“God damn,” he said under his breath. Her perfect ass cheeks were hanging through a rip in the back of her dress. She was wearing a hot pink thong. The thin strip of material went up the perfect crack of her perfect ass. She stumbled backwards then turned heading towards the house. She couldn’t walk a straight line if she tried. Luka shook his head in disgust.
He watched her fall up the steps and decided that was enough. Luka walked to the porch steps and stepped down one. She was now looking at his boots. She looked at them for a moment then Skylar leaned back to look up into his face.
“You still here. Oh goody.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not me,” she replied then proceeded to lean back too far and fall straight on her ass at the base of the stairs.
“Yep, you’re drunk. You were at the pond,” he said almost accusing. “Your boyfriend, go with you.”
“No he’s mad at me,” she replied. “He wouldn’t lower himself to go to da pond anyway,” Skylar snarled at Luka.
She just sat t
here with her flouncy skirt surrounding her in mounds of material that she continually fluffed. Her hair was wild and almost curly. She must have been riding with the windows down, he decided.
Luka sat down on the top step. “Why is he mad at you?”
“Because you are home,” she said continuing to play with her skirt. Then she glared at him.
“Feels threatened, does he?”
“Pshaw,” she said. “He has nuffin to be freatened about,” she mumbled.
“Then why did you end up with Brett at the pond getting drunk?” He asked.
She looked up at him sitting on the step. “Because,” she hesitated for the longest time. He wasn’t sure she was going to say anything else. “You kissed me.”
He chuckled. Beer always did loosen her sweet lips. “It is not funny, Luka Shaw.” She rose to her feet and not so gracefully. Skylar smoothed her skirt. “Let me by.”
Luka rose to his feet and stepped aside so she could slip past him careful that she didn’t touch any part of his body as she did so. She got to the door and laid her head against the wooden frame around the screen.
“Luka, why did ya come home?” She asked. Even tipsy she knew he had stepped behind her. He was close, too close. Her self-preservation kicked into overdrive. The alcohol was making her brave. She turned and leaned against the door. She turned her glazed eyes up to his face. “Why Luka? Just tell me please.”
He leaned one hand against the wall beside her head. He was so damn close to her. His breath was hot on her face. It smelled like mint while she smelled like beer.
“For you,” was all he said. His gaze was just as intense as hers was bleary from drinking the beers so quickly.
“No,” she gasped into her hand.
Luka drew Skylar against him with his hand that was free. She could feel the hardness of his body. The hardness of his erection through his jeans now pressed into her stomach. His hand went down her spine and over the curve of her ass. He cupped her bare ass cheek in his big palm.
“This is mine Skylar Bradford. You have always belonged to me. I own you.” She was shaking her head no.
“Oh no,” he argued.
Then he pressed his lips to hers not the sweet gentle kiss that he had given her before she left for the town meeting and the dance. This kiss was demanding. He was showing her that he still owned her body, her heart and her soul.
Skylar laced her arms around his neck and kissed him back with every ounce of the fierceness that he was showing her. He was holding her against him so high that her toes were straining to find ground beneath them.
She broke the kiss. She laid her forehead against his. “I’m going to be sick. Put me down.” Sky was breathless and desperate. He released her and she dashed through the front door. For a moment he hesitated trying to calm himself. Then he went after her.
His mother stood in the living room watching the hallway where Skylar had just passed through. Then he heard her. She was tossing all the beer she had drank in the toilet.
“What the hell happened to her?”
“She was with Brett at the pond,” he told his mom.