Page 98 of Be Your Anything
I spin in his arms, not wanting his careful caress, and press my lips to his. I shove my tongue in his mouth, my hands holding the back of his head.
Things between us are supposed to be sexy and happy and amazing. Not broken and weepy and sad.
Lucas pulls back and looks at me, confusion warring with desire. “Lennon…”
But I don’t let him speak, pulling him back down so our mouths meet again.
“Please,” I whisper, my hands dropping to his shorts and beginning to push them down his hips. I nearly choke when I say it again. “Please.”
I feel him relent, his hands beginning to rove over my body, his hardness beginning to grow between us. Once he’s naked, I take him in hand and stroke him up and down, pressing kisses to his chest and arms and anywhere I can reach.
He groans, batting my hand out of the way and stooping so he can press his face into my chest. He licks and nips at me, leaving little marks I know will fade after he’s gone.
We touch and tease, giving ourselves these final moments.
When I push him backwards, he takes a seat on the bench along the opposite wall, and then I climb onto his lap.
His eyes watch mine as I reach between us and take him in hand, closing only slightly as I take him inside.
I cry out, from the pleasure and the bite of pain.
Because with Lucas, I’ll always get both.
And then he watches me.
Watches as I rise and fall against him.
As I whimper because it feels so good.
As I try to tell him with my body that what we have is almost perfect.
Almost good enough.
That if he could just love me instead…
My body breaks and I fall apart in his arms. His hands cling to me, his nails dig into my skin as he follows, his long moan of pleasure filling the small space around us.
We hold each other like that for a long moment, allowing ourselves the final seconds, the chance to catch our breath, to come down together.
It’s only then that I realize this is the first time we’ve had sex and not pretended to be anything other than ourselves.
The irony of that slices one more gash into me.
But I don’t know if I’ve ever felt anything more painful than Lucas removing his arms from around me, knowing it will be the very last time.
CHAPTER21
LUCAS
If looks could kill, I’d be dust on the ground when I open the door to Paige’s furious face the following morning.
“Have you seen her?”
Paige storms past me. “OfcourseI’ve fucking seen her, Lucas. She’s my best friend.”
I follow in her path as she blazes into the kitchen and directly over to the liquor cabinet, going straight for the Don Julio. She pops open the top and takes a swig, then pushes the cork back in and slams the bottle back down.
“You’ve developed a little drinking problem, huh?”
