Page 22 of Royal Fling
I put the bottle down and stared at him.
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I do.”
I walked around the bar with both glasses in hand and came to stand next to him.
“Last I remember, it was my security detail and myself that were rude to you,” I said.
I passed him one glass, and he raised his hand to take the tumbler from me, freezing in that moment. Sparks electrified my skin at our touch, our proximity.
“Yeah. Yeah, you were,” he said with a laugh and took a swig.
I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and when he brought his glass back down, he licked his lips, staring at me.
I took my own swig before I did something stupid that I was going to regret.
“How do you feel?” I asked him.
He took a deep breath that made me feel hotter than the whiskey, and I took a breath of my own, hoping to inhale some of his.
“I feel good. I feel relieved. I feel happy,” he said.
“I’m happy you’re happy,” I said.
That seemed to give him pause, and he raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t even know me,” he said.
“I want to get to know you,” I said.
Maybe that was enough alcohol for me. I was starting to lose my mind.
“Do you now?” he asked, craning his neck closer to my face, burning holes in my eyes with his gaze.
“Most definitely,” I said with an audible swallow before his lips attacked mine, and I tasted the whiskey off his lips, off his fiery tongue. They set my body positively on fire, and my cock awakened on impact.
Had it been that long that the simplest of kisses alighted my insides? Or was there something about him?
Whatever it was, I simply couldn’t imagine parting lips from him because he tasted of pure perfection, and I needed more.
I felt his absence like a punch in the stomach, and I opened my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I did that.”
“I do,” I said and grabbed him by the back of the neck, bringing him back to my mouth again.
The flavor of scotch had evaporated from his mouth, so I could taste him, the real him, and that made me even harder.
There was a bang, and we pulled away from each other looking in the direction of the kitchen. Someone must have dropped something in there.
I tried to catch my breath and laughed. Luke smiled but rolled his eyes as well.
“You know your mom does that. A lot,” I said.
“We should stop,” he said.
“What if I don’t want to?” I asked.
