Page 64 of Spring Tide

19

HARPER

From a distance,Luca is all hard ridges and lines, a six-foot-two package comprised of rugged, sinewy muscle and worn, calloused hands. He’s aloof and carefully measured, seemingly immune to the pressures the rest of us mere mortals endure.

But up close, underneath these threadbare covers, he’s all sorts of soft. His hands are gentle. His heart is full. And his lips, they move in a perfect, tender rhythm against mine.

He curls his fingers into the hair at my nape, tugging softly, dragging me closer toward his body. I mold myself against him with a breathless sigh. Between our chests, there are only two layers consisting of a thin cotton T-shirt and my silk camisole. The lower half of our bodies remain inches apart.

Too far apart for my liking.

So I push even closer, wriggling and writhing until our bodies are flush. One hand pushes at his shoulder, urging him to turn onto his back.

“Harper?” He rasps the question of my name into my mouth, thumbs caressing both sides of my face as I maneuver on top of him.

My thighs spread apart, straddling him on the mattress, our hips aligned. I can feel ... everything from this position. My breasts brushing against his chest, nipples tight and pebbled. Breath mingling as our lips come together and fall apart.

The soft, sudden shiver that racks his body as I circle my hips. The rumble of his groan.

His hands drift from my cheeks, fingers cascading down my shoulders in a gentle caress. I disconnect our lips, dip my face into the crook of his neck, and kiss him softly in the tender spot just below his ear.

“Harper,” he sighs my name again. This time, it’s not a question.

His rough, calloused fingers move further down my body, cresting closer to the place I need him most. He traces the curve of my waist—down, down, down—and I can’t mask the sigh of pleasure that escapes my lips.

But then he stops, his thumbs digging into my hips as I press against the hard length of him. His entire body grows stiff. Now, when his lips form my name for the third time, they carry a note of warning.

“Harper, wait.”

I pull back, slightly shaken. My breath is heavy. I can hardly see the outline of his face in the dim light, but I know he’s not smiling.

His hands drop to the mattress beside his thighs. He’s no longer holding me in place, so I push upright and slide myself slightly forward, just enough so that my lower half isn’t perfectly aligned with his erection.

“What’s wrong?” My fingers twitch against my sides, desperate to trace the outline of his facial features.

Following a deep breath, he asks, “Could we ... could we slow down?”

“Oh.” I shift my body to the side and slide into the empty space beside him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s just been a while for me. I wasn’t expecting—”

“No, no, I get it.” I shift another inch away from him, embarrassment creeping up my spine. “I asked you for a kiss, but then I took it too far. I mean, I practically mauled you there.”

“You didn’tmaulme,” he rasps, appalled. “And I’m sorry I stopped like that when we, well, when you ... I know this probably isn’t what you’re used to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rejection,” he murmurs, twisting onto his side. One hand props up his chin while the other palm presses flat against the mattress. “I don’t want you to feel like I’ve rejected you because that’s not what this is.”

My chest deflates. “Luca, it’s okay if you don’t want to have sex with me.”

“That’s not—” He pauses, head shaking, lips pursed as he formulates a coherent response. “I do—I mean, I do want to. With you.”

“You do?” My voice is small, a bare whisper in the three-inch space between our lips.

“Yes.” His chin dips, gaze drifting toward the hidden bulge in his sweatpants. “I thought that ... was it not obvious?”

A tiny crooked smile twists my lips. “I mean, it sure felt like you did a minute ago.”

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