Page 27 of Lucky's Trouble

This level of intimacy should feel awkward since I barely know the guy, but it doesn’t. Not at all.

“I love your family. They’re really great.”

“And that’s making you cry?”

“A little.”

He nods when he sees how true my statement is, sliding his large palm over to cup my cheek. The scratch of his chapped skin feels good, and I find myself leaning into his touch, even though sane me would never allow this. Instead, I should push him out of the bathroom and get myself together on my own. Still, I allow it because, in this moment, I’m vulnerable and raw.

“Why?”

“I started my period today. I’m hormonal.” What does it say about me that I’d rather lie about being on the rag than admit my true feelings? I don’t have time to think about that, though, because his thumb strokes my cheek, sending a rush of warmth to my core.

“Tinleigh.”

“What?”

“Stop lying to me and tell me what’s got you so worked up.” The hand that’s not cupping my face and sending shockwaves throughout my body snakes around my middle and draws me closer.

“I just didn’t have that growing up.” I shrug and feel awkward with him touching me as I dangle my arms at my sides, so I reach under his cut and rest them on his hips. It shouldn’t be a big deal since I’ve been touching him there all day while on his bike, but this feels different, more intimate or something.

“You had shit parents,” he says like it’s a fact, and it is.

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense.”

“What does?” This close and personal, I spot a scar on his cheek that dips down into his beard, and I wonder how he got it.

There’s a lot about this man I want to know. It makes no sense. He pisses me off, he challenges me, and he makes me do things I don’t want to do. So why do I want to spend hours getting to know him before spending even more hours riding the monster cock I know he has? I felt it at the club and saw the outline of it in his jeans.

“Why you freaked out when we got here. And why you’re in here and not out there inhaling my mom’s food.”

“I left all that behind a long time ago, but being here and seeing how great they are. . . it just brought up some bad memories.”

“Sorry you went through that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“You’re right. It’s not.” I blink and realize we’re mere inches apart now. How did that happen? Did I lift up closer to him? Or did he dip lower to me?

“Tinleigh?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now. If that’s not okay, tell me now because I’m fuckin’ dying to taste your lips.”

Myla’s warnings are a billboard in my head, flashing with bright red letters. Lucky’s off-limits. Lucky is a fuck ’em and leave ’em’ kind of guy. But I’ve always been good at ignoring what’s best for me, especially when it involves a man.

I shift my gaze to his lips. The upper one is all but covered by his wiry beard, but the lower one? It’s out in the open, and I can’t think of anything other than how good it would feel pressed to mine.

Tipping my head back just a little more is all the invitation he needs. His mouth is on mine, and my hands roam up his body, stopping on his broad shoulders, mostly because that’s as far as I can reach. His lips are warm and taste of his lunch, but that’s okay because I’m sure that’s how I taste too. Besides, like he said, his mom’s cooking is really good.

His facial hair tickles my skin as our lips move together, and I decide I like the way it feels. Even if it gives me a beard burn, it’s worth it to have him this close. His tongue swipes along the seam of my lips, asking for entrance that I grant. In for a penny, in for a pound.

In an ultimate dance of tempting and teasing, he lifts me up by the back of my thighs and turns before backing me up against the bathroom door. My legs are too short to lock him in position, so I squeeze my thighs around his middle, which only makes the pulsing of my clit thrum harder. Especially when I feel the steel rod of his cock press into me.

---