Chapter Twenty-Four
Cassidy
When I come to, it takes me a full ten seconds to remember my own name and deduce that we’re car camping.
The clock on the dash reads 3:12 a.m.
Rolling onto my side, I come crashing back into my body at the sight of Luke, gently snoring, curled up in the driver’s seat under the same giant fuzzy blanket also draped over me. I slide my seat all the way back and recline fully so it matches his.
Seconds slip away as I steal a longer look his way. Comfort melts on my skin like warm wax. He’s close enough to stroke his face, but I don’t dare wake him.
But the comfort is short lived when I remember, oh, everything.
What in the ever-loving heck happened at dinner? When we’d just settled the terms of this nebulous thing between us, when I was certain we were going to forge ahead without any more complications, he spoke the exact words to soothe my achy soul.
Our mouths tripped and fell and landed on each other.
A thank-you kiss. That’s what I told him. That’s what it was.
Through the window, more stars than I’ve ever seen dot the sky, thousands of tiny bursts of light glowing together, rendering the great expanse an inky lilac. He must’ve stopped in anticipation of this and bought the blanket while I was sleeping. My heart stumbles over itself imagining him at the store, picking this out with the intention to share.
I grasp for the phone in the tray under the radio. According to the weather app, we’re in Moab, Utah. Home of the arches. Luke must’ve driven until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any more.
He stirs.
Our eyes lock and he offers me a sleep-drunk, “Hi,” as he stretches his arms overhead. A tiny inferno blazes through my body.
My response is barely more than a whisper. “Hi.”
He procures his glasses from somewhere beneath the blanket and slides them into place. “Did you sleep well?”
“I slept hard.”
His gravelly voice is pure seduction. “That means you needed it.”
My gaze flicks between his eyes and wanders down to where the blanket is tucked under his arm.
“This is Moab.” He lightly drags his big hand across the soft convertible top. “One of the camping spots.”
I curl the soft blanket in my fist. “How long have you been asleep?”
“Not long. I figured I’d sleep a few hours, we’d wake up for sunrise, see the arches while we’re here, and then keep going.”
“This is nice.” I pull my bottom lip in my mouth and glance at the convertible top. “We should drop this down for a minute to see the sky.”
“It’s cold. Are you okay with that?”
“We’ve got the blanket.” Electricity dances down my arm as I drift it toward the roof. “It’d be a shame to waste this chance. To get the full effect of the night sky, I mean.”
He replaces the key in the engine and starts the car just long enough to lower the top.
It’s like popping the top off a jar of lightning bugs and watching them scatter into the night. With nothing obscuring the sky, it’s pure magic, streaked with color. We lie on our backs for at least two quiet minutes, soaking it in. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, more mysterious than a sunset or sunrise and more alive than any twinkling cityscape.
Except.
My gaze keeps wandering to the man on my left, and every time it does, Luke’s eyes are on me.
Heart in my throat, I snap my attention back to the sky for the fourth time.
It’s cold. The bone-chilling kind you only find at night.
I pull the blanket higher, over both of us. “Better?”
He rolls on his side to face me. Reflexively, I do the same. It feels like being suspended in water, our every move fluid and slow, never really stopping. He unabashedly stares at my mouth as he drifts closer. My heart pounds so hard I can’t hear myself think.
His lips land on my cheek, a single brush of a kiss. “Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re—”
He runs his tongue over my lip.
Sucks it gently, like he’s sampling.
My thoughts stall.
His mouth slides over mine. Coaxing me open. My hand moves to his face, fingertips seeking skin and heat. This kiss doesn’t feel like a means to an end, but a destination unto itself. His mouth flirts with mine in gentle presses.
Lips still parted, he pulls back to meet my eye. The molten look on his face reduces me to ash. I don’t know how to function with his concentration so squarely on me.
“—welcome,” I whisper. “I was going to say you’re welcome.”
The seat leather crinkles as he shifts toward me, driving me backward.
Nothing about this kiss is gentle. He tilts his head to change the angle, and I let him in deeper. It’s tongues, friction, a groan deep in the base of his throat that echoes between my legs. He tugs my bottom lip with his teeth.
“Luke?” I close my eyes. “Are these just thank-you kisses?”
He pinches my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, studying my face like he’s savoring the view. Like he wants to see me. Taste me.
“No.” His hand plunges into my hair, twining it in his grip as his lips skate across my jaw, dragging pure, wet heat in a messy path. He moves his hot mouth over my ear. “Though I’m exceedingly grateful tonight.”
“Oh.” It was supposed to be a word, but it escapes as a cry as he applies suction to my neck. Raw need tears through me, building beneath my skin. “What about earlier? What about everything you said before dinner?”
“I meant what I said about not doing things I can’t see through. And I thought telling you would be the end of it.” Rough fingers grip my hip as he sucks and licks a path to the hollow of my throat. My head tips back as his biting and sucking grow stronger, his hand squeezing my side tighter, burning my skin as if my pants aren’t there at all. “But you make me want to try. You make me think things can be different.”
The same swirling sensation that came when he asked me to take this ride returns with a vengeance. That in an airport full of people to choose from—in a world full of reasons why not to—he’s inviting me along.
I want it. Whatever trying looks like, I want it.
“Cass, can I—we, can I—” He presses the nonsensical string of words into my skin as his hand slides to my back, moves lower.
I let out a noise that sounds like please.
He brushes his lips over the shell of my ear. His grip tightens over the exact spot where ass meets leg. “Is that a yes?”
“Please, yes, I’ll say it in every language, just don’t stop.”
“One is all I need.”
“Ja, sí oui.”
He tries to hitch my leg over his waist, and I knock the gear shifter with my knee. We fumble to align ourselves but can’t with the center console in the way. My impatient hands roam his chest, greedily taking whatever contact I can get.
His trail of kisses leads him to the bunched-up hood of his sweatshirt at the base of my neck.
He balls the hem in his fist. “How cold are you?”
“Sweltering.” I grip him by the hair and lift his head until he meets my eye. “Take it off.”
In a flash, his arm snakes around my waist.
“Come here.” His voice rumbles through me as he pulls me toward his side of the car. It’s a messy, clumsy maneuver until we line up just right, my knees notched around his lap. His hands shake as he works the fabric up and over my head. “I thought seeing this on you was sexy, but it’s nothing compared to taking it off.”
A thrill shoots down my spine. “You like me in oversize cotton?”
He throws it aside, his palms immediately landing on my waist, sliding up over my ribs.
“I like you in my oversize cotton.”
His admission unravels me. It is a quarter slipped in my palm. I want to drop it in the machine to see what other trinkets I can claim, but before I can get a word out, he’s nudging the straps of my tank top down my shoulder, kissing a line across my collarbone.
His eyes fall closed, but I can’t stop looking at him. Goose bumps scatter down my arms, over my chest. The slide of his mouth is so tender I ache.
I ache in my body, burning with the need for contact everywhere.
Between my legs, where I only feel the mere possibility of him right now.
In untouchable places as he unwraps me like a gift, peeling the tank top off in one slow tug.
Anticipation makes my fingers slow and sloppy as I fumble with the clasp of my strapless bra. He closes his palm over my fingers. “May I?”
My arms drop away as he unhooks it with ease. It falls to my lap.
“Fuck, look at you.”
He’s still looking at my face. Like he’s really seeing me. I’m topless, but still he holds my gaze.
“Luke.” I tilt his chin down and drag a hand across my chest. “Touch me.”
His warm hands cup me, tracing the outline of my breasts with his thumbs until my skin is alive with goose bumps. His eyes darken and his mouth parts. With an impatient groan, his touch turns messy, needy as he fans over my nipples, stroking and twisting.
I grip him by the back of his neck, guiding him closer until his mouth closes, trapping delicious, wet heat over me.
He swirls his tongue around my nipple until I’m writhing in his lap. When I can’t take it anymore, he swipes the center with one broad stroke and nips me with his teeth, pulling a cry from my mouth.
He licks a line across my chest to the other hard peak, where he repeats the maddening torture until I’m reduced to a babbling mess, groaning, “Yes,” and, “That feels good,” as I grind against his lap.
I whimper as his mouth leaves my skin. His jeans, his bulge, everything hard rubs against the thin fabric of my yoga pants, sending a shockwave through me. Sweet, delicious contact.
“Lie back,” I murmur, pushing against his hard chest.
He obliges. As I drape myself over him to meet his mouth, my pulse thunders everywhere we’re pressed together. I’ve never been surer that the heart beats in every inch of the human body. His fingers roam my back, the nape of my neck, my chest, tantalizing every place he doesn’t linger.
The hard press of him between my legs grows insistent the longer we move together. His tongue delves deep in my mouth, and I give mine right back, wishing I had enough space to drag my mouth down his tight body and lick the dip between his abs.
His hand coasts over my ass. I trap his wrist and put it back. “I’ve seen the way you grip a steering wheel, handsome. Don’t go easy on me.”
He groans into my mouth and digs his fingers into the swell until it stings.
“Yes.” I grind against him. “Just like that.”
“Fuck, I love it when you talk.” His other hand finds my hip, and he drags me back and forth across his lap. We play a dangerous game, moving together as we would if we were naked.
Impossibly, something white and hot hovers in the distance, like if I wanted to, I could come like this. Just from the friction of his jeans and the sound of raw need in his splintered groans.
He slides his hands inside the waistband of my pants. I suck in a breath as his rough palms scratch against my skin. He takes two greedy fistfuls of ass. I’m certain he’s about to let go when he kneads harder, plays with it like it’s his. Oh, do I like unrestrained Luke.
I like every version of this man. And tonight, under the stars, I want to show him just how much.