Love Story (Love Unexpectedly 3)

Reece never broke eye contact as he nudged inside her, slow at first, giving her body time to adjust.

It hurt. She’d known it would hurt. But it was also perfect.

And when finally he was inside her all the way, his body joined with hers, his eyes flashed in vulnerability, and her heart soared because she knew what he was feeling, even if he didn’t yet understand.

It was written all over Reece Sullivan’s face: he loved her too.

Chapter 29

Lucy

Reece releases me with one hand, his other reaching out behind him and closing the motel room door

with a firm, decisive slam.

The sound rolls through me. I know I’ve got exactly three seconds to come to my senses—to focus on the fact that once we see each other naked, tomorrow’s car ride is going to be excruciating.

But then he kisses me again, swinging me around so I’m sandwiched between his hard body and the hard wall.

His mouth is hot and possessive, and I’m lost. I want this. I want the second time with Reece that I should have had six years ago. I want—no, I need—to prove to myself that the perfection of that long-ago time was due to girlish romanticism. That he wasn’t actually that much better than every guy since.

Reece’s hand slides down over my butt, down behind my thigh, lifting it so he can move between my spread thighs, and I moan. Suddenly not at all sure that my plan won’t backfire in a big way—that Reece won’t prove that he’s not only as good as I remember…but better.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and stormy as he slowly lifts his eyebrows. His expression holds both a dare and a promise. “Last chance.”

I reach up, my hand sliding around his neck and pulling his mouth down to mine and kissing him with all the want and heartache of the past few years.

Thunder crashes, and it occurs to me that although the weather couldn’t be worse, the motel room couldn’t be grosser, the moment’s pretty darn close to perfect. It’s only us, and a bed and a boatload of bittersweet memories.

He kisses me on and on, and slowly I feel my doubts disappear. I let myself believe, just for a second, that he wants me the way I want him.

Reece cups my face as he steps even closer, his kiss fierce and hungry. I kiss him back, my hands everywhere. He’s bigger than I remember, his shoulders broad and hard. He’s still lean but with the hardened shape of a man instead of the lithe frame of a boy.

My hands slip under his shirt, and the second my fingers touch hot skin, I hate every other girl who’s touched him here, loathe every woman who’s known him like this.

He doesn’t let my mind linger there though. His mouth leaves no room for regrets as his tongue tangles wickedly with mine, making dirty promises about what’s to come.

My fingers pull at his damp shirt, wanting it off.

Reece steps back and gives me a slight smile before reaching behind his head and grabbing a fistful of the T-shirt, jerking it over his head and tossing it aside.

His cologne is even more potent now, drowning my senses. At least, I tell myself it’s the cologne. I’m half-terrified that it’s essence of Reece that’s making it impossible for me to think.

I expect him to tug my shirt up over my head, but instead he bends his head toward me, kissing me again, softly this time. His lips brush teasingly over mine, his mouth sweet and coaxing.

Like it was back then.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me,” I whisper against his mouth. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

He lets out a startled laugh. “I know. I was there.”

I nearly smile at the memory, but something else is creeping in around my heated lust…fear. Fear that by repeating the magic of that one night, I’ll be setting myself up for the pain that followed.

His smile slips away as he searches my face. “You always deserve gentle, Lucy.”

I hear the question there, and the promise. Were the other guys gentle? I’ll kill them if not.

I don’t know how to tell him that it’s not about gentle or rough; it’s about the guy. It’s all about that elusive connection between two people that takes sex from being okay to epic.