The back wall is all glass and the view is of the Puget Sound. The furniture is big, in blues and white and a touch of green. I could curl up in his love seat and stare outside all day.
I wander through the room, my sandals echoing on the dark hardwood floors, and gaze out the windows for a few moments. The sun is hanging low, just above the mountains, reflecting on the choppy blue water, and pretty white sailboats are coasting along gracefully. I turn around to see Luke still on the other side of the room watching me, his arms crossed in front of him. I wish I could read his mind.
“What?” I ask and mirror his stance, crossing my arms in front of me, pushing my cleavage up a bit, exposing it through the V-neck of my red t-shirt.
“You are so beautiful, Natalie.”
Oh.
I drop my arms and open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out, so I just shake my head and look to my right at his very lovely kitchen.
“You have a great kitchen.”
“Yes.” It’s a simple agreement, and Luke is on the move, slowly walking toward me. There’s no humor in his eyes now, it’s hunger. Hunger for me.
I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
“Do you like to cook?” My voice is higher than normal and the nervousness is back, but this nervousness is not fear.
I’m definitely not afraid of him. I’m a bit intimidated by him.
“Yes.” He says again, and as he approaches me he raises his long-fingered hand to run the backs of his fingers down my cheek. I swallow hard and hold his blue gaze.
“You don’t want to talk about your kitchen?” I whisper.
“No,” he whispers back.
“Oh.” I look down at his mouth, and back up into his blue eyes. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t want to talk, Natalie.” Since when has whispering been so sexy? My thighs tighten, and I’m suddenly wet and hot and panting.
Luke grasps my face between both of his hands, still gazing intently into my eyes, as if he’s trying to convey some kind of deep message, or perhaps he’s asking my permission? I slightly tilt my head back, and he oh so slowly lowers his lips to mine. He rests them there for what feels like minutes, chastely kissing me, loosely resting his soft lips on mine.
I reach my hands up and grab his forearms and he groans as he takes the kiss deeper, persuading my lips open and tickling my tongue with his.
Oh God, he smells so good, and his expert lips are a drug that I just can’t resist. He nibbles at the sides of my mouth, nibbles my lower lip then invades my mouth again. He pulls the hair tie out of my hair, spilling my long, chestnut hair around my shoulders and plunges his hands in it.
“You. Are. So. Beautiful.” He murmurs against my mouth, each word between his sweet kisses and I am completely intoxicated. I run my hands up over his shoulders and twist his hair in my fingers and hold on for dear life.
Oh, this man can kiss!
He slows the kiss down again, gently cupping my face in his hands, and leaves sweet kisses on my jaw, cheeks, my nose, then plants his lips on my forehead and takes a deep, deep breath. I run my hands back down his shoulders – holy shit, is he toned! – over his sexy arms and hold onto his forearms, and I am more than just a little dizzy.
And I don’t want him to stop.
As my blurry sight clears, Luke leans back, still cupping my face and smiles gently down at me. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”
Where is that music coming from? I realize my phone is ringing inside my purse, still slung across my body and I break our intimate contact to rummage through and find it. Maroon 5 is whaling on about being at a payphone, and Luke’s smile breaks into a big grin as I answer the call.
“Hi, Jules.” I mouth roommate at him at his raised eyebrow.
“Nat! You haven’t answered my texts. Are you okay?” She sounds annoyed and I roll my eyes.
“I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t see your texts. My phone has been in my bag, I must not have heard it.” I take another step back from Luke trying to clear my head and he rests his hands on those lean hips.
“Do you have dinner plans?”
“Dinner?”
Luke leans in and whispers in my free ear, “I’m making you dinner.” He winks at me – winks! – and then walks around me toward the kitchen leaving me to my call.
“Um, yeah, I have dinner plans.” I wince, knowing that I’m about to get the Jules Third Degree.
“Oh?” I know her expertly plucked brows are raised. I so do not want to have this conversation with Luke in ear-shot. I hear Adele start to sing and turn around to see Luke has paused by a sound system, fiddling with his iPod.
“Yeah, something just came up.
Why? What’s going on?” Luke is now in the kitchen, rummaging around in his fridge, and I have a great view of his jean-clad ass. Holy crap.
“I was going to invite you along to go to dinner with some of my coworkers, but if you have plans I’ll just see you tonight.” There is a pause. “Is it the mugger?”
I gasp. Leave it to Jules! “Maybe.”
“Awesome! Have fun, be safe, take pictures if you can. Toodles!” And she’s hung up and I can’t help but laugh at her. Oh, to have my friend’s carefree attitude.
“So, that was your roommate?” Luke asks as he pours us both a glass of white wine. I take a sip and am pleasantly surprised by its fruity sweetness.
“Yeah, she was checking up on me.” I sit at the lightly colored granite breakfast bar and page through my texts. I have three, all from Jules.