nice. The way his mouth moves against mine is achingly familiar … but I realise it’s not giving me the feels I get when Theo’s lips are on mine. Kissing Lucas used to be as natural as breathing, but … it feels wrong now. His kisses don’t make my heart sing or my body vibrate with excitement. As Lucas’s hands wrap around my hips and he trails kisses down my neck, there are no tummy butterflies or sighs in happiness, no burning need to press so close to him that we meld into one … like there is with Theo.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Now that my mind is on Theo, I can’t get it off.
I think about his beautiful smile and his laugh that makes my skin prickle with pleasure. I think about the little line he gets between his eyebrows when he’s sketching, his love for his niece and nephew, how his hugs feel, how he’s always subtly making sure I’m okay, supporting me and propping me up, and the hilarious things he comes out with. Being with Theo is something like I’ve never experienced with a guy before. He makes me feel so at ease in my own skin that I can fully let my guard down for once and let him glimpse the real me, the girl I had to temper down and all but push into a lockbox because I didn’t suit Lucas’s version of ideal. With Theo, I don’t feel the need to hide myself or change for him. He just likes me the way I am. I’ve never had that.
As Lucas’s mouth finds mine again and he kisses me urgently, nipping at my bottom lip, attempting to deepen the kiss, I realise … it’s not him I want. It’s Theo.
And just like that, my mind snaps back to the present.
I clamp my mouth shut and turn my head, moving my hands to Lucas’s shoulders, pushing him away from me. “Stop it.” My voice is a breathless whisper.
He doesn’t take the hint. He crowds back into me, his thumb tracing across my bottom lip, his eyes boring into mine. “So, you got stuck in a lift with that prick, huh? I saw it on Twitter—that’s how you met. And you went to Scotland with him last weekend?” His eyes narrow in accusation as he pins me with his hard stare.
I frown, confused by his change in direction and by his question itself. How did he know I went to Scotland?
I’m about to ask, but he cuts me off.
He sighs, a knowing smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing, Lucie?” His voice is calculated and controlled. “Bringing in some guy to try and make me jealous. Going away with him. Parading around in this dress that you know I hate. Are you that desperate to get my attention?” His fingers close around my upper arms, and he pulls me tight against his body, inclining his head to growl directly into my ear, “Well, you’ve got it, sweetheart. Is that what you wanted when you put on this whore dress and high-heeled shoes? You wanted me to take one look at you and fuck you against the wall again like a dirty little slut?”
Before I can react to his words, he spins me around, pushing me face-first against the wall so fast that the air whooshes out of my lungs in one big burst. Instantly, he presses in against my back, pinning me there with his body. Against my backside, I can feel how hard he is already as his hands slowly slide down my body, spanning over my hips.
A cold shiver tickles down my spine.
No. This doesn’t feel right. Something’s wrong, my brain is screaming at me, but I don’t move.
My chest is tight. I can’t draw in a breath. A memory or sensation prickles in the back of my mind. This sensation, this fright, I’ve felt this before …
I shake my head, my words caught in my throat.
“No?” he whispers. His breath blowing across my ear makes me shudder.
“No.”
Suddenly, he spins me back around to face him. I lose my balance in my high shoes, and a small pain tears across my ankle. I slam back against the wall, letting out a whimper. Lucas instantly cages me in, his arms on either side of me as he leans in, trapping me there. His hard ice-blue eyes are inches from mine. They’re cold and unflinching.