Page 72 of Backhanded Compliments

And when Juliette looks down, she gasps.

Luca Kacic is naked from the waist down anddripping.

TWENTY-EIGHTLUCA

Earlier, Luca had cringed while putting on her sweatpants without underwear, afraid she’d maybe misread what could happen after Juliette arrived.

But now, seeing Juliette’s eyes widen and her mouth fall open in an audible gasp, Luca can’t help but squirm under the appraising look.

“Efficiency,” Luca says with a smirk.

Juliette’s dark eyes flick up to hers. “Oh, you are a miracle, Luca Kacic. I want to touch every part of you.”

Luca’s pulse quickens. Juliette’s words are like a scorching hot iron, pressing against her skin and making it impossible to decipher feelings from reason.

Juliette’s hands skate up her ribs again. “Arms up,” she commands, and Luca obediently helps wriggle her own shirt off. Now, Luca is completely naked, left vulnerable beneath the woman who could easily hurt her. Juliette is still in her hoodie and shorts, but there is reverence in Juliette’s eyes, a hot want that makes something oily squirm in Luca’s chest. Without thinking, she drops her arms over her chest.

Juliette’s hands capture Luca’s wrists, peeling them away from her breasts. Juliette leans forward, pinning her hands above her head. Luca’s skin tingles, the cool air sweeping over her skin. “Don’t hide. Let me admire you.” Juliette’s voice is soft, and she frees one hand to trace a finger across Luca’s cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” she breathes.

Luca can’t meet Juliette’s gaze, her cheeks heating. The headyrush of desperate desire is so overwhelming, she wriggles one of her hands free to anchor onto Juliette’s shoulder.

“Take this off,” Luca whispers, tugging on the fabric. She finally looks up at Juliette. Her face is flushed, lips kiss-swollen, and her curls are in disarray, a frizzy halo where Luca had been pulling. Juliette lets go of Luca and obliges her. She leans back and in one swift move, she shucks the sweatshirt over her head and tosses it away. She is wearing a sports bra and Luca runs her fingers beneath the strap. “This too.”

“Bossy,” Juliette says fondly, before she wrangles herself out of it and her breasts spill free, dusky brown nipples already pebbled in the cool air. “Don’t hide your face. I want to see your reactions.” She wriggles out of her jean shorts and tosses them over her shoulder.

Luca hates that a flush spreads across her face and down her neck. She grabs Juliette’s waist, holding on to her. For weeks Luca has been overwhelmed by want and desire, but now she is being crushed under the anxiety of what is currently happening between them.

Juliette pauses, her fingers trailing up to Luca’s jaw, cupping her face gently. “Do you still want this? We can stop,” she whispers, her eyes big and kind.

Luca does want this, but she is terrified. What if Juliette hurts her like her ex did? Luca wants love. What if Juliette only wants sex?

Well, Luca also wants sex. Her skin is buzzing, and she thinks she might die if Juliette doesn’t touch her soon. “I don’t know. I can’t.” She can’t seem to form full sentences.

Juliette pulls back, giving her space to breathe. “Are you okay?”

Luca nods, collecting her spinning thoughts. “Be careful, okay?”

Juliette’s eyes soften and she nods. “Of course.” Her head tilts and she brushes her lips across Luca’s cheekbone. Every thought in Luca’s brain goes mushy and fuzzy. “Trust me, I want to take care of you.”

Juliette’s words are like honey over her aching heart, and Luca can’t help but believe her. Juliette presses her face into the curve of Luca’s neck, breath hot on her ear. “And even if I break you into pieces, I’ll put you back together.”

Luca leans back and nods. “Okay,” she murmurs, feeling a little dizzy and far too hot. She squirms and Juliette moves with her, giggling.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Juliette says, peppering kisses across Luca’s face.

Luca’s eyes pop open. “What do you think about?”

Juliette’s breath hitches. “Your lips,” she murmurs, her fingertips brushing across Luca’s lower lip. “Your eyes, your accent.” Luca laughs. “The way you looked that first morning, soaked in sweat and your shirt transparent and showing off your perfect body.” Juliette’s fingertips drift across Luca’s sharp shoulders, her thumbs brushing her collarbones. The touch is light, but it’s like being struck by lightning. “I’ve been thinking about how I want to know you. Every part of you,” Juliette continues, taking her time to explore Luca’s skin.

Luca wants to say that Juliette is lying, that she can’t possibly want to know her. That Luca’s only talent is tennis, and she is a coward too terrified to live and love. But Juliette’s fingers coast across her ribs and it almost tickles, which cuts off every coherent thought.

Luca’s muscles twitch and she wriggles, unable to stay entirely still. Juliette clicks her tongue and flicks Luca’s nipple. The sting is instant and sharp, and she gasps, unsure if she should arch her chest up or curl away. Juliette flicks the other before she soothes the slight burn with a brush of her thumb across the tip.

“Fuck,” Luca breathes.

“And you saidI’msensitive,” Juliette says, her thumb making lazy circles around one of the buds. Luca’s eyes nearly cross, spikes of pleasure roil through her, and she rocks her hips up. Juliette leans down, her hot breath brushing across Luca’s breast. “You’re trembling,” Juliette whispers against her skin.

“You’re good at this,” Luca whispers back, digging her fingers into Juliette’s shoulders to anchor herself.

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