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Authors: Makenzie Smith

Starting Fires (29 page)

BOOK: Starting Fires
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Eager for him, I pushed my ass into his pelvis. The movement stilled his lips and he let out a groan of arousal. “Please,” I whispered.

Instantly, my leggings were down and he slid into me. The sensation made my back arch and my arms tense. I whimpered as his stomach met my ass, pushing himself fully inside. We savored the feeling for only a moment before he went back to his knees. His hands came to my hips and he jerked them up as he started thrusting.

Lucas began fucking me with a purpose, and I couldn’t get enough. Each connection reminded me that my body was his. Only he touched me this way. Only he saw this side of me. In his hands, I was powerless. Always.

Wanting to watch him, I turned my head towards the bathroom door, thankful that it wasn’t fully closed. The angle let me see him perfectly. He was shirtless, but his jeans were at his knees. My black leggings were pushed down my thighs. I watched his hands squeeze and my body jerk with his force. He watched himself fuck me, gripping my waist, his face hard and focused.

The sight was so erotic I couldn’t stop from moaning my appreciation. In the mirror, I saw his eyes rise to my face. Noticing where I was watching him, he turned towards it and looked at me. I slowly nodded, telling him how much I loved it. Lucas closed his eyes and worked his head around on his neck, “Goddamn it,” he said then started thrusting harder. “
Goddamn it
,” he repeated more forcefully.

I buried my head in the pillow so I could be as loud as I wanted. His movements were hard and deep, teetering somewhere on the edge of pleasure and pain, but I wanted more. My arms lengthened out in front of me and I gripped the edge of the mattress.

When he hit the spot, God, he hit it good, and my body stretched and bent, pushing back on him. I was taking strangled breaths, gripping my mattress for dear life when his torso met my back. His mouth was at my ear, and I relished every rushed, guttural sound he produced.

One of his hands gripped my arm. His other stayed on my ass as he moved in and out at the perfect angle. Something stirred and I knew it wouldn’t be long. The depth and pace was exquisite and I felt my eyes starting to roll back.

Delicately, his lips touched my shoulder. The tenderness was so out of place in our mad, chaotic sex that I gave in to the feeling deep inside me. Only one part of him was close enough to kiss, so I brought my mouth to his hand that rested on my forearm, kissing it with abandon as my orgasm rose. At the peak, I couldn’t continue, and buried my face into the mattress. His hand moved to my hair and he rubbed my scalp as he stifled his own moans against the skin of my shoulder. We came together, hard and long, pushing into one another, trying to get as close as we possibly could.

When he finished, Lucas let out a groan, and rolled over to his back. I stayed where I was, watching him as I caught my breath. His eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell in exertion. He had been gone for eleven days, and now he was home. I didn’t want him to leave me.

“Stay,” I said softly. His eyes opened and he looked at me, trying to decide what I meant. “Stay here, with me tonight,” I clarified, and rose to crawl to him. Once I was at his side, his hands came to my hips and he pulled my pants back up, but left them there to rub along my behind.

“I need to unpack,” he said.

My legs straddled his waist. “Do it tomorrow. I’ve missed you, and don’t want you to leave.” The confession made me feel exposed, but I buried my feelings of apprehension.

He was still contemplating it when his eyes landed on the long chain around my neck. It fell between my breasts, the sparrow resting at the top of my ribs. His expression softened as he reached up and grasped it between his fingers. “Do you always wear this?” he asked.

“I never take it off,” I told him honestly.

He gave me a small smile, and rose to sit up, wrapping his arms around me. “I’ll stay,” he said.

I smiled and brought my mouth to his.

 

Chapter 26

T
he clock on
my nightstand said 9:26 a.m. when I felt his lips softly kissing my shoulder. His gentle hand followed, rubbing up and down my thigh. I made a pleased
mmm
sound and snuggled into my pillow. “Good morning,” he said, sounding rough from sleep.

“Good morning,” I smiled and closed my eyes, unwilling to part with any second of this. “We should have been this doing all along. I like waking up this way.”

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, palming my thigh and bringing his mouth to my neck. When his hand moved between my legs, we stopped talking.

 

After I grabbed a shower and dressed for the day, I went straight over to his house. He was also freshly showered and unloading his suitcase. Since I didn’t know where he kept anything, I propped up on his bed while he separated clothes. The painting I’d bought him in New Orleans was hanging across from his bed in the center of the wall. I smiled at the memory and searched for the picture I’d given him on Valentine’s Day. At first, I was a little disappointed when I couldn’t find it, but then my eyes landed on his nightstand. Turned towards the bed, so it would face him as he slept, was the picture of the tree I’d taken. Overcome with happiness, I moved to sit behind him.

He was on the edge of the bed, leaning over his suitcase as he pulled items out. I wrapped my arms around his stomach and rested my head on his back. “You really did miss me, didn’t you?” he said, stopping to give my arms a squeeze.

“Terribly.”

Lucas chuckled and I smiled too, pushing my nose into his shoulder to give him a kiss. Abruptly, Lucas fell back on the bed, putting some, but not all, of his weight on me. I giggled and tried to move him. When I pushed for the third time, and wasn’t able to budge him, his body shook with laughter and he moved to lie next to me. His feet were dangling off the bed as I straddled him, letting my hair fall over my shoulders, veiling us in. “Your hair is so beautiful,” he said, reaching up to run his fingers through it. I grinned and turned into his hand, feeling him cup my face. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

I couldn’t blame him. Over the last few months, I’d been all over the place. Distant, rude, needy, clingy, sweet, affectionate. It was probably making his head spin. But I knew what I wanted now, and that nothing should be holding me back from him. I was ready. “About the other night-” I started.

“Don’t,” he stopped me. “I was out of line. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“For what? You didn’t do or say anything wrong.”

I reached down and rubbed the outline of his hair, just where it touched his forehead. “Yes, I did.”

He understood what I meant. For a fraction of a second, his breath changed, and his hands tensed. The look on his face wasn’t panicked or caught off guard. It was relieved and happy. But then a hint of sadness took its place. “But-” he started but was interrupted when Ian walked in.

“Oh. Sorry,” Ian said. “Didn’t know you were here, Marlowe.” A mumbled statement followed. I think he said something like, “Glad to see you two making up.”

“Need something Ian?” Lucas asked, sitting up and moving me to wrap around him.

“I was about to go by and see Dad. If you’re still going to the bar, I was gonna get a lift.”

“Yeah, I’m going. I’ll leave here in a bit.”

Ian left and Lucas turned to me. “Wanna come with me to the bar? I have to check up on some things.”

I nodded with enthusiasm. With a smile, he rose from the bed and carried me out of the house, still wrapped around him.

 

At the bar, I followed him around as he made sure everything was in order. He hardly accomplished anything, stopping to hold or kiss me every couple of minutes. I tried bringing up my comments from the other night again, but he brushed them off, not wanting to discuss it. Maybe he was still embarrassed. Or maybe he needed time to adjust to the change in me. Either way, I was okay with it. Wally had told me to give him time. And I would. It was obvious how much he meant to me, I wasn’t holding back from it any longer. The love was clear on my face. The affection was evident in all of my touches. The warmth was in everything I said to him.

I felt it from him, too. Every time he looked at me, it was as if he couldn’t be sure that I was entirely real. And he couldn’t keep his hands off me.

But still… there was something behind his eyes. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Fear. Guilt. Uncertainty. I wasn’t sure, but knew that I needed to let him work it out.

For the next few days, we spent every free moment together. Either I was at the bar, or we were at one of our houses. Every night, no matter where we were, one of us would crawl into the other’s bed, staying until morning.

Thursday evening we were in my room. I was on the floor going over homework and he was sitting on my bed. The television wasn’t even on. He sat there silently, not looking at me, but contemplating something. Occasionally, I would glance at him and see his focused eyes staring intently at my ceiling.

Hoping that he would open up to me in his own time, I finished studying for one class and moved on to the other. After an hour had passed and hardly a word had been spoken between us, I closed my books and crawled towards the bed. Sitting next to him on the floor, I reached out and grabbed his hand. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said back, rubbing the back of my knuckles. “I’m not the best company right now, am I?”

“It’s alright,” I smiled. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

He pulled me up into the bed. I would have straddled his lap, but he scooted over to make room for me to prop against the headboard. “What do you love, Marzy. In life I mean.” That was a deep question, and my answer wasn’t obvious. He must have noticed my frown because he elaborated with, “The bar. The band. All of it seems so superficial to me. I took over the bar because my dad gave it to me, not because I necessarily wanted to. It was there and I wasn’t doing much with my life. The band, well it’s fun. I like getting to hang out with my friends, but it’s all starting to feel so monotonous. Just the same thing week after week. I want something more.”

“If you didn’t have the bar what would you want to do?”

“I have no idea,” he sighed. “Before my dad gave it to me I was going to open my own music shop. Sell instruments, maybe give guitar lessons.”

“Would you still want to do that?” My head was turned towards him, watching his brow crease and relax as he contemplated it.

“I think so.”

“So do it.”

“Maybe. The bar makes good money. Especially now, and it sort of feels like a family legacy. My own music store would be different all together. I’d be taking a big risk.”

I thought about my dad. When I was younger, he’d told me that he hated his job, but did it to bring money in for the family. I was sure that he still hated it, but now there was no reason for him to continue. I was the only family he had, and his contributions to me weren’t necessary. I appreciated them, but if I didn’t get them, I’d figure it out. Was my dad stuck now? Accustomed to the finer things and unable to let them go to find his happiness? Did he feel like it was too late for him? I threaded my fingers together with Lucas.’

“My dad hates his job,” I said. “It’s killing him. The stress. The ridiculous hours. But he still does it. I think it’s because he’s done it for too long. It seems hopeless to turn back now. But it’s not too late for you.” I smiled and reached up to briefly touch his face. His head turned towards my palm and he gave it a kiss before I brought it back down. “As far as the family legacy, maybe you could sell it to a cousin or uncle or something. You don’t want it. It’s not your responsibility to keep it alive. Don’t sacrifice your own joy for something that means so little to you.”

We were silent while he pondered my words. A few minutes passed before he said. “I want to tell Wally and Charles that I don’t want to be in the band anymore. Ian already knows. He doesn’t want to do it either, but we’ve been waiting for the right time to tell them. They enjoy it so much, I feel like shit even thinking about taking it away from them.”

I felt bad for him. He was trying to please everyone around him and taking so little for himself. “They might surprise you,” I said. “Charles has been getting pretty serious with Priscilla and his new job is going well. Maybe he’d be okay with it. But I don’t know about Wally. We’ve never talked about it.”

He turned towards me. “So you think I should do it? Open my own store? Ditch the band?”

It was clear that he wanted guidance, someone to tell him what to do, because he was too scared to make the decision on his own. “I think you should find out what you love and do it. Whatever it is. If it’s the bar. A music store. The band. Find out and do it.”

He squeezed my hand, and stared at me, soaking in my face. He wanted to tell me something. It was there, just at the edge of his lips, but he was holding back. While he worked it out, I tried to send him a message with my eyes.
I’m not going anywhere
they said.
I’m here. With you. No matter what.

A knock on my door, broke our silent conversation. Wally asked Lucas to come to his room from the other side. “Why?” Lucas asked.

“I want to show you the video from my last dive. Some pretty cool shit,” Wally said. Lucas rose and walked towards the door. Since I’d already seen it, I stayed put.

Wally seemed happier lately. His tandem license was about to come through and soon he’d be able to actually make money as he took others to skydive. I was
not
going to be one of them. Just thinking about jumping out of a plane made my palms sweat. There was no way.

A low buzzing sound drew my attention and I searched for my phone. It was on the floor next to my books, the screen black. On my nightstand was Lucas.’

“Candycane Calling” flashed across the screen. I frowned realizing who
Candycane
was. Why was she calling him? And why was she in his phone with that name? It was familiar and sweet. A pet name. I tried to push it aside, thinking that maybe he’d just never changed it from before.

The call went to his voicemail and a few seconds later, it buzzed again. The screen lit up with a new text message from her. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was there, begging me to look.
What are you doing? It’s been five days. You said we would talk about us.

Five days? Saturday. The day he’d come home early to see me. Had he stopped off at her home in Alabama on his way back? Was he still keeping her on the side in case things didn’t work out with us? My throat felt tight, and my chest seized.

Lucas came back in with a smile. “It’s cool, man,” he said to Wally. “Maybe one day I’ll try it.”

“You should,” I heard Wally say.

Lucas didn’t notice the change in me. He walked over and placed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m gonna go, baby. Got some stuff to think about. I might go see my dad tomorrow and talk with him, too. I’ll let you know.”

As he grabbed his phone, I managed a nod, wondering the depth of the things he was going to be thinking about. Maybe he was struggling with what to do about Candace and me, too.

My door shut behind him and I remembered Charles’ words.
You are worthy. If Lucas doesn’t see it, then fuck him.
It shouldn’t be a choice. I was worth it. And if he couldn’t see that then I needed to prepare myself to tell him goodbye.

 

The next morning, Lucas texted me saying that he was going to his parent’s house Friday evening. I wished him luck, but had a hard time reconciling the feelings inside me. I was not okay with him continuing to spend time with Candace, whatever the reason. And if he was, I would end it. I refused to be someone’s second choice. Trust was a big issue for me, and if Lucas was around her, it meant that things weren’t 100% over. I was sick with confusion and heartache that night, but still managed to send him my thoughts—hoping that the talk with his father would have a positive outcome.

A number I didn’t recognize called me around 7 p.m. With apprehension, I answered. “Marlowe, honey, this is Helen. Lucas’ momma.”

BOOK: Starting Fires
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