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We haven’t kissed since the wedding, if you don’t count the kisses when we’re in public. But that’s all for show.
What isn’t for show is how they’re also the match to the slow-burning fuse that leaves me sexually frustrated all day and all night. Frustration fueled by Lucas’s words when he told me during the reception he wanted me to remember how it felt when he was inside me.
“That’s true, too,” he says.
We finish our food in silence, a tension charging the air between us. I squirm on the spot and watch a duck poke his head under the water, his butt sticking up in the air.
“Why did you stop writing me letters while I was in Afghanistan?” Lucas’s question is one I hadn’t expected to hear. Not now. Not anytime.
I squirm again. “I guess I became too busy with work. I lost track of time. And then the next thing I knew, you were no longer with the Marines.” It’s a lame excuse, but it’s the best I can do without opening Pandora’s Box.
“I wrote to you several times after you stopped writing, but you never wrote back.”
The truth to his words kicks my heart, feeds my guilt. “I didn’t realize. I never received them.” More like I never opened them.
I feel his gaze on me. Mine is still on the ducks, afraid if I look at him, he’ll see the truth in my eyes.
“I meant it, Simone, when I said I want to make this marriage work. I know we got married for the wrong reasons, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want a normal marriage.”
This time I do look at him. “I want that, too. I want a normal marriage.” Or as normal as it can be given we’re not in love.
“That means kissing whenever we want.” Lucas rests his hand on my thigh and leans in, caressing my lips with his. “And I want to be able to kiss you in whatever way I crave.” He deepens the kiss, and I eagerly welcome him in.
His other hand cradles the back of my head, and the world beyond the willow branches disappears.
His calloused fingertips trace up the inside of my thigh, the sensation rough and teasing. I don’t try to stop him. I stay perfectly still, wordlessly pleading for them to keep traveling north.
His fingers reach the seam of my shorts. A moan slips from my mouth, and I slowly roll back, vertebra by vertebra, onto the grass. Our tongues continue to stroke and explore, remind, and remember.
God…oh God, I can’t remember the last time it felt this way…this way with another man.
Lucas nudges my legs apart a little more, and his fingers press against my mound, hidden under the cotton of my shorts and panties. “Do you want me to stop?” His question is a warm breath fanning my lips.
“No.” The word tumbles out on a shameless gasp.
“Good.” He resumes the gentle pressure as his fingers draw tight circles.
The tension between my legs grows tauter and tauter until I can’t take it anymore. An orgasm, more intense than anything I’ve felt in a while, explodes through my body, pulling me off the grass like a tightly drawn bow. Oh. God.
Lucas’s lips curve into a smug smile, and he kisses me one more time.
“Thank you,” I get out between panted breaths. “It’s been a while.”
“Define a while.”
I do the mental math and give up. Math was never my best subject. “Well, it depends if we’re talking about a man or me doing the pleasuring.”
Lucas’s head flops forward, resting on my shoulder. “Christ, the image of that last part is killing me.” He lifts his head. “I don’t wanna know about specific men, but if we’re talking hypotheticals, then yes, how long has it been since a man gave you an orgasm?”
“A few years, I guess.” At his raised eyebrows, I add, “I was busy with work, trying to get ahead. Dating wasn’t a priority.”
“You don’t have to date to have sex.”
“You’re right, you don’t. But I wasn’t into one-night stands either, so that left me with being celibate.” I laugh at the confusion lining his face. “Contrary to what most guys think, no one has ever died from not having regular sex.”
Lucas pushes himself to sit. “I know that. Believe me, I know that more than anyone.”
He checks his phone and sighs. “I have to head back to work now. The last thing I need is to piss off my boss, even if he is my brother. I’ll see you later when I come over to help Rose with her exercises.” He flashes me my favorite panty-soaking grin. “Be prepared for a make-out session when I get there to rival any we did in college.”
