Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife: Chapter 34
feet as I walked. When we got her two months ago, this maneuver of hers nearly sent me sprawling. But we’d worked out a system—she did what she wanted, and I learned to adapt.
Luca walked through the front door just as I passed the entry. Clem immediately detached from me to attach to him.
“Hello, you.”
“Hey, pretty girl.”
He picked Clem up and crossed to me, dropping a quick kiss to my cheek, even though I was aching for so much more. Luca was steadfast in his determination to keep our physical interactions outside of our home, and I hated it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.
I constantly missed him, even when he was right in front of me.
It was like having half of him.
Not that I was a sex fiend. It was more that I was a Luca fiend. I would have settled for a cuddle, but he wouldn’t even give me that.
I played off my disappointment, arching a brow. “Are you talking to me or the cat?”
He kissed the top of Clem’s head. “You’re my pretty girl. Clementine is my princess.”
I leaned into the two of them, stealing a little bit of contact. “As it should be. By the way, Clara’s spending the night.”
Luca’s head jerked up. “What? Why?”
My shoulder lifted. “She said she can’t get comfortable in her own bed and has been dreaming about your guest bed. I told her of course she can spend the night at our place. As many nights as she needs.”
Clara was a month away from her due date. She hadn’t really slowed down, despite the beach ball she was carrying in front, and she never complained. So, when she called me this afternoon and her voice cracked when she told me how tired she was, I immediately invited her. How could I not?
Luca put Clem down so he could shove his hands into his hair. “It’s going to look awfully strange when you and I don’t share a bedroom.”
I curled my fingers around his wrists, pulling his hands down to his side. “I sent Miles home early so I could clean out every trace of myself from my bedroom and move my things to your room. I’m sorry to tell you, you’ll have to share your bed with me for a night or two, but I’ve heard I sleep like a corpse, so it shouldn’t be too much of a burden.”
Luca didn’t look any less relieved. If anything, he seemed to be horrified, which was a dagger to my chest. I was starved for him, and he was reacting like sharing a bed with me was his worst nightmare.
“Fucking Clara,” he muttered. “How long is she staying?”
“She didn’t say.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek while he bored holes into the floor. “I’m not picky about where I sleep. I’ll just sleep on the flo—”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Saoirse.” He glared at me like I was enemy number one. “We managed just fine in Wyoming, we’ll be fine here too. It just took me a minute to come to terms with it.”
Dear god. He had to come to terms with sleeping with me. I didn’t think he realized how awful that sounded. Luca wasn’t a cruel person, and he made his affection for me obvious. We had become good friends over the past few months, but that was where it ended for him.
Besides the hotel sex, of course.
I’d fallen for him.
I hadn’t meant to. It hadn’t been part of the plan. But it had been impossible not to.
I walked out of the bathroom in sweatpants and Luca’s T-shirt. My skin already itched from all the extra fabric, but it was for the best. Wearing my normal skimpy pajamas didn’t really seem fair to either of us.
Luca was in bed, his back against the headboard, laptop on his legs. He glanced at me over the screen.
“What are you wearing?” he groused.
“My pajamas.” I climbed into bed, situating myself on the edge, and grabbed my Kindle.
He’d been grumpy with me all night, though he was sweet to Clara, making sure she had everything she needed in the guest room down the hall. She hadn’t even peeked into my bedroom, so moving all my things probably hadn’t been necessary, but it was better safe than sorry.
Luca was still looking at me. “Those aren’t your pajamas.”
I plucked at my T-shirt. “I borrowed this. I promise to wash it before I return it.”
“I don’t mind my clothes smelling like you, Saoirse. I’m wondering why you’re wearing them.”
“It’s better this way.”
I turned on my Kindle, blindly flipping the pages while he stared. Eventually, he looked away from me, returning his attention to his computer.
In my head, I rolled to Luca’s side of the bed and snuggled into his side while I read and he worked. In my fantasy, every once in a while, he’d reach over, stroke my hair, or drop a kiss on the top of my head.
Instead, we spent the next hour in silence, a cold stretch of mattress between us. Eventually, I gave in and said good night. I couldn’t stand one more minute of this strained atmosphere.
Besides, I was tired. Starting a new company was no joke. Peak Strategies officially had two clients. Kenji and a tech startup. Actual strangers had hired us. Miles and I had been throwing our whole selves into this venture.
The problem was I couldn’t get comfortable. My legs felt like they were tangled in fabric, and my shirt kept twisting around my torso every time I moved. But I couldn’t stop moving because I was being suffocated by my own pajamas.
So, I turned.
Rolled.
Flopped.
Sighed out my frustrations.
“Is this you sleeping like a corpse?” Luca had closed his laptop and turned off the lights a while ago. I’d assumed he was asleep. Obviously, I’d been wrong.
“Sorry. I’m trying to get comfortable. I’ll be still.”
I tried. I really did. I lay there until Luca’s breathing evened out and tried to convince myself it was soothing. And it was. It was just that I felt like I had ropes around my legs.
I decided to kick off my sweatpants. I was under the covers, so he wouldn’t see if he happened to wake up before me.
Raising my hips, I wiggled the loose pants down. They were around my knees when Luca cleared his throat.
“What’s happening now?”
I shoved them the rest of the way off. “I took off my pants.”
“Is this a seduction technique I’m unaware of?”
“It’s not. I thought you were asleep.”
“I was, but then the bed started rocking and rolling.”
I snorted, rubbing my bare legs on the smooth sheets. Much better. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Says the woman flailing about. Just put on your regular pajamas. I can control myself.”
“I was being thoughtful, Luca. There’s no need to be rude about it. Anyway, I’m fine now that I took my pants off. I’ll survive the night.”
He made a grumbling sound. “Go to sleep.”
“I plan to when you stop talking to me.”
He went quiet then, and I stared up at the ceiling, trying to force myself not to wish for his arms around me.
Eventually, I fell asleep.
I woke to a hand on my bare breast and my back cradled against a hard chest. Luca’s hot breath was on my neck, and in his sleep, his thumb rubbed my beaded nipple.
“You took your shirt off,” he murmured.
Okay, not sleeping.
I opened my eyes, peering down at myself. I was naked except for my underwear.
“Shit. I don’t remember doing that.”
His laugh was gritty and low. “You really hate wearing clothes to bed.”
“Despise it.” I wiggled back to steal some of his heat. “How did we end up in this position?”
“I woke up here.”
“And you didn’t immediately vault out of the bed?”
His teeth nipped my shoulder. “Are you complaining?”
“Just asking. I have no complaints at all.”
We stayed like that, Luca holding me and stroking my breast, me pretty much basking in the contact. He was aroused, and my panties were soaked, but neither of us made a move to take it further.
In a lot of ways, this was as far as we’d ever gone. The intimacy of these quiet moments soaked beneath my skin and embedded in my heart. I wanted this, but I was so afraid to voice it. Luca had been explicit in what this was and wasn’t, and he hadn’t wavered from that.
Was this wavering?
I shut my eyes, closed off my thoughts, and enjoyed the unparalleled bliss of waking in this man’s arms.
Clara showed no signs of going home. This was her third night here, and judging by how clear her eyes had been the last two mornings, she really was resting better in our guest room.
Neither Luca nor I could possibly begrudge her presence. Clementine had taken to her also, curling around her belly when Clara sat down, purring to her little heart’s content.
I slipped between the sheets wearing a black satin nightgown. It was my longest, least embellished gown. But Luca looked at me like I was armed to the teeth.
He was on his back, reading a novel. I’d learned Luca preferred science fiction. But he rested it on his chest to look at me.
“Hey, you,” I said softly.
With a sigh, he knocked his book to the floor and opened his arms. “Come here.”
Without a single beat of hesitation, I threw myself onto him. My leg draped over his, arm curled around his bare middle, my head snuggled on his shoulder. Locking his hand on my hip, he dragged me a little closer.
Neither of us said a word about what we were doing. It was like we both knew if we did, it would break the spell. We would have remembered why this was off-limits.
I wasn’t going to be the one to replace the space between us. Luca would have to kick me across the mattress to be rid of me.
“I’m worried about Clara.”
His sudden speech startled me. “About her pregnancy?”
“Not so much that. She’s handling the physical stuff pretty well. A while ago, she came to me and told me something was off with Miller. She’d asked him if he was cheating, which he denied.”
I shuddered. “I can’t picture Clara sleeping with Miller, let alone anyone else.”
His grip tightened. “Please don’t try. I’m already horrified when I think about how she got knocked up.”
That made me laugh a little. “Has she said anything else lately?”
“No, and that’s why I’m worried. Every time I’ve tried to broach the subject, she shuts me down. I was hoping things were better. Hell, I even hired a PI who’d found nothing on him. But she’s here.”
“And he’s not,” I filled in.
“Yeah.” His chest rose when he sucked in a deep breath. “I’m at a fucking loss. If she doesn’t open up to me, how do I help her?”
I raised my head, looking at his worried face. “Give her space and support. Let her stay here without questioning why. It’s not so bad having her here, is it?”
The anger in his gaze ebbed as his eyes flowed over me. He reached up and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, then dragged his knuckles along my jaw.
I didn’t breathe as he touched me with a gentleness that was foreign and reverent.
“It’s not so bad, right?” I whispered.
“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t bad at all.”
He cupped my crown, drawing me down to him. Our lips met in a tentative caress. Testing the waters. Taking a sip, then another.
But I was so thirsty for Luca that one sip or a hundred would never be enough.
At first, all we did was kiss and kiss and kiss. Slow and soft. Deep and searching. Fingers in hair. My hand over his heart. His holding me tight against him.
We were careful with one another in a way we had never been. I was achy, like I had the flu. My need for Luca’s touch had seeped into my bones. Each slide of his hand over my silky nightgown soothed.
But it was when he shifted us so his chest was on top of mine that I melted and tension flowed out of me in ragged rivers.
Words weren’t spoken. There was no discussion when he slipped my nightgown off and lowered his sleep pants. Our heated skin melded like it was always meant to be touching.
Luca didn’t command me. I didn’t sass him. This was different than all the other times, yet exactly the same. His body knew mine. We were drawn to each other in a way I’d never been drawn to anyone else. Even as we broke the rules in Luca’s quiet, dimly lit bedroom, that hadn’t changed. He held my strings, and I danced for him, though it was a languid, sultry pas de deux instead of the usual fiery tango.
Luca pressed my thighs apart as he buried his face between them. I covered my mouth with the back of my hand, muffling the moans he elicited from me with the flat of his tongue on my slick, swollen flesh. In the back of my mind, I still feared if I was too loud, the spell would break.
And I would die if the spell broke.
When I reached my peak, Luca’s palm traveled up my torso and rested over my thrashing heart. The heart he’d unknowingly unlocked and set free.
I crumbled then. Crumbled and fell even harder for this man.
When he climbed over me and stared down at my face, I thought there was no way he couldn’t read the magnitude of my feelings for him. But if he did, he showed no signs. He remained intense and focused on me, fitting himself inside me in one smooth stroke.
He moved above me, into me, advancing and retreating, but never for long. As soon as he slid out, he pushed back in, somehow deeper every time. When we weren’t kissing, we were caressing, stroking, touching. Eyes locked, panting breaths exchanging air that wasn’t mine or his but ours.
Luca wasn’t in love with me. He cared for me, though. Deeply, tenderly. And he was showing me without any restraint.
I wasn’t certain the unbound emotions running rampant within me could be called love either. But I suspected that was what this was, and I couldn’t keep them neatly tucked away.
I didn’t want to terrify him either.
So, I closed my eyes and kissed him hard, looping my arms around his neck, locking my legs around his middle.
I told him with my body that I wanted him, wanted him, wanted him.
He answered by giving me more and more and more.
We came together with a kiss that was more exaltation than a meeting of lips. I said Luca’s name with my tongue on his. He uttered mine in the fluttering pecks he placed on my lips. My neck arched, lifting my chin, my cries of pleasure ringing from me like bells in a tower. Luca’s head bowed next to mine, so we were cheek to cheek, and his groans became a chorus with my cries until there was nothing left but the echoes of us.
We stayed connected even as Luca rolled us to our sides. I scuttled closer, my leg over his hip, keeping him there.
“Don’t move,” I murmured, hiding my face in his chest.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to.” His lips touched the top of my head, exactly as they did in my fantasies.
“Just a little while longer. Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl.”
I fell asleep with Luca inside me, around me, over me.
I had never slept better in my life.