Page 71 of The Wake-Up Call

“Thank you.”

Thatthank yousets my teeth on edge. I put my beer down on the table a little too hard.

“Am I still required to be here?” I snap.

He recoils. “Oh. No. Of course not.”

“Right. Well, I’ll leave you to your evening, then. ’Night, Lucas.”

“Izzy.”

JustIzzyagain. I move to step away and then breathe in sharply. He’s right behind me, his hand on my arm. He moved so fast; the contact is unexpected, and I’m not steeled to it. I’m hot with anger, remembering the way it all felt last year, and the sensation of his skin on mine sends me burning even hotter. He spins me around with a tug of my arm and I look up at him. My breath is cold on my parted lips.

His expression is thunderous. I’ve seen frustration in Lucas’s eyes a hundred times, but there’s a new depth to it tonight, and I know—Iknowhe wants me.

“You drive me crazy,” he says. His voice is hoarse and his gaze is on my mouth.

I say nothing. We’re both breathing heavily, our bodies close, but I’m not letting him lead me into another proposition that he’ll knock back. If he wants something tonight, he’s going to have to make the first move.

“I’ve tried,” he says. “I’ve really, really tried. And still...”

He moves even closer, forcing my chin higher if I want to meet his gaze square-on. He’s so huge, all muscle, tightly coiled.

I can’t resist. It’s something about the way he holds himself back—it tugs at the part of me that can’t turn down a challenge. I can feel that he’s a breath away from giving in.

I brush my chest against his. He breathes in roughly and that’s it, that’sit.Whatever it was that kept Lucas hemmed in, it snaps. He kisses me.

And it’s pure fire. He tilts me back and kisses me so deeply I lose my breath and my footing all at once; he’s half lifted me, half thrown me to the sofa cushions, one hand on my thigh as I wrap my legs around him. It’s messy and fierce, the way you’d kiss if kissing was fighting. His tongue stokes mine and I dig my nails into his back. I’ve never felt a tide of desire like this—never gone under so quickly. If he wanted me now, I’d be his.

But he slows the kiss—not breaking away, just easing. Slow, languid kisses instead of hungry ones. I whimper in my throat and then turn my head aside, embarrassed by the need he’ll hear in my voice. He turns my head back with one finger and looks me right in the eye.

“If we do this,” he says, voice rough, accent strong. “Then you don’t look away from me.”

I swallow. I’m lying here, breathless, raw, and it’sLucaslooking down on me. I don’t know if it’s habit or pride, but I feel a sudden, powerful need to take the upper hand again.

“If we do this,” I counter, “then we need some rules.”

•••••

We’re sitting at either end of the sofa, eyeing each other warily. He has a cushion in his lap, like a teenage boy, and I’ve got my arms looped around my knees so he can’t tell they’re trembling.

“Why didn’t you kiss me before? In the hotel room?” I ask, clearing my throat. “Why now?”

He looks towards the French doors. They’re still open, but I don’t think either of us is feeling the cold.

“It’s like you said. Two people who hate each other, kissing...” He swallows. “It’s weird and messed up.”

“Right.” Did I mean that? Do I think that? Right now all I can think about is how good that felt, and how badly I would like to do it again. “And what’s changed, then?”

He looks down at his cushion. “What’s changed is I have stopped caring about ‘messed up.’ I want you.” He looks up. “You want me. We’re adults, we can make our own choices as long as nobody is getting hurt.”

I nod. “That’s what I think. And that’s why I think we need some rules. Do this in a sensitive, sensible way, and just get each other out of our systems once and for all.”

He flinches.

“What?” I say, already tense. I do know Lucas wants me—that’s fairly undeniable right now—but after putting myself on the line so many times, part of me is waiting for him to walk back out onto the balcony and turn cold again.

“So this happens just once?” he asks.

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