Page 93 of A Very Merry Enemy
“I want you so bad it fucking hurts,” he finally admits. “But I won’t touch you, Holiday. I won’t kiss you. I will refuse your every move until you know whatyouwant in life. I’m not a toy.”
“I want?—”
“Don’t you dare sayme.” He leans closer. “Figure your shit out.”
“Will you wait for me?”
“I’ve been waiting fifteen years.”
Our gazes lock, and in that moment, I believe everything will be okay. Tears fill my eyes and I wipe them away. “I don’t deserve you.”
“And see, that’s where you’re wrong. You do. But we have a lot of catching up to do. We’re the same at our core, but we’re also different, older. We’ve been apart for almost as long as we knew each other.”
The timer goes off, and I know our game time of Confessions has closed.
He stands and holds out his hand. “Come on.”
I take his hand and let him pull me up. My body is buzzing with bourbon as he leads me to the small tent.
“We need to sleep off this booze,” he tells me, unzipping the flap. I climb inside, and I’m taken back to a time in our past. It’s too intimate, with one large sleeping bag and blankets on top. I slide inside the bag, and he joins me until we’re chest to chest.
“You clearly didn’t think this through,” I whisper, hearing his breath in my ear.
My entire body hums. We’re inches apart in the darkness. Being next to him is the only time I’m not afraid.
“I missed you,” I say.
He reaches out and tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear. “Don’t you fucking break my heartagain.”
“I don’t want to.”
His hand slides to my hip.
I shift closer. “Lucas?”
“Mm?”
“I can feel how hard you are.”
“I know.” His hand tightens on my hip.
I rock my hips against him, and he makes a sound, low in his throat. His hand slides under my sweater, fingers on bare skin.
“I won’t,” he says, but his body is saying otherwise. “Fuck, you’re tempting.”
I press fully against him, and I can feel every inch of him. His thumb strokes my hip under my sweater.
We lie there, pressed together, breaths ragged.
“I won’t touch you,” he whispers against my ear. “But you can touch yourself.”
My breath catches. Heat floods through me.
“Close your eyes.”
I do.
“Do you remember the first time I showed you how?” His voice drops lower.
