The Destiny of Violet & Luke (The Coincidence, #3)(80)

“No way.”

“Oh my God,” he growls, shaking with irritation as he clenches his hands. “I can’t win with you. I try and try and try to get something from you—anything—and you won’t give it to me.”

“I’m so sorry that I don’t let you win with me like all the other girls you sleep with,” my inebriated mouth says. “There’s the door.” I point my finger at it. “You can leave whenever you want.”

He shakes his head and lets out a piercing laugh. “This was supposed to be our room, but you took it over.”

“I didn’t take it over, you just won’t come in here.”

He pauses and when he speaks again, he’s calmer. “Is that what you’re really waiting for? For me to just come in here? Because it seemed like you wanted your space.”

“Yes, it’s what I was waiting for,” I stammer. Actually stammer. I never stammer. Through our little code talk I’ve somehow managed to lose my confident voice and admit to him that I’ve been waiting around for him to come to me.

He pauses, looking startled, horrified, the sedated, his eyes darkening as his eyelashes lower. “Say it again.”

“Say what?”

He slides his foot across the floor, stepping closer, and his knee bumps against mine. “That you were waiting for me to come in here.”

I shake my head, pushing my knee up against his. “I wasn’t.”

His gaze flicks to our knees touching. “You just said you were.”

“Well, I’m a liar.”

“I know, but you weren’t lying.”

I don’t say anything at all. I think about walking by him, leaving the house, heading down the road, hitchhiking to the tallest building in the city. Get to the roof and soar. Instead I stay put, because the haziness in my head is making it okay to stay here with him. I wait eagerly for him to do whatever it is he’s going to do. Yell at me. Leave me. Kiss me.

His arm comes out to the side and curls around toward my hip. I start to open my mouth as his fingers brush my skin and enfold around my waist, but suddenly I lose it and lean in, kissing him. The second our lips touch, I feel safe from all the bad in my life. I blame it on the tequila. But I’m pretty sure it’s not the tequila that makes me do what I do next, only the passion I feel in the moment. As I part my lips hoping he’ll slip his tongue into my mouth, I eliminate the space between our bodies, crushing myself up against him, then I raise my leg to hitch it over his hip. There’s a pause of reluctance on Luke’s part and then he lets out a husky groan and everything abruptly starts moving in fast motion. His hot palm slides down my hip to my thigh, fingers stabbing through the fabric of my skirt as he grips my leg and scoops me up. I hook my legs around his, locking my ankles as his tongue slides deep into my mouth. He presses up against me, moaning again as he steers us around toward the bed. Seconds later we fall. Together. We land on the mattress and it becomes concave, conforming to the weight of our bodies. We get tangled in the sheets and blanket, our legs entwined, hands all over each other, bodies writhing in harmony. I keep making these little whimpering noises, but it can’t be right. I don’t whimper.

Luke pulls his mouth away as I whimper for the fifth or eleventh time. He scans my face as I pant loudly, my hands cupping his shoulder blades, the warmth of his skin flowing through the fabric of his shirt.

“Why’d you stop?” I ask, breathless.

“I have no idea,” he mumbles then seals his lips to mine, gathering my arms in his hands and pinning them above me.

I gasp, the desire flooding through me more powerful than my need for an adrenaline rush. I’ve got plenty of it in me now. Pounding at the sensitive parts of my body, throbbing in my thighs. He devours me with his mouth as he traps my wrists together and presses me down against the bed. I kiss him back with more emotion behind it than I’ve ever let myself feel before, my fingers tracing up and down his back, through his hair as my back bows up and I writhe against him. His free hand wanders down my body, then up my skirt, heading for the top of my thigh. It’s not the furthest I’ve gone before, but the furthest I’ve gone with someone I have feelings for and the emotion behind it is becoming too much.

I start to say stop, but then his finger slips inside the edge of my panties and the words are stolen out of my lips by the startling, yet amazing tingles coursing through every part of my body. I feel like I’m going to burst and the sensation only increases when he slips a finger inside me and then another. I cry out in bliss as he starts moving them, my hips bucking against his hand, my body seeking more. He kisses me passionately before his mouth delves downward, his hand leaving my arms, freeing me from his hold.

I keep my arms above my head though, my eyes shut as I gasp for air. His other hand shoves my top up. He yanks my bra down and my nipples spring free, seconds later his mouth covers my breast. I’m gone. Drowning in a sea of desire and alcohol, falling helplessly as I lose control and my body ignites. I cry out again as I dig my nails into my palms, seeking a release from the adrenaline rush I’ve been craving all night. I feel myself come apart, falling into helplessness, losing control over everything as everything inside me breaks apart and my mind drifts away. When I return back to reality, I’m exhausted, drained, but content. Luke’s no longer sucking on my nipple, but lying beside me with his elbow propped against the mattress and his head resting against his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just stares down at me, his eyes glossy, his face crammed with uncertainty, like he’s unsure—or maybe even regrets—what just happened.