Page 28 of The Reading

“I didn’t find him,” she corrected. “Like Madam Brousseau predicted, Reign has always been there. Need I remind you, just like Lucas has always been there?”

“Is that really your advice?” I asked, getting serious. “To just let him…do all that stuff to me?”

“Hell to the flippin’ yes,” she answered excitedly. “Let him hunt for Easter eggs all over your body.”

“Sloane!” I laughed.

“If nothing else, at least you’ll be getting laid,” she drawled out knowingly.

“Well, there is that,” I agreed.

Chapter 3

Kit~

After getting off the phone with Sloane, it was hard not to think about Madam Brousseau’s prediction. Lucas fell in the category of already knowing who my soulmate was, but did he really? We’d been neighbors for years, and I couldn’t think of a single time that he’d been anything other than friendly or polite. It’s been years, and I hadn’t even once caught him looking at my ass.

Granted, it’d be ideal if my soulmate were Lucas for so many reasons. Mainly, because we were already friends. I liked him, and unless he had random bodies buried throughout that ranch of his, he seemed like a good guy. He seemed like he would be a considerate husband and caring father. He also seemed like he’d be good in the sheets.

When I first met Lucas, the first thing that I’d had notice beyond his height had been the way that he walked. I’d been outside, checking my mail, when I had noticed him walking over towards the fence, and my mind had immediately imagined how those hips of his worked while naked. When I had bridged the gap and had met him at the fence, that’s when that dark blonde hair, green eyes, and gorgeous face had come into play. I had ended up fanning myself, blaming the heat.

The sound of my front door opening, then closing, had me frozen in the kitchen, my hand wrapped tightly around a bottle of water.

No freakin’ way.

Equal parts mortified and excited, there was no way that Lucas Bellinger was walking into my house to make all my filthy dreams come true. With my luck, it was Sloane being an asshole and getting my hopes up.

I could only stare straight ahead as Lucas’ large frame came walking through my living room, straight into my kitchen. My thighs clenched, and my teeth started gnawing at my bottom lip.

“So, I got those books shredded for you,” he said, and I felt like such a fucking idiot. Of course, he was just here to let me know that he’d shreddedthe books and probably to talk about Lawrence some more.

“Uh…thanks,” I mumbled, my face feeling the heat of embarrassment.

Lucas stopped when the kitchen table was the only thing separating us. “I think we should go ahead with opening the fence up for Lawrence.”

“You do?” I squeaked, then cleared my throat. “Uh…you do?”

Lucas nodded. “I think you might be right, and he’s only acting out because he can’t come over here whenever he wants.”

“Yeah…okay,” I said, not sure if I was disappointed that hereallywas here to talk about Lawrence or not. I mean, if he read any of the risqué pages, then I should be feeling embarrassed and nothing more.

Damn Sloane for getting in my head.

Lucas gave me a terse nod. “I’ll take care of it next weekend,” he kept saying, oblivious to the fact that I was a nervous wreck right now.

“Yeah, sure…I…I think Lawrence will be happy…” I trailed off, my grip threatening to pop my bottle of water right open.

He nodded again. “One other thing.”

“Yeah?” I asked, and I had to clear my throat again.

My eyes widened as Lucas walked around the table, making his way towards me, and I could only hope that he was here to make the kitchen sex scene come true. When I’d first seen him holding those pages, I’d felt mortified that Lucas might know the truth. When I had spoken to Sloane, I’d felt disappointed that I hadn’t been brave enough to go after what I wanted.

However, now…well, now I felt excited and hopeful.

Neither of us said a word when Lucas stood before me, and I had to bite my lip when I felt his hands reached down, grab the back of my thighs, then lift me against his body. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist in a grip that might do some damage.

“Before I lay you on the table and taste every sweet secret that you have, please tell me that you wrote that book with me and this in mind, Kit,” he said, his voice low and doing crazy things to me. “Tell me that you want this, and that you want me to be the man that gives it to you.”

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