Free Luring Lucy by Lori Foster Page A

insects.
    At first, Bram hadn’t wanted to leave the couch. With his legs like rubber and his heart still pounding, he wasn’t sure he was even able to leave the couch. And he’d been more than willing to move right into stage three—once he’d regained his strength.
    But she’d slipped away from his hold, giving him no alternative but to follow her.
    The yard work was now done and he’d brought down his few bags from the car, unpacking them into the same dresser Lucy hadused. Whether or not she’d noticed the significance of that, Bram wasn’t sure. But she hadn’t said anything about it, so neither had he.
    While she put fresh linens on the bed, he’d gone for another swim. At the moment, he felt lazy and relaxed and warm with satisfaction.
    Lust was just below the surface, waiting for a look, a smile, from her that told him she was ready to go on to the next step. And even if she didn’t make a gesture, in a few more hours the sun would set, and he’d already told her what he planned.
    They had the whole night ahead of them.
    Before dinner, they’d taken turns showering, and now Lucy wore a soft pale green cotton sundress. She’d also combed her hair at some point, and it hung in a silky fall to her shoulders. He loved her hair and didn’t give a rat’s ass if she colored her silver streaks or not. Either way, her hair still felt the same, and it was still a part of Lucy.
    He’d agreed to grill the steaks while Lucy prepared the potatoes, after she’d informed him that she was, at last, famished. It was damn tough not to touch her, not to be as familiar as he now felt he could be. But even though Lucy kept smiling and looking secretly happy, she had DO NOT TOUCH signs plastered all over herself, warning him from pushing too fast.
    Lucy glanced up and shook her head at him. “Stop that.”
    He smiled. He’d been smiling nonstop since she’d had her orgasm in the kitchen. He couldn’t recall ever being so happy before.
    He took a leisurely drink of his soda before asking, “What?”
    â€œStaring at me. You’re making me feel . . .” She hesitated, licked her lips, then shrugged. “Nervous.”
    â€œYou were going to say ‘naked,’ weren’t you?” He loved teasing her. He loved loving her. “I make you feel naked, when I watch you. Isn’t that right?”
    Primly she replied, “I don’t want to put any ideas into yourhead.” A bird flew close, then landed on the railing to watch them. Lucy tossed a piece of bread to it, and the blue jay snatched it up and again took flight.
    Laughing out loud, Bram told her, “Too late, sweetheart. I’ve had ideas about you for a long, long time!”
    â€œYou did not.” It was too absurd to be true.
    â€œDid, too. You’re beautiful and I can’t help myself.”
    Carefully, with emphasized precision, she laid her fork beside her plate. “Do you mean that, Bram?”
    â€œCross my heart. You, sweetheart, replaced all my adolescent fantasies, which I gotta tell you were pretty goddamned vivid.”
    â€œEven while David and I were married?”
    Realizing the seriousness of her tone, Bram, too, pushed aside his food. He felt mellow and semisated after his release and was more than willing to do some of the talking he knew needed to be done. “You’re gorgeous, Lucy. Sexy. Smart and caring. Of course I had ideas about you. I’m just a man, susceptible to the same lusty thoughts as any other guy. I tried real hard not to let them show, though.”
    She seemed to be considering that, then said, “I’m almost forty.”
    â€œI know.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m already forty-one. So?”
    â€œI’m not a gorgeous forty. I’m . . . lumpy.”
    Bobbing his eyebrows at her breasts, he said, “Nice lumps.”
    â€œThat’s not what I