Page 30 of Relentless

Me: I’m grading papers, so…

Luc: Open your door, babe.

He was here? I should ignore the bossy bastard, but the soft knocking started as more texts came through, making it nearly impossible.

Luc: It’s kinda cold out here.

Luc: I’ll beg if I have to.

Luc: I brought you a treat.

Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I got up from my chair, strolled to the door, and opened it wide. He stood there with a smirk on his face, holding a bag from Bo’s in his hands.

“Cherry cheesecake for you and Death by Chocolate cake for me.”

“What are you doing here, Luc?”

“Visiting my girlfriend.” His grin faltered as he took in my appearance. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Until then, I’d completely forgotten about changing into my favorite pair of silk pajamas. Thank the heavens they weren’t too revealing, because I was totally bare underneath. I could feel his eyes burning a hole through me when I spun around and crossed the room to resume my position at the table. He could either come in or leave, the choice was his to make, but he needed to hurry before the cold breeze from outside hit my nipples.

“Did you come here to feed me or insult me? Because if it was the latter, I’d prefer if you just go.”

“Babe,” he grunted, stepping inside and shutting the door. “You answered the door looking hot as shit. How was I supposed to react?”

He sat the bag on the table, leaned down to kiss my temple, then started rummaging through my kitchen drawers. Coming back a few seconds later with two forks, he unpacked the desserts, handing me one before sitting across from me with the other.

All the while I sat there wondering how the hell I’d lost control over my life. When I’d finally gotten out from underneath my parents’ thumb, I worked hard to keep people at arm’s length. I knew, firsthand, how devastating it was to get close to someone, only to learn they’d used you. Yet here I was, hoping against all odds the insane pull I felt toward Luc was the real deal, not just a figment of my imagination, and that maybe, just maybe, he felt it as well.

“What are we doing, Luc?”

“Spending time together?”

He said it like a question, but it was laced with amusement.

“I’m being serious here.” I took a small bite of cheesecake then swallowed the mouthful. Pointing the fork between us, I asked, “What is this?”

All traces of humor left his face when he said, “This is happening.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“And I’ll keep saying it until you understand.”

“See, that’s the problem. This was supposed to be fake—”

“I never said anything about our relationship being fake,” he cut me off. “You assumed, and I was willing to let you believe what you wanted as long as the end result was the same.”

My heart began to pound a furious rhythm against my rib cage, beating so hard I was certain it would bust through at any moment. The last bit of air in my lungs escaped through my lips with a wheeze.

Dumbfounded, I cocked my head to the side and whispered, “You want to date me?”

Setting his fork down, he scooted his chair right next to mine. His hand came to rest against the apple of my cheek as his thumb swept gently back and forth.

“Bellezza, I already am.”

Bending forward, his mouth crashed against mine with purpose. My resulting gasp allowed his tongue to sweep inside, tangling with my own. Somehow, through my lust-induced fog, I ended up on his lap, my thighs straddling his massive ones and my hands braced on his shoulders. The hand on my face slid into my hair, holding me in place while his other hand softly caressed the underside of my breast through my top.

Heat, like I’d never felt, lit up my body as he groaned down my throat. My hips began to move of their own volition when his hand moved upward, cupping me, kneading my flesh. His thumb circled my pebbled nipple, over and over, the motion sending waves of electricity like a hot wire straight to my clit.

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