Divided Interests (Southern Bride 3)

“Is that a yes?” he asked, his words ever-so-slightly slurred. Was he drunk from alcohol or desire? I couldn’t deny I wanted it to be from desire.

Say no. Say no. He thinks you are someone else, and he is clearly drunk.

When I didn’t say anything, Lucas rubbed his thumb over my hardened nipple. I gasped, then pressed my mouth in a tight line.

“Christ, Paige. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Sooo, clearly he knows it’s me and not his ex. Okay. Now, I really need to stop this.

“Thank you?”

I closed my eyes and groaned inwardly. It had come out like a damn question. I had meant to say, ‘Lucas, stop touching me. You’re drunk. Go to bed.’ Instead, when he pinched my nipple, I moaned in utter delight because it felt damn good. And I was horny. And Lucas was standing in front of me looking utterly delicious, and my mind couldn’t think straight around him.

“You like that?” he asked before dipping his head down and pressing his mouth to mine.

For a moment, I stood there, shocked. Lucas was kissing me…while pinching my nipple. And sweet mother of God, it felt really good. Really, really good.

I put my hands on his chest and tried to will myself to push him away. Instead, I grabbed at his shirt and pulled him closer. He groaned and grabbed my leg, pulling it up so he could push his hard dick into my core.

Gasping at the feel of him there, I slid my hands up his chest and pushed them into his hair. God, I’d forgotten what an amazing kisser he was. How lost in him I could get.

He moved his hips, and I could confirm that he was indeed, not average. He pushed harder against me, and I snapped back to reality because sober Lucas would not be doing this. I knew that much. There was no way in hell. He acted like he couldn’t stand to be around me most of the time. I needed to stop this before things went too far. Drunk regrets are the worst kind of regrets.

I broke the kiss, but he was still pushing against my core. Even in the darkness, I could see the desire in his eyes. Yeah, he was drunk.

“Stop,” I whispered.

Lucas instantly stopped. He looked into my eyes and didn’t say a word. Stumbling back, he stared at the ground.

“You’ve been drinking, Lucas, and don’t know what you’re doing. If you were sober, you wouldn’t even have looked twice at me as you headed to your bedroom.”

He brought his gaze back to meet mine. I wanted to be able to read his expression, but his eyes were void of all emotion, a drunken haze covering their usual luster. He swayed from side to side.

“You should go to bed,” I said, looking down the hall that led to the master bedroom.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. Suddenly he seemed perfectly fine.

I nodded, but didn’t speak, because it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to feel his hands on my body again. His tongue dancing with mine. His hard dick inside me.

My hand came up to my mouth to stop me from saying anything more, and for a moment, he looked like he was going to speak. Then something on his face changed. He almost looked…mad?

He laughed. “Damn, well, okay then. Goodnight.”

I watched as he made his way down the hall. After steadying my breathing, I took a quick look around the kitchen and made sure all the windows and doors were locked. I heard a loud crash from Lucas’s room. With him drunk, I couldn’t just walk away and ignore it. I made my way to his bedroom. A random thought occurred. Had he driven his dad’s old truck while he had been drinking? I was totally going to lay into him for driving while drinking. I knocked on the door to his bedroom.

“Lucas?”

His bedroom door hadn’t been shut all the way, and it pushed open just enough for me to walk inside. I stepped into the bedroom and quietly called his name. I didn’t want to scare the hell out of him if the sound I heard was nothing. The shower was going and the door to the bathroom was wide open. All I could see was steam coming out of the doorway.

“Shoot, what if he freaking fell?” I whispered. Part of me wanted to leave him there for what he had just done to me. The other part, the part that still cared slightly for him, knew I couldn’t. He hadn’t seemed all that drunk, but he had always been able to handle alcohol much better than me.

I tiptoed to the bathroom and was about to call out his name when I heard moaning. I froze. My heart instantly hammered in my chest.

“Oh God. Yeah, faster.”