Page 60 of Pucking Sweet

He grins, crossing his arms as he leans against the elevator wall.

“Hey,youtry to flamingo in heels.”

“Try it in skates, and I’ll try it in heels.”

The doors shut behind me. “Oh,shoot.”

If he’s really going to turn me down right now, I need to be able to make a quick exit. I slam my thumb on the “door open” button and step out. Holding the door with my hand, I give this one last try. “Okay, look, I’m tipsy, but I’m not drunk. I’m tired and lonely and sad and yeah, let’s face it, I’m pretty much a hot mess. But I’m also horny, and for one night only I am saying yes. So, if you want the universe to hand you something without you having to fight for it for once, then here I am. Now, are you in or out?”

He searches my face, those caramel eyes unraveling me. Then the corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk. “Show me the flamingo again.”

“Goodnight, Lukas.” I let the door go, spinning away. “Hope the elevator doesn’t crash,” I call over my shoulder.

He laughs, following me out. “Poppy, wait.” He wraps his hand around my wrist.

I try to tug free. “Let me go.”

He weaves his fingers in with mine, holding on as he follows me down the long, narrow hallway. “Pop—”

“I’ve had enough emotional battering for one day, and I really can’t bear to be teased by you right now. So,please, just go back to the elevator—”

“I never said no.”

I glance over my shoulder. He’s still holding my hand, his grip steady, calm as a rock. I search his face, taking comfort in the familiar gold flecks in his pretty caramel eyes. “Then whatareyou saying?”

Lukas sighs, glancing around. “I’m saying, if we do this, we both know it will be a terrible mistake.”

“Huge,” I whisper, heart in my throat.

His hand brushes along my shoulder and down my arm, raising gooseflesh as he goes. “I mean, it’s me.” His hand starts trailing back up, and I think I’m going to melt into the floor. “And it’s you…”

I lean into him, my free hand resting on his hip. “I’m well aware that you’re an obnoxious, egotistical ass.”

He cups my cheek, his fingers smoothing my hair back as he wraps his hand around to hold my nape. These points of connection feel magnetic—his hand in mine, my fingers brushing the curve of his hip. Neither of us can pull away.

“And you’re a ball-busting harpy witch,” he assures me. “But you’re also so gorgeous you knock the air out of my chest when you walk in the fucking room.”

I tip my head back. “And you make my tongue feel like it’s too big for my mouth.”

“And that’s—” He blinks, pulling away slighting. “Wait, is that a good thing?”

“Apparently.” I slip my hand under the hem of his shirt, my fingers brushing the bare skin of his side.

He jolts. In a blink, he’s cursing and backing away from me, nearly hitting his hip on the little decorative side table holding a tacky gold lamp. “Fuck, we need ground rules.” He drags both hands through his hair, which just puts his tatted biceps ondisplay, flexing those chest muscles in his too-tight shirt. “Come on, you’re the rule-maker here. Tell me what I can do. Better yet, tell me what Ican’tdo before I lose my fucking mind.”

“One night only,” I say.

“Obviously.”

“And no one can know.”

“Duh. Do you have any idea what this would do to my reputation if it got out? No good-time bunny would ever look at me twice again.”

“Why?”

“Uhh,hello.” He waves a frantic hand at me from head to toe. “Look at you.”

I brush a self-conscious hand down the front of my dress. “What’s wrong with me?”

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