Page 66 of Contingently Yours
He stops ahead of me inside the room and glances at the bed. It’s a king-size with a plush white comforter and a view overlooking the city. I can already picture him naked in it, underneath me, panting, calling my name, and writhing against me when I tag that place inside of him. God, I wish I could fuck him. Typical greedy me. Jerking and rubbing cocks together is enough, but I still want more.
Unassumingly, he tugs his shirt over his head and starts toward his suitcase, sitting by the closet where the staff left it. I watch like a voyeur as he opens it and takes out a clean pair of his snug-fitting briefs. And then I watch as he unbuttons his pants and bends over, his bubble butt straining against his drawers. I don’t think the answer to a search for profound ideas is supposed to be sex, but that’s the lightbulb illuminating in my brain as I stare at his round ass. Like a magnetic pull, I want to draw closer to it. Icanfuck him.
Theoretically.
Physically.
Realistically…
And maybe even momentarily.
Ican.
I mean, what’s the difference between two fingers and a dick, really?
“Everything all right?”
Shit. I feel like I should be wiping drool from my mouth, and yet, it’s so dry, I have to peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth. “Ye-yeah.” Hoisting my phone up, I scurry to the table by the window. “Just looking for an outlet to plug my phone in while I search for flights.”
When the bathroom door closes behind him, a voice whispers to me. Ironically, it sounds a lot like Terry’s, which is disturbing as shit. Since when has my conscience adopted his tone?
‘If you do this, you know there’s no coming back from it.’
‘Well, no shit,’ I tell fake Terry. But I pause as I bring up the airline website. It’s a valid warning. This isn’t some one-night stand with a woman who has no intention of being called or calling me again. This is Lucas. Lucas, whom I’ll see at the office whenever we run into each other there. Lucas, whom I could seemore frequentlyat the office if I actually made more of an effort to show up there. My smile turns into a laugh.
Clicking on a late afternoon flight that will give us plenty of time to sleep in tomorrow, but get us back to Wilmington by dinnertime the next day, a sense of rightness washes over me. A sense of rightness that makes me a little less sad about going back home.
“Maybe I don’t want to come back from it,” I murmur.
CHAPTER 24
Lucas
Andrew is acting peculiar, even more so than usual. He’s been smiling at me strangely ever since I stepped out of the shower to find him setting up our room service delivery on the table. He told me not to wait for him when he went to shower, but that seemed rude, so I held off and checked some messages from the girls and Mom, and sent off my replies. Doing the polite thing, however, meant I sealed my fate of having dinner for two with him. I suppose I expected that was the plan when I walked into the bar earlier, but it feels different now that he’s sitting across from me in only his towel, smiling that strange smile. It’s…sweet and makes my stomach flip each time I catch it. I think it’s because I keep picturing what it would be like to see him like this in my kitchen back home. Is this the giddy feeling Julia was talking about?
There’s something in his expression, though. I swear he looks nervous, which can’t be right. Andrew doesn’t get nervous.
Setting my beer back down, my breath catches when his fingertip brushes against mine. It’s like the third time he’s done it throughout what feels like a romantic meal for two with the backdrop of the king-size bed next to us. That’s the other thing…
The Hepperlys are gone. Maybe he didn’t plan a romantic dinner for two, but we don’t have to sleep in the same bed any longer. Did he forget, or did he book a single on purpose?
“Not hungry?” He gestures to my half-eaten sandwich.
I can’t think about my stomach when I’m around him. I’m hungry, but only for Andrew. Maybe it’s this overpowering infatuation, but most of me believes thisisa romantic dinner for two. The way he sighed when I held him last night, his flirting in the bar, and how he brushed my hand in the elevator… He doesn’t even need to try. I’ve fully accepted that I’m a goner whenever he’s in the same room. Plain and simple.
Either it all ends after tonight, or it doesn’t. Either way, we still have tonight. I’m done questioning and fighting why he has this effect on me. I’ve been cautious and responsible my entire life. He’s always insinuating that I need to let go. Staring at where our hands are touching, I swallow against the lump of nerves in my throat.
Weaving my fingers into his, my voice comes out hoarse. “Just…distracted.”
When our gazes lock, the anxiety in his expression fades. It’s replaced with a smoldering look.
His fingers tighten around mine. “You’re distracting too.” His gaze canvases down my chest. “And so is that T-shirt.”
I was going to put pants on before he came out of the bathroom, but I like to air-dry. Tuft…and all that. When he strolled out in his towel and went right for the table, I thought about it for a moment but decided I’d look more foolish if I made a scene of covering up further. So, I joined him in just my underwear and this old Tractor Supply Company shirt. I didn’t think it was possible to make an old T-shirt feel sexy, but he just did with that husky delivery.
The air feels thick as I inhale and rise. Holding his gaze, I draw the hem up and over my head. I’m still in awe that he can look at me the way he does. I’m a man—I have all the same parts that he does. I don’t know how I’m fascinating to him, but that’sexactly what I see in his eyes. And it’s exactly what I think of him when he gets up with purpose and steps toward me.
His fingertips slide along my jaw. His other hand grips the love handle above my hips in a way that makes me proud of the curves I’ve acquired since my army days. My heart has never hammered this hard in my chest from an invitation.
