He unlocked the apartment door and pushed it open, again allowing me to enter first. I gasped when he switched on some overhead lights.
“Oh my God, it’s beautiful!”
The apartment wasn’t big, but it was so stylish and well-appointed, I couldn’t imagine needing anything more. Straight ahead was a living room, and immediately to the left was a tiny but gleaming kitchen—all white with black granite counters. The floors were polished light wood, with a black and ivory chevron rug in the living room.
Lucas switched on a lamp, and I wandered deeper inside, turning in a full circle to admire the warm colors and classic décor, which was somehow elegant and masculine at the same time. The ceiling and moldings were white, but the walls were painted a warm taupe. Against the wall to the right was a brown velvet antique sofa, above which hung three large framed mirrors.
Two huge, floor-to-ceiling windows faced the street, each bracketed with long chocolate-colored silk drapes held back by thick rope tassels. Taking a breath, I turned to my left and drifted into the bedroom area, which was behind an antique dressing screen.
The double bed had a plain ivory, rectangular headboard that looked like it was upholstered in leather but I wasn’t close enough to touch it—yet. With my stomach jumping, I took in the wall behind the bed, which was papered in brown and white geometric shapes. The bold look was softened by a huge square print of a white rose hanging above the bed.
I looked at Lucas. “Your mother has good taste.”
“She does.” He laid his keys and wallet on a bench in front of the bedroom window. “Although I don’t think she’s stayed here in years. She and Sebastien have a townhouse over on the right bank. Mostly she keeps this for me.” He closed the drapes before turning back to me, and I gave him a sly look through lowered lashes.
“Mama’s boy, huh? Baby of the family?”
Lucas shrugged. “Not really. Maybe she feels guilty for leaving me to move back here when I was so young.”
Nodding slowly, I wondered if he harbored any resentment about that. I’d have asked him, except he was coming toward me with a look in his eye that said I Do Not Want To Talk About My Mother Right Now.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked. “A glass of wine?”
“No, thanks.” My hands were gripping my bag, and I felt unsure of myself all of a sudden. I’d actually never had a one-night stand or even gone home with someone on a first date. Would this be awkward? Should I pretend I didn’t know what I wanted to do? Should I say what I was thinking or try to be coy?
“You don’t look OK. You look nervous.” He tipped up my chin, his brown eyes soft and serious. “No pressure, Mia. We can just hang out and listen to records and drink wine, if you want. Or I can take you back to your hotel and see you tomorrow.”
God, he really was handsome. How had I not seen it from the moment we met? And he was so sweet and funny and interesting, and right now he had way, way, way too many clothes on. My confidence returned.
“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy.” I dropped my purse to the floor and threw my arms around his neck, crushing my mouth to his. He barely had time to wrap his arms around me when I pulled back slightly. “Well, I don’t know, maybe it will be that easy.”
He laughed, putting his hands beneath my ass and hitching me up so my legs wrapped around his waist. “You are a f**king delight, princess. It’s like you know the dirty jokes in my head I’m too scared to make in front of you.”
Giggling, I kicked off my flats and crossed my ankles behind him.
“Never be scared to make a dirty joke in front of me. I have a surprisingly filthy mind.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Really.”
I nodded. “Are you shocked?”
“Yes. But pleased.”
Our mouths came together again, hotter and hungrier and holy shit he knew how to kiss. Now that we weren’t in a public place, Lucas kissed me in an entirely different way, his full lips opening wide, his tongue sliding between them, thrusting in and out in a way that hinted at what was to come.
Pulling him tighter to me with my legs, I threaded my fingers through those dark curls, luxuriating in the feel of his thick hair in my hands and the gentle scratch of his stubble on my face. Had I really found it unappealing yesterday? Now I couldn’t get enough of it, and I was desperate to feel his weight on me, his bare skin on mine, his na**d body between my legs.
“I can’t believe this,” I whispered as his hot mouth traveled down my neck.
“Me either. But I can’t say I haven’t been thinking about it all day.” His words were muffled against my skin and I felt the vibrations of his voice on my throat, sending another current of desire sluicing through me. He moved toward the bed and lowered me onto my back. “Give me one second.”
I released my hold on him, and he straightened, ditched his shoes and shrugged out of his coat, which he tossed on the window seat. Now that he wore only the fitted t-shirt, I could better appreciate the lean muscularity of his upper body, which tapered to a trim waist. I slipped my jacket from my shoulders as well and tossed it over his on the bench. Then leaning back on my hands, I stared at his perfect ass as he opened a small armoire against the wall.
Oh my God, he’s so f**king hot. And he’s been thinking about me like this all day? I felt giddy, like a teenager with a first crush. I needed to get my hands on him—it took all my willpower to stay on the bed.