Incumbent(25)

I was leaning against the sofa cushions with my head rested on his bicep, when even in the relaxed position was prominent and hard. As if my hand had a mind of its own, it traveled from his chest down his tight stomach, feeling each ripple of his abs one by one, and stopped just above the waistband of his jeans.

My gaze was fixed on my fingers as they continued to move across the waistband of his pants and then north, but this time I grazed his strong arm until I rested my hand on his shoulder. When I looked back at his dark hair swept over his forehead, his eyelids flickered and his lips twitched.

Shit. He’s awake. I quickly jerked my hand back and rested it at my side, never losing sight of his face.

One eye opened and then the other. “Don’t stop on my account.” His dimple appeared, and my entire body heated from the inside out.

Swallowing hard with embarrassment, I choked out, “I’m sorry.”

He shifted and pulled me closer until my breasts pressed against the same hard chest my hand had just explored. His morning excitement pushed against my hip, and I did everything in my power not to grind against it.

“That was the best alarm clock I’ve ever had.” Our eyes met, and he lifted a hand to stroke my hair before resting on my neck. “Do you know how badly I want you right now?” His deep sensual voice rendered me speechless. “Do you, Lucy?”

“I have a bit of an idea.” I moved slightly, pushing my hip against his erection, and a deep growl came from him.

“If you keep doing that, my grand plan of dating and slowly seducing you are going to fly out the window.”

“So, you have a grand plan of seducing me?”

“You forgot the dating part,” he said wryly.

I snickered. “Yes, that too.”

“I did have a plan,” he said softly, “but as in politics, sometimes you need to go with the flow and adjust your agenda.” His lips found the pulse on my neck as he nibbled, licked, and gently sucked. “Your skin tastes sweet.” As I leaned my head back to give him more access, he added, “Someday, I’m going to taste all of you.”

Every pore in my body ignited, which made it difficult for me to speak, but I finally managed to breathe out one word. “Drake.” It sounded like a prayer to my own ears, and I hoped it didn’t sound desperate, but I wanted him to touch me.

Cool air hit my lower back as he lifted the hem of my shirt. I didn’t stop him; I couldn’t. His eyes begged for permission, and the slowness of his stroke on my skin confirmed he was waiting for the green light.

All I could do was kiss him. That was my answer. A simple kiss.

He raised my top over my head, exposing my red lace bra. “You’re beautiful, Lucy.”

His fingertips slowly grazed the swell of my breasts, as if in adoration. Goose bumps sprang to the surface of my oversensitive skin as he continued to explore, from my pebbled nipples to the center of my abdomen and back up again.

The way he perused me not only with his touch, but with his eyes—normally a pale blue-green, but now the deeper color of the Caribbean sea—made me want to throw all caution to the wind.

I was his if he wanted me to be.





Chapter 8


Drake



How was I going to take this slow? The need to taste her, touch her, and be inside her consumed me. Could it be I’d finally found the woman for me? Was Lucy the one? Would she want me to be hers?

Her skin felt like silk under the pads of my fingers. The urge to explore her entire body raged through me, but I wanted her to understand that wasn’t all I wanted from her.

No. With her, I wanted more. I needed to know what made her happy or sad, what her favorite food was, and her favorite color. Did she prefer movies or television? What sports did she like to watch, or didn’t she? What were her best childhood memories, what were her parents like, and when did she lose them?

These were the kind of things I wanted to know. Granted, Ben could find all of this out and more—and I was sure he was itching to do it—but that wasn’t an option.

“Drake,” she said, drawing me out of my thoughts, “I need to get up and ready for work.”

My head dropped between her neck and her shoulder. “If I wasn’t concerned about the education of our youth, I’d ask you to play hooky.” Reluctantly, I moved to let her sit up.

She grabbed her shirt and pulled it on. “I need to get the paper.”

“Did I ever tell you how great it is that you still read the newspaper? Most of the people I know love having the online version, but I prefer holding it in my hands. There’s something about the way the ink smells that speaks to me.”

She opened her front door and grabbed the paper off the stoop. “I love that too.”

“See? We’re meant to be together.”

She’d pulled back to playfully swat me with the rolled paper, but suddenly her eyes widened and her jaw went slack.

“What is it, Lucy?”

She glanced up at me and shifted her gaze back to the paper. “I’m . . . we’re . . .”

I walked over to see what had made her lose the ability to form a complete sentence. Glancing over her shoulder, I saw our picture in the newspaper, just below the fold. Lucy looked adorable in her Nationals jersey, and the awe in her eyes as she looked up at me made my heart swell, as well as another part of my body.