The Coincidence 04 The Probability of Violet and Luke by Jessica Sorensen Page B
Book: The Coincidence 04 The Probability of Violet and Luke by Jessica Sorensen
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Authors: Jessica Sorensen
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completely unashamed as I try to rip off his shirt, but it doesn’t work like it does in the movies and I end up just stretching it out.
He lets out a soft chuckle at my failed attempt, but the noise gets caught in his throat. “You taste so much better than I remember,” he says in a husky voice before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, deliberately, causing a slow burn to build inside me that only amplifies when his hands wander up the front of my thighs and underneath my dress. Needing to touch more of him, I sneak my fingers up the front of his shirt and feel the lean muscles flex beneath my hands. His breath falters as if I’m driving him mad. It’s different, somehow, from the last time we were together, like he’s gotten more vulnerable.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he says, between kisses as his fingers graze the edge of my panties, his movements rough and sloppy, built by desperation.
Suddenly I’m reminded why we haven’t touched each other in two months, and what I’ve been doing with Preston for two months, and why I should pull back. If I was a good person, I would. I’d put my parents above my horniness and just tell Luke what I let Preston do to me, how I let him touch me. I know it would get him to stop, but I guess I’m not a good person. Never really have been. And the adrenaline pulsating through my body, instilled by Luke’s touch and kisses, isn’t helping either.
Keeping my thoughts to myself, I slant against the mirror behind me, surprising him at first as out lips disconnect. His eyelids lift open and he’s worried that I’m stopping this, but I grab the front of his shirt and draw him to me until our lips reunite. Then we kiss each other deeply, our tongues entangled, his fingers slipping into my panties and inside me and I bite down on his lip as his touch brings me pleasure not pain and shame like I thought it would, like Preston’s does.
At one point, Luke leans back slightly, watching me as I get lost, drifting away from the reality that I wake up hating every day, while holding onto him, moments later falling apart in his arms. There’s a pause as the haze and heat leave my body and mind and I can tell he thinks I’m going to bail—I can see it in his eyes. I have no intentions on doing so and I slant forward to kiss him again. But right as our lips brush, we’re interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Luke, get the fuck out here.” Another loud bang and the whole door rattles. “We have a huge fucking problem we need to discuss.”
I feel Luke’s muscles go rigid as he moves away and stares at the door, trying to figure something out as he scratches his head. Recollection slowly clicks across his face and he staggers away from the door, patting the back pockets of his jeans before rummaging around in all of them. “Fuck, I’m screwed.” He pats his plaid shirt pocket and lets out a frustrated breath.
I hop off the counter and readjust my dress over my legs. “What’s wrong?”
He swiftly shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” Without looking at me, he blows out a breath. “You need to go.” His gaze finally resides on me and through the drunken dazedness I detect a hint of fear. “Walk out of here, leave this fucking house, and don’t come back.”
Someone knocks against the door again. “Luke, if you don’t get out here now, I’m going to have to bust the fucking door down and that’s just going to piss Geraldson off more.”
I shake my head, tucking wilds strands of my hair behind my ears. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you did,” I tell Luke, but then seconds later I put two and two together “Did you cheat?”
He puts his finger to his lips, urging me to be quiet. “I always do,” he whispers.
“We found the fucking ace that fell out of your pocket!” The guy shouts from the other side. There’s a deafening bang as he probably rams himself into the door. “I warned you not to do this man!”
“Shit,
He lets out a soft chuckle at my failed attempt, but the noise gets caught in his throat. “You taste so much better than I remember,” he says in a husky voice before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, deliberately, causing a slow burn to build inside me that only amplifies when his hands wander up the front of my thighs and underneath my dress. Needing to touch more of him, I sneak my fingers up the front of his shirt and feel the lean muscles flex beneath my hands. His breath falters as if I’m driving him mad. It’s different, somehow, from the last time we were together, like he’s gotten more vulnerable.
“I don’t want to let you go,” he says, between kisses as his fingers graze the edge of my panties, his movements rough and sloppy, built by desperation.
Suddenly I’m reminded why we haven’t touched each other in two months, and what I’ve been doing with Preston for two months, and why I should pull back. If I was a good person, I would. I’d put my parents above my horniness and just tell Luke what I let Preston do to me, how I let him touch me. I know it would get him to stop, but I guess I’m not a good person. Never really have been. And the adrenaline pulsating through my body, instilled by Luke’s touch and kisses, isn’t helping either.
Keeping my thoughts to myself, I slant against the mirror behind me, surprising him at first as out lips disconnect. His eyelids lift open and he’s worried that I’m stopping this, but I grab the front of his shirt and draw him to me until our lips reunite. Then we kiss each other deeply, our tongues entangled, his fingers slipping into my panties and inside me and I bite down on his lip as his touch brings me pleasure not pain and shame like I thought it would, like Preston’s does.
At one point, Luke leans back slightly, watching me as I get lost, drifting away from the reality that I wake up hating every day, while holding onto him, moments later falling apart in his arms. There’s a pause as the haze and heat leave my body and mind and I can tell he thinks I’m going to bail—I can see it in his eyes. I have no intentions on doing so and I slant forward to kiss him again. But right as our lips brush, we’re interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Luke, get the fuck out here.” Another loud bang and the whole door rattles. “We have a huge fucking problem we need to discuss.”
I feel Luke’s muscles go rigid as he moves away and stares at the door, trying to figure something out as he scratches his head. Recollection slowly clicks across his face and he staggers away from the door, patting the back pockets of his jeans before rummaging around in all of them. “Fuck, I’m screwed.” He pats his plaid shirt pocket and lets out a frustrated breath.
I hop off the counter and readjust my dress over my legs. “What’s wrong?”
He swiftly shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” Without looking at me, he blows out a breath. “You need to go.” His gaze finally resides on me and through the drunken dazedness I detect a hint of fear. “Walk out of here, leave this fucking house, and don’t come back.”
Someone knocks against the door again. “Luke, if you don’t get out here now, I’m going to have to bust the fucking door down and that’s just going to piss Geraldson off more.”
I shake my head, tucking wilds strands of my hair behind my ears. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what you did,” I tell Luke, but then seconds later I put two and two together “Did you cheat?”
He puts his finger to his lips, urging me to be quiet. “I always do,” he whispers.
“We found the fucking ace that fell out of your pocket!” The guy shouts from the other side. There’s a deafening bang as he probably rams himself into the door. “I warned you not to do this man!”
“Shit,
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