Luke’s quick hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me in. My front pressed against his.
I was too drunk to reason with myself why we shouldn’t be this close.
Drunk me was celebrating that fact. We all needed a break from worrywart Liv. And drunk Liv was wasting no time as I began purring like a cat in heat.
“Hi,” I replied all breathy and sounding like a lunatic.
A very turned on lunatic. Another reason how liquor works against a person. Relatively, I’m good at keeping the signs of desire in check, but tonight I may as well be giving away the farm.
I forgot about the song I had been enjoying when I went stock still at the surprise of him being here. But Luke didn’t. He kept moving, swaying with my hips, our groins joining in the most delicious way.
Well, maybe not the most delicious way. There’s another way that holds the number one spot always and forever. If you’re needing a hint: It involves no clothes.
“Were you trying to brush me off?” he smiles down at me.
“I thought you were Grabby Hands.”
He tilts his head to one side, confused, and then understanding dawns at my half explained response. Luke’s grin wipes clean off.
“Has someone been causing you trouble tonight?” His voice leaves no hint at what he would likely do if I answered with a yes.
“It’s a general term. Someone who comes up behind another and gets handsy during a dance, but they take the hint when you step away. Usually.” I shrugged.
“Does that mean you haven’t been dancing with any of these preppy boys here?” The grin was back, playful and reading in to what I left unsaid faster than I thought he would.
“Nope.” To add emphasis to my lack of dance partners, I wrapped my arms around his neck to bring us closer. “What are you doing here? Crashing our party?”
“Paul whined all night about Della being out drinking without him. He knows how she gets.”
“Ahhh. That’s why she was being all secretive a little bit ago. She knew y’all were coming.”
He nodded. “And I remember how you two were back in the day when drinking together. Ending our night here was always the plan.”
“We’re fun drunks,” I pouted, taking offense.
“Very fun. And need way more protection than a shy Chloe to watch after you.”
“Chloe left.”
“Point made.”
“So you were worried.”
“How many grabby hands have there been?”
I bit my lip, not wanting to answer that.
“Point made.”
“So you were jealous?”
“I don’t get jealous, Liv.”
“Hm.” Men and their egos. He was totally jealous.
Luke danced with me for a couple more songs. If I thought I was turned on before, nothing compared to what I am now. My body hummed with desire. He danced close, and good. Real good. His hands were all over me. He was all over me.
I allowed the feelings in. Without the weight of ridiculous worry consuming every thought and movement I make on a constant basis, I had no cares in this moment.
No fucks were given.
Luke peered at me when a giggle slipped out of my mouth. I couldn’t even speak like the rest of the Millennials in my head without it sounding weird.
I’d like to think the dancing and sweating and seduction he’s been pouring on me would have exerted some of my inebriation, but it didn’t. I was truly drunk as a skunk. You can call me Ms. Grabby Hands.
I saw it in Luke’s eyes and body language, and he read it loud and clear in mine. This dance floor was our foreplay. Only problem was, he wasn’t anywhere near as drunk as I am.
Wearing no bra was a big issue at the moment. My nipples rubbed all over his chest with every move we made. The friction of my shirt sliding around hardened the sensitive nubs. I was enjoying the dance of seduction over the actual beat being played.
He ran one hand up the center of my bare back, and I let out a moan worthy of an award.
And I wasn’t the only one affected. The bulge in his jeans pressed hard on my belly. My fingers glazed over the cotton covering his top half, and down the rough material of his jeans. Before I could grip onto my destination, Luke made the move to pull us off the dance floor.
With my hand clasped in his, Luke led us to a table filled with what I assumed was Paul’s crew of friends. Yvette was leaving with a cute guy who fist-bumped Paul before taking off.
“Oh, I thought Yvette was single,” I voiced aloud as I watched them leave through the front door of the bar.
“She is. That was Derek, a buddy of Paul’s in town for the wedding.”
Oh dear. I wonder if Yvette realized her one night stand was going to be at the wedding tomorrow. Awkwaaaarrrrd.
There were two others guys sitting at the table with Paul and Della. Well, Della was sitting on Paul. She was beaming a bright and sneaky smile at me when Luke and I stopped in front of them.
I started to slide into an empty chair, the one nearest to me, and also happened to be beside one of Paul’s friends I didn’t know. He had intense green eyes that openly roamed from my chest to my ass. I was too tipsy to care, and sort of flattered that he was checking me out. That didn’t happen often when a five year was constantly attached to you.
But Luke did care.
His arm locked around my middle, maneuvering me between his legs. Then with a slight tug I was in his lap. I didn’t miss the blatant glare he shot Green Eye’s as I plopped onto his sturdy thigh. I also couldn’t ignore the firm hold he had on me as I sat there. It was cozy and possessive. Only Luke could pull off that kind of vibe. Because who the hell makes possessive feel this damn good?
Doesn’t get jealous my ass.
“Guess girls night is over,” I say, smiling at Della. With Yvette gone, our group had been chopped down to two.
“We’ll have more.”
“With an escort,” Paul muttered.
“We’ve been good. Haven’t we, Liv?”
“Picture of innocence,” I say theatrically. I could feel Luke’s chuckle rumble down my side.
“I got all kinds of free drinks because of this get up.” Della’s fingers wiggled around her head. “And not one was a body shot.”
“Were you expecting to have a body shot?” Paul asked cautiously.
“It is a bachelorette party…” She finished with ellipsis, like it didn’t need further explanation.
“There was an offer for one. I shooed him away.” I smiled proudly at Paul.
“Really?” Della pouted.
“I told him you weren’t that kind of bride.”
“Thank you, Liv,” Paul said to me but still glared at his pouty bride.
“Then he offered it to Chloe, and the poor girl ‘bout fell out of her seat.” Luke shook his head, still laughing. “So I thought I would take one for the team. I haven’t done one of those in years!” I got really excited retelling my story to Della. She had been wondering around the bar for free drinks. That was about the time she learned how magical her cheap veil was, and circled the place to see who would buy her a shot. I noticed Luke’s humor froze. “But then Kareena shooed him away permanently.”
“Argh!” Della shouted, feeling my pain.
“This is why we crashed your party,” Luke muttered in my ear. His voice husky and stern. It sent more chills down my back. To which he added more to when he lifted the hand wrapped around hip to my neck and trailed a light touch all the way down my spine. The open back shirt left me exposed to his bare touch. I forgot all about missing out on a body shot.
“Please tell me there were no other crazy bride-bachelorette antics you participated in tonight,” Paul asked with warning.
“Some guy gave me a quick peck on the lips for good luck in our marriage,” she said with promise. Apparently she thought he would be happy about this.
“Oh! Isn’t that what the Scottish do?” I clapped with excitement.
“It is!” She said loudly. “Just like that one movie where the girl was getting married in Scotland and they went to a bar for her party. Except this guy didn’t have an accent so I don’t know what tradition it was coming from.”
Paul cursed. Luke groaned. His two friends shook their heads and laughed.
“Her bachelorette party is way more for entertaining than yours,” Green Eye’s says to Paul.
“I don’t want to know anything else,” Paul declared. Then he stood, bringing Della with him. He looked at me and Luke. “We should get them home before they find something else to get in to.”
I was still watching the guy sitting next to me. Later on I would realize that drunken honesty could also be confused with flirting.
“You have amazing green eyes,” I say aloud. “I’ve never seen a real emerald, but The Wizard of Oz, the James Franco version, have you seen that one? Boring as hell, but the emerald castle…that’s what your eyes remind me of.”
“Yeah,” the guy smiles with pleasure, leaning in. He opens his mouth to say something, but never gets a chance.
“She’s drunk,” Luke cuts in. Standing with his hand firmly placed on my hip, he adds, “And not available, Jay.”
“Available?” I ask with confusion.
“Off limits,” Luke replies with finality.
Jay (Green Eyes) nods slowly with an eager grin, clearly hearing what Luke’s saying, but also not caring.
They said good night to their friends, holding tightly to our hands, and walk us out to Luke’s truck in the parking lot.
Della and I climbed in the back and chatted nonstop the whole way to her house.
“I’m glad your wedding isn’t in the morning,” I say, resting my head against the backseat headrest and looking at her. “I can’t imagine having to get up in a few hours to start getting ready.”
“That’s why there is good makeup in the world, darling. Even if we are still hungover, it’ll cover up the look of it.”
I giggled, reaching for Della’s hand and grasping it tightly.
“I wish we could do this more,” Della said quietly.
“Please, God, no,” Paul murmurs from the front.
“I mean hang out,” she clarifies, throwing him shade even though he can’t see from where he sits in front of her. She looks back at me, still holding my hand. “Like when we went shopping. And how we had mani-pedi’s done earlier. And lunch with our kids.” Della continued on, growing somber and wistful. “I need more people to hang with.”
“You have lots of people, Della,” I reply, agitation poking at me. She says she needs more people like she doesn’t already have a ton. I’m the one who needs more people. I’m the one who’s always alone.
“Well, yeah, I do, but I mean people I like.”
“Don’t you like the women who came to your party tonight?”
“Sure.” She shrugs. “They’re alright. But we don’t have everything in common.”
We don’t have everything in common either.
Turning to face the window, to watch the dark streets twinkle with lights from the city life we’re escaping from, I catch Luke’s gaze in his rear view mirror.
In a snap shot before I glance away, I see his understanding, his recognition of the selfishness in her words. A woman that has been blessed with so much, and yet yearns for more.
I’m not in the position to wrap my head around that one tonight. I’m guilty for yearning for things, as well. I may not have a full life, but I’m filled with the essence of life. A life that I wake up to everyday with my beautiful daughter.
The rest of the drive home was quiet. The alcohol was wearing down, leaving me sleepy, but I was still fairly tipsy.
It was very late, I didn’t know the exact time, but I would guess somewhere around one or two in the morning. I could look at my phone, or lift my head to look at the clock on Luke’s dash, but plain and simple—my mom body couldn’t hang any longer.
Luke pulled his truck to a stop in their circular drive. My head swayed with toxic impairment when I lifted it off the head rest. I needed a bed. Thanks to my dad for passing down one specific gene, I held my alcohol intake like the five year champ from a cake eating contest. Iron stomach. Nothing was coming up.
Hopping out of Luke’s truck on wobbly legs, he met me at the open door, placing a hand on the small of my back to steady my stance. My face appreciated it more than anything, because it liked being unscathed from gravel.
We round the tailgate and saw the newlyweds beat us to the door. I thought we’d all be saying good night since those two have a big day tomorrow and the guys still have to drive to Luke’s house, wherever that is.
I’m quite curious about that actually. There’s a lot of open land in Calusa, but either it’s land passed down to family members, or farms. No one sells their land in Calusa. Unless you are someone like Della and Paul with loads of money to bribe them and promise they aren’t buying it to build a strip mall.
Paul started kissing Della at the threshold of their front door. Then they didn’t stop. Before I knew it, her legs wrapped around his waist and he was carrying her inside.
“We’ll leave in a few minutes,” Paul murmured to Luke while his lips were locked onto Della’s.
“Fifteen,” Della corrected.
“Thirty,” Paul rectified.
Luke rocked back on his booted heels, hands tucked into his pockets like this deterrent was expected. Me, on the other hand, wanted a freaking bed. And if the horny bride and groom even make it to their room, I wasn’t going anywhere near the upstairs until they were done.
We gave them a head start then followed them inside. They were barreling up the stairs, all limbs and sucking faces.
“C’mon,” I said, grabbing ahold of Luke’s hand. “Let’s turn on the TV and pretend our friends aren’t having sex right above us.”
I tossed the remote to Luke, because I sure as shit wasn’t about to try to work Paul’s ridiculous entertainment system.
He sat while I performed the awkward dance of removing strappy heels while three sheets to wind. As I clearly became more entertaining than whatever he found on television, Luke watched me wiggle around and grunt as I unhooked my shoes.
“I could help with that,” he offers in a sultry tone.
I may be very sleepy-tired at the moment, but I am also very aware of Luke’s presence. The way his eyes roam over my recently shaved legs holds more kink to it than it sounds. Because I only shave until I absolutely have to.
“You cannot disrobe me.”
He can’t and that’s final, Olivia.
“They’re shoes. Not a robe.”
Good point, Olivia.
“They’re a part of my outfit,” I slur. “In which, your hands would be on me and removing them. That’s not safe.”
I finish my explanation with the thump of my last falling shoe, then sit with heavy exhaustion near him on the couch. One cushion length is kept between us.
No sooner than planting my butt comfortably down, Luke reaches over and pulls me right up next to him.
He stretches his arm out behind me on the back of the couch, then leans in to entice me even further.
“If my plan was to seduce you, I wouldn’t remove those shoes at all.”
Holy shits of paradise that sounds so good.
He knows what he’s doing. Luke knows that giving me that visual is an instant imagination land expo in my brain. Sadness is appalled, but Joy is, well, jumping for joy.
And every other emotion has taken the night off apparently, since I’m not thinking like my normal self.
Who said she was tired? Not this girl!
I ponder my next move all of—not at all.
My right side is pressed into his left, feet curled underneath me. He turned back to the TV after his little confession, while I had to learn how to breath all over again. Every part of me came alive. I was hot and cold; horny and brazen.
My eyes raked over his chiseled face and down to his mouth. So perfect. I have never seen such perfect lips on a man. The were full and rounded and very promising to all my needy bits.
“Kiss me, Luke,” I demand. Beg.
“Is that the alcohol talking?” he teases with a smirk.
“Definitely.”
“And when the alcohol fades away tomorrow, what then?”
“You kiss me again?”
He laughs.
The deep rumbles coming from his chest dissolve as he continues to watch me. His fingers lift to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. The vague caress pulls me in, and I turn my face into his hand. Luke’s dark gaze bears intrigue and heat and worry.
I question that last one with a worried look of my own.
“Right when I was ready to let you go, you came back,” he whispers softly, with despair and relief.
“I let you go,” I reply with the same. A mixture of both feelings for what I thought I had to settle with because of lies. “I thought I had to.”
“Liv, I’m not planning on ever letting you go again. You prepared for that?”
“Luke, you’re talking to Drunk Liv, so she’s totally ready for that.”
“Is Drunk Liv your inner conscience who spills all your secrets?” He grins.
“Basically,” I shrug nonchalant.
Oh you just wait, Drunk Liv, you’ll be kissing your own ass in the morning.
The hand cupping my face slips around my neck. Luke leans his face down to mine, and I can picture Joy bouncing around and cranking the new Luke machine up to a million.
He holds tight and kisses hard. All the air leaves my lungs. I was living and breathing off him.
The other hand closes around my hip. I part my lips and allow him to deepen the kiss. My fingers burying themselves in his hair.
I always thought the most intense thing about Luke was his eyes. But I had been wrong. It’s his mouth. His kiss takes ahold of me like a vice. Everything else around me ceased to exist. All I can think about or feel is my body’s reaction. And all the ways I want to get the same result out of him.
His tongue dips inside my mouth, a groan tearing through our tantalizing connection. My fingers dig and pull to somehow get us closer, but there’s no room left between us. Not from this angle, anyway. And I want to fill every space there is to fill.
My legs shift beneath me, lifting onto my knees and throwing a leg over his lap. The skirt stretches too tight.
“Goddamn leather,” I grumble.
Luke fixes my problem by sliding his rough hands up my thighs, pulling the skirt with them. It bunches at my hips, riding higher when I seat myself fully in his lap. My soft spots are only covered by a thin strip of lace. Bare thighs scrap his rugged jeans, and meet Luke’s hardness between us.
His evident response feels incredible beneath me. Magnificent and engorged, and I haven’t even seen what he’s packing with my own eyes.
Our lips find each other again. I grind down with a flick of my hips, releasing another moan from the pleasure our bodies ignite.
Maybe it’s the liquor enhancing my hormones, that’s what regular old Liv will want to believe, but I’ve never felt this way. Unhinged and raw. Able to shut the world out. There are no worries or excuses to come up with. It’s dangerous. But the beauty is, for once I can’t find a reason to care.
Kissing Luke gives me a freedom I’m not allowed to feel. Ever. Every day I’m locked up tight with responsibility and stress and loneliness. Surrounded by people, but always alone. Then he touches me. Our lips connect, our hands intertwine, or the brush of his finger running along my jaw, it doesn’t matter how, but Luke touching me sets me free.
It’s a glimpse at the woman I’ve always wanted to be. I left home, had a baby, and conquered insecurities by myself that I will never regret, but in all of that I still never found myself at the fullest capacity I can be. I’m independent and strong and this realization that a man makes me a better woman combats every thing I thought I believed.
But if he were a woman, would I blink an eye? I can’t blame this fulfillment on his sex. It’s simply my soul reaching out for a partner.
As my body begs Luke to take more, I beg the Liv that wakes up tomorrow morning to remember this moment.
The freedom.
He palms my ass. His bare hands gripping my naked cheeks has us both spiraling out of control.
“Fuck. Liv.” Luke’s snakes one hand into my hair, tugging at the roots and pulling me away enough to meet my hungry eyes. With another curse, he attacks my mouth fast and hard. Separating and drawing an angry growl from deep in my chest, he asks, “How drunk are you?”
“Hardly,” I lie.
He plants his forehead to mine with a groan.
“We have to stop.”
“Why?” I whine.
“For starters, this isn’t our couch.”
I stare down at the accusing drown fabric, ready to torch the damn thing.
“You’re drunk, I’m sober. That’s not how I want us to start.”
“Me being drunk may be the only way we start.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he cocks his brow with indignation.
“Nothing,” I mutter.
“If you think I don’t know what you’ll be blaming yourself with in the morning, then you have a lot to learn.” I hear his words, but my focus is his mouth and the wicked things we could be doing. “I know your weakness,” he whispers, causing my eyes to snap to attention. “And when you argue this tomorrow, which you will, I plan on shutting you up with my mouth.”
“Normally, I’d hate every word you just said, but right now it only turns me on more.”
He brings both hands to my face, cupping it fully and running his thumbs across my bottom lip. Luke’s eager, molten gaze devours every place his eyes fall upon.
I’m going to kiss him again.
I’m going to bring him to his knees.
I’m going to—
A throat clearing at the entrance of the family room has me jumping out of Luke’s lap.
I fling myself—bare ass and all—into the cushions while frantically shoving my skirt back down.
A pair of mussed heads and bodies grin at Luke and I.
“We run a frat house, honey,” Paul teases, wrapping an arm around Della.
I mewl, burying my face in Luke’s arm.
“Do I need to buy a new couch?” Paul asks without remorse.
“No, but I may offer to buy this one off of you for sentimental reasons.”
“Luke,” I ground out, causing him to join Paul in his laughter.
“I’ll meet you outside,” he says to Luke.
“Take your time,” Della chimes in.
“Oh my God,” I whine some more.
When I hear the front door click closed, I lift my head to look at Luke.
“Now I don’t feel bad that you will be going to bed with a raging boner,” I glare at him.
“Me? What’d I do?” he laughs with disbelief, pointing a finger at the center of his chest.
“Incorrigible,” I mutter, shaking my head at him.
Luke keeps smiling. Dropping the hand at his chest to my leg thrown around his as I fell to the side, he runs a smooth caress from ankle to calf.
Flutters slowed, but never really fled. The butterflies speed back up as I watch his intense gaze locked on me.
“Drink lots of water before you go to bed,” he says. That’s not what I was expecting at all. “It’ll help lesson the hangover.”
I nod. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Please, don’t,” he replies. “Bad enough I’m already going to bed with a raging boner. I don’t need to watch you walk away in this fucking skirt that should be burned.” For emphasis, he runs his hands over my leather covered hips.
“I think this just became my favorite piece of clothing. Glad Della’s letting me keep it.”
We stand, and I walk him to the front door. Before he opens it, he throws me against it and kisses me one final time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Luke purrs into my mouth.
“I’ll likely be avoiding you.”
“I love your honesty,” he smirks. “And you can try, but I’m not letting you run from me again.”
“Promise?” I ask on whisper, in a moment of weakness.
The playful banter is gone, and we stare at one another with clarity.
I’m a person who’s always in their head. Always overthinking. Aiming for the best solution for everyone else, and never what is best for me.
Luke thinks about what is best for me.
“I promise.”