Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(82)
I needed to forget it all, just for a second.
He scraped his teeth against my already sensitive clit, his tongue rolling around me in wide, sweeping circles. My breathing came faster, and I fisted my hands in his hair, pushing him even closer to me. It still wasn’t close enough, and it never would be. “Lucas, oh my God.”
He deepened his strokes, thrusting a finger inside me at the same time. Stars burst in front of me, and I came explosively against his mouth. Growling, he spun me so my ass was in the air and gripped my hips from behind me. After a few moments, he pressed his erection against me, right where his lips had been earlier, and I came again, even harder than before. Grunting, he gripped my hair and pulled my head back tenderly.
His mouth pressed to my ear, and he nibbled on it. “I love f*cking you with my mouth, darlin’. Love the way you taste when you come, and those breathy little cries you make. I love—” He cut off, his grip tightening in my hair. “I could live the rest of my life with my head between those creamy thighs of yours and die a happy man, but right now? I need to f*ck you.”
I nodded. “Yes. God yes.”
He plunged inside of me with one long, hard hit. My nails scraped over the countertop, searching for purchase, but I came up empty. He gripped my hips and moved inside of me, each stroke harder than the last. I arched my back and pushed against him, straining to get even closer to him.
“Heidi.” His hips moved faster, and he moaned. “You’re gonna kill me.”
I cried out, the pressure building inside me until it boiled over. And the second it did, he was there with me, his body tensing as he came, too. Breathing heavily, he collapsed against me, but he didn’t crush me between him and the counter. “Lucas . . .”
“I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “Believe me. I know.”
We stayed like that for a short time, him holding me close, till he swept me up without a word and carried me into the bedroom. His pants were stuck on one ankle, so it was almost comical. Almost. Instead, it felt bittersweet. Gently, he laid me on the left side of the bed and pulled the covers over me.
Yanking his shirt over his head, he threw it on the floor. He stood there, gloriously naked, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. I would never get sick of looking at him. Admiring those tattoos, and muscles, and—
Oh my God, were those freckles on his shoulder?
“What?” He glanced down at his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Are those”—I got up on my knees and crawled over to him. He watched me, his chest rising and falling as I got closer—“freckles?”
He covered his shoulder immediately, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Yeah. Why?”
“I want to see them.” I tugged his hand down, and he let me. Reaching out, I traced the pattern of his freckles. They were in the shape of . . . of . . . “Is that a star?”
His cheeks turned even redder. “Yeah. Ma always said it was a sign I was destined to be a star. She was obviously wrong.”
I drew the star on his shoulder. I hadn’t known the significance before, but he had a matching star tattoo on his other shoulder, right above his piercing. A memorial to his mother. The love I had for him, pure and strong, punched me in the chest. It choked me, catching in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “Your mother was a very wise person.”
“No. She was wrong. I’m not a star; I’m a criminal.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “She’s dead, and Scotty wants me dead, and if I’m not careful, you’ll be dead, too.”
My heart twisted. “Lucas—”
“Don’t.” He ruffled his hair and let out a long sigh. “Just don’t.”
I wanted to argue, to beg him not to shut me out again, but what was the point? As real as all this might feel to me, it wasn’t real to him. He didn’t want to open up to me, and any connection I felt was one-sided. He reminded me of the fact that this was temporary enough times to get that point across. “Are you going to run off to work on cars again?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I should. I think best when I’m alone, when my hands are busy and no one talks to me.”
“Is that why you only work on them in the middle of the night, when no one else is there?”
“No. I only work on them in the middle of the night when no one else is there because I’m not actually a mechanic.” He stepped out of his boxers and stretched. Every lean muscle of his taunted me. “But if I was, I’d still want to work alone. I do everything best when I’m alone.” He shot me a smirk. “Well, minus one thing, anyway.”
I rolled my eyes and snorted. “Wow. Smooth.” I faced the wall and curled up on my side. I didn’t want to watch him leave me again, even though I’d never expect anything else from him. “Have fun with your cars.”
He sighed. “Good night, sweetheart.”
“Night,” I murmured.
Closing my eyes, I waited for him to walk away. To do what he did best, to retreat behind a wall of loneliness and ice. So when he cursed, and the bed dipped under his weight . . . I almost missed it. He lay down beside me, pulling the blanket over himself, too. He rubbed his cheek against mine. “You can relax, sweetheart. I don’t bite . . . hard.”
I held my breath, sure if I breathed, he’d remember I was here and leave. But he didn’t. He pulled me into his arms and curled his body around mine. I still didn’t move. Instead, I lay there, blinking at the wall. I’d never been so shocked to have someone touch me before. I forced my muscles to chill the hell out. “. . . What are you doing?”