“Alone? On a Sunday afternoon?”
“I felt like having a few.” This was the dumbest story ever, and my mother would hear about it, but I’d rather be nagged for being a drunk than have Reggie catch wind of Will. “I took an Uber to a bar and had some glasses of wine, and then I took another Uber home. The driver knew I was a bit tipsy, so he made sure I got in all right.”
“You don’t look tipsy.”
“Because I’m having coffee,” I said, inspired. I gestured to the coffee in the coffee maker, the mug sitting beside it. Thank God I’d been interrupted before I could pour two cups.
“Luna.” This was my aunt’s chiding voice, which was exactly like my mother’s chiding voice. “This is very unlike you. I have to say I’m disappointed. I’ve never known you to be a drinker.”
“I’ve been under a lot of stress.”
“It’s that job, isn’t it? Working all kinds of hours. You didn’t get home until seven o’clock on Friday.”
I sighed. “Reggie, I’m fine, really.”
“You’re obviously not fine, since you’ve started day drinking alone. Tell that boss of yours to stop working you so hard. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No, thank you. I’ll handle it.”
I waited her out, which was the only way. Her technique—identical to my mother’s—was to stare at me silently, hoping I’d fill the silence with information. My brothers always fell for it, but I was very, very wise to this technique. I stared back at her, unwilling to crack.
“That’s all you have to say?” she asked finally.
“Yes, that’s all.” We stared each other down.
“Fine.” Reggie turned and headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, honey.”
This wasn’t finished, I knew. She was going to call my mother about—what? Probably my incipient drinking problem. I’d deal with that later.
When the door closed behind her, I locked it and hurried into the bedroom. I opened the closet. “You still have to whisper,” I said into the darkness. “She’s right downstairs and she’s suspicious. There’s no back door.”
“I suppose I’ll wait in this closet, then,” he whispered back. He pulled me into the darkness, and suddenly I was right up against Will’s body, his arm around my waist. “For as long as it takes.”
My knees went weak, and I gripped his shoulders. I was starting to swoon when he leaned down and kissed me.
SIXTEEN
Will
Kissing her, in the end, was as natural as breathing. It had to be done.
She was perfect. We fit together like two puzzle pieces, her arms around my neck, her lips tilted up to mine. When I ran a hand along her bare upper arm as I gently teased her mouth open, I felt goosebumps on her skin.
It should have been clumsy, here in her closet in the dark. I could hear hangers falling to the floor. I wasn’t good at this kind of thing, practiced. I didn’t kiss women in closets. But somehow, it wasn’t clumsy at all.
Luna kissed me back greedily, and I tightened my grip on her, pressing her flush against me, her hips against mine. She gave a little gasp and licked into my mouth, and things got wild. I scraped my teeth on her bottom lip and turned her, pressing her back against the wall, making more hangers clang and fall.
I broke the kiss and leaned down to brush my lips under her ear and along the side of her neck. She made the most luscious, wonderful sound when I did that, and I could feel heat rising from her sensitive skin. I breathed in.
I wanted to fuck her—of course I did—but not in this moment. This moment, just as it was, was perfect. This woman, the feel of her, the taste of her, her want for me, her trusting surrender. I could feel her pulse. I could hear her sexy breaths. I could smell her arousal on her skin, sense it in the way she tilted her chin to give me access, squirmed her hips, and dug her fingers into my shoulders. It didn’t matter that we were both fully clothed, that all we’d done was kiss. Had there ever been a moment in my life more perfect, more erotic than this one? It was completely unsurpassed.
I pressed my lips to the heated skin just behind her jaw, nuzzling her hair. I touched the skin with the tip of my tongue, tasting her, and she shuddered.
“Your excuse to her,” I murmured close to Luna’s ear, “was that you’re drunk.”
She made a sound of embarrassment, but her grip on me didn’t loosen. “I wasn’t thinking. You don’t understand. She knows everything.”
“Not everything,” I chided gently. “I took my shoes off at the door. If she’d turned to look, she would have seen them.”