Page 74 of Lucky Strike

I glide my hands over his wet body, pausing at the long, slender scar I noticed last night near his hip bone. “What happened here?” I ask, closing my eyes as his fingers slide between my legs.

“Fight.”

I push him away a little so I can see, bending my head to examine the scar. “Were you stabbed?”

“Mhm.” He captures my mouth in another kiss as if he didn’t just tell me something disturbing, his erection pressing insistently against my stomach.

But now I’m thinking about him getting stabbed. I could’ve lost him, just like that. “Lucky …”

“It was a long time ago.” He reaches over, shutting the water off. “And I didn’t die, so don’t worry about it.”

We dry off, the lusty mood sufficiently banked. That is, until I follow a very naked Lucky into the bedroom.God. He’s always had a great body—as a teenager involved in all sorts of sports, he was a poster boy for athleticism—but now that he’s a man, he’s on another level. He is muscled but lean, his arms strong and his thighs powerful. Drops of water gleam from the ridges of his stomach and sculpted obliques. Heat rises inside me so fast I’m sure it shows.

He cuts a sideways glance my way. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might have to take you down.”

I unwrap my towel and toss it onto a chair. “I’d let you.”

Now he’s the one staring, a predatory gleam flashing over his gray eyes as I climb onto his bed. Giving his growing erection a stroke, he reaches for a bag on the floor.

There’s something so delicious about a man that comfortable with himself. I sit up on my knees, reaching for him, hungry for him. “Did you know this was going to happen?”

“What, sex?” He shrugs, tossing a condom on the bed. “I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to be ready. Just in case. Didn’t think you’d want another Liam running around.”

My stomach somersaults violently at the thought. “I’m on birth control. But I don’t do that anyway.”

“Fuck without protection?”

Another somersault. I nod, staring at his luscious, filthy mouth.

“Neither do I. Well, I guess I did, but that was a long time ago, in a committed relationship.” He takes my breast in his hand, squeezing, and leans down to kiss me. “And a kid came from that, so condoms it is.”

“It’s not just kids,” I murmur, watching him as he lays me down.

“I get physicals every year. I’m fit as fiddle.” He licks my nipple, playing with it.

Giggling, I run my fingers through his hair. “Fit as a fiddle? Okay, Grandpa.”

“Whaddya want me to say?” He laughs back, his eyes sparkling as he peeks up at me. “I’m healthy, I’m clean, my dick’s spotless.”

“Oh, my God. You’re so crass!”

“There she goes, being ambivalent again.”

Laughing, I wrap my legs around his hips. He’s still my Lucky, deep down. I love it. It’s dangerous, how much I love it.

“I’m not afraid of you getting pregnant.”

I pause at the way he worded that. “What do you mean?”

But he just smiles and swirls his tongue down my body until he’s doing things that border on obscene. I don’t ask any more questions. I can’t think when I feel this good.

In the morning,Lucky, Terry, and Mitch are packed and ready to go by the time I make it to the coffee pot. Usually, I’m one of the first ones up, but Lucky and I stayed up late. Really late. Talking and sex and laughing and more sex.

But now it’s early and I’m yawning and sore, trying to get the dogs situated so I can have my morning joe before taking them out.

“I got it,” Lucky says, squeezing my hip as he passes, his phone pressedto his ear. Summoning Shelby and Bacon with a sharp whistle, he opens the door to the deck and steps outside. The dogs go thundering by while a brisk morning breeze blows through the house, brightening it with the scent of the ocean. I’ll miss that, but I’m ready to get back to Boston.

By the time he comes back with the dogs, I’m dressed and packed. Taking my coffee into Liam’s room, I help him change out of his pajamas, then we stuff his toys and books into his backpack. The house is messier than I’d like, but I didn’t know we were leaving Mashpee until late last night. Lucky assures me the housekeepers will handle it, but I still feel like a slob.

---