Page 177 of A Very Merry Enemy
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine, and his eyes are closed.
“Get out of your head,” he whispers, his lips curving into a small smile. “I can tell you’re thinking.”
I let out a surprised laugh against his mouth. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm.” His hands slide down to my hips again, pulling me closer as we sway. “Also, I’m positive you looking this damn pretty should be criminal.”
“Lucas Jolly, are you saying I’m torturing you?”
“Absolutely. You always have.” His eyes are full of that familiar mischief I’m used to.
Laughter bursts out of me. “Hush.”
“Make me,” he says, and something about the way he says it makes my heart do a little flip.
This.This is what I’ve been missing for fifteen years. No oneelse can make me laugh, even when emotions are running high. Only his touch sends electricity through my entire body.
“Well,” I say, trailing my fingers down his neck, “maybe I will.”
I press up on my toes and kiss him again, slower this time. His hands tighten on my hips, and he makes that sound in the back of his throat that drives me wild.
“You’re killing me.” He breathes against my lips when we break apart.
“It’s mutual.”
He spins me, pulling my back against his chest as we continue dancing. His arms wrap around my waist, and his lips find that spot just below my ear that makes me shiver.
“Do you have any idea what I want to do to you right now?” he asks, but there’s amusement in his voice because he knows I do.
He turns me back around to face him.
“Yes,” I say, meeting his eyes.
His brow pops up. “Ferris wheel?”
I nod and bite my lower lip.
We sway like this for a moment, and I tilt my head back to look up at the stars.
This is home. Not a place or a building or a city. This feeling right here.
“What are you thinking?” Lucas asks.
“That I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
When he speaks again, his voice has a vulnerable edge to it. “Yes, you are.”
The song ends, but we stay planted.
“Dance with me a little longer,” I say, rubbing my hand across his scruff. “We can talk on the Ferris wheel.”
This time when we sway, it’s more intimate. His hand slides up my back and tangles in my hair. I press my face into his neck and breathe him in.
When the song ends, he takes my hand, and we weavethrough the festival. His thumb traces circles on my palm and every touch sends little sparks up my arm. When he glances back at me with that smile—the one that’s just for me—I can’t help but blush.
Lucas Jolly is looking at me like I’m his everything. The way he’s always looked at me.
We reach the Ferris wheel and wait in the short line. Lucas pulls me against his side, and I rest my head on his shoulder, fitting against him perfectly like I always have.
