship to have that talk, but the fact that she was even thinking in that direction . . .
