Stef Ann Holm, Lucy Back [paper ebook reader .TXT] 📗

ready for the big show. Sounds of laughter drifted to her ears. The pops and explosions of fireworks filled the night.

For the first time since coming here, she felt really good about her decision. She knew she wasn’t home free yet. Jason was doing well, but he could be influenced by the wrong crowd. Her business was picking up, but not thriving. Yet she’d made some friends and had started to fit into this life. These were all important achievements.

She didn’t like the narrow-minded gossiping, but she supposed that could happen anywhere. Within the small perimeter of Red Duck’s city limits, she just happened to notice it more.

“Hey, Lucy. P. J. Guffy said you put on a good spread,” Drew called out, and she turned toward his voice. “That’s saying a lot for a guy who puts Bugles on his bar as beer snacks.”

In spite of herself, Lucy laughed at the silly comparison. “I’ve never been told I was better than beer snacks.”

“Sugar, I’m sure you’re better than just about anything.” The murmur of his voice washed through her, making more shivers.

She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to do this—let him get her heart skipping beats. He did so without even trying, and she sensed he knew that.

Needing space between them, she took a step back, resting her butt against her car. She hadn’t had the chance to talk to him alone in what felt like forever.

That thought had her pulse skittering.

She could get her heart into a lot of trouble if she fell for this man. Drew did things on his own terms. He made it known he was available, but only when he felt like doing the chasing. She wasn’t expert enough to gauge his moods or read him all that well. But she had gathered this much: he wasn’t the type to date because of loneliness. He kept busy, led a full life. Didn’t need a wife, but he liked being in the company of a pretty woman.

In spite of her boys and her growing business, she hated admitting she was lonely. The nights were the hardest. Lying in bed all by herself, missing the security of a man’s arms around her. Snuggling in close beneath warm sheets. The feel of a wide hand on her behind, cupping her next to him. The length of a man settled between her legs, desire burning between them. That ability to have sex whenever she wanted, because the man beside her was committed to her…was in love with her.

Lucy flushed. She looked into those hazel eyes of Drew’s and willed herself not to want to kiss him right now.

“You’re beautiful,” he said into the night. Leaning forward, he pressed his hips to hers, pinning her to the car. “I think about you.”

She couldn’t find her voice. The moment felt surreal. She thought about him, too. But her thoughts were usually scattered and disjointed. Mostly, she was talking herself out of him.

She started to say something, tried to think of some snappy response, anything to make her come across as unaffected by his words. It wasn’t good to show a man he could have her without hardly trying—at least that’s what she’d read in one of those self-help books after Gary’s affair.

“Well, I think—”

But any comment she would have made was cut off as Drew’s mouth settled over hers.

Inhaling deeply, she could actually feel the heat radiate from him and seep through her clothes. This was real. All those times she’d imagined him kissing her were nothing compared to having him here.

She softly groaned against his lips, opening her mouth and welcoming his tongue. If she hadn’t been up against her car, her knees would have given out. Sensations ignited her body, and she came alive in ways she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Her hair brushed the curve of her neck, and she wanted him to bury his face there, to kiss her skin, then go lower to the swell of her breasts.

She felt her nipples harden, straining in the lace cups of her bra. Those big, suntanned hands of his slid ever so slowly down her bare shoulders, her arms, then caressed her breasts. The firm pads of his thumbs rubbed her nipples, making small circular motions.

Her hands explored the strength and contours of his back and the thinly ribbed white cotton stretched taut against his frame. She seriously thought about yanking his shirt off.

Lucy shook, her fingers aching to release the button from his shorts and…she could feel the bulge pressed against her. She wanted to run her hands over his thighs, feel him bunch the fabric of her top and lay the flat of his palm on her skin.

Slip a hand down her shorts and put his finger…

She stood on tiptoes, eyes closed, and kept her lips on his. In his arms, she forgot all reason, didn’t think about consequences. It was dangerous, but also exciting.

Right now, all she could feel was the burning heat from Drew’s body, the burning need to have him inside her.

She felt the rough khaki of his shorts rub against the bare skin on her thighs, a light friction that caused a groan to work up her throat. His right hand slipped behind her to bring her closer. His hard hand felt sinfully good kneading her butt, and she didn’t care that he was working on the hooks of her bra with his other hand. She sucked in her breath, let out a gasp when her breasts came free and he rolled a nipple between this thumb and finger.

She had to touch him. Everywhere. His neck, back, shoulders, waist and thighs. Then her palm settled on the fly of his shorts, exploring and learning.

Drew’s hands fitted into her underarms as he lifted her up on the trunk of the car, spread her thighs and settled in between them. She hooked her legs around him, keeping him close as she lay back on the window glass. Her sweater had come off at some