May 1, 2020
Book Two of the UNDONE series, following unrivaled
Jeon Jungkook is one of the youngest security experts in the country and he is working to keep his boss's company out of crisis. He is not alone. His friends are all professionals and d...
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As they entered, Jungkook was surprised at how cold the apartment was.
Lyra explained to him she had forgotten to turn the heat on when they left. Despite his protests she hurried to do so as he slipped his shoes off by the door.
He also untied his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt as he walked further in the room. He caught Lyra staring at him wide eyed and he rushed to apologize.
“Lyra, I am sorry. I am not used to wearing a tie these days. I…I….” He stumbled. He was about to say he forgot for a minute he was not at home.
When did that thought pop in his head?
“Please “she interrupted him, “I want you to be comfortable.”
She turned to the small kitchen rummaging for something to offer him.
He frowned. He had looked earlier, she really had very little.
She returned to him holding out two tangerines in a small bowl, plopping down on the loveseat. He took them both and sat in the floor at her feet.
He pulled a small waste basket over to him and started to peel them for her.
“Jungkook, you don’t have to sit on the floor,” she started.
But he just shook his head. “I usually do! I don’t know why, just comfortable I guess.”
As he finished peeling the fruit, he broke off pieces to share. As his fingers touched hers, he smiled.
“Lyra, I like your place. I feel….at home here,” he told her. As they shared the food, he told her about the different apartments he had lived in since leaving home.
He was rambling really, his nerves starting to show.
She was watching his face as he talked, not listening so much as to what he said, but how open he was, how relaxed. She envied him that.
As they finished the fruit, he bounced up to put the bowl away and rinse his hands.
As he returned, he saw her wincing as she tried to undo the ties of her shoes.
He hurried back to his seat on the floor and took one foot in his hands. She started to protest, but he hushed her, saying “it’s my fault you danced so much, let me help.
He unbuckled the shoe, the ribbons already fluttering loose from her efforts, and gently removed it and set it aside.
His hands worked the aching muscles in her foot and she groaned in pleasure. He looked at the small foot in his hand and noticed her arch, noted the way her feet, her toes, were formed. He was right, she had trained as a dancer.
His mind busy with that train of thought, he put that foot down and took up the other.
His hands fell to the black bow wrapped around her ankle. He slid loose the ends, then his eyes involuntarily rose to the ribbon at her throat.
It had taunted him all night, both innocent and tempting. He swallowed hard, the thought that bow was his next target crossing his mind.
He glanced at Lyra to see her reaction, a hint of guilt in his eyes.
She smiled at him, her color high, bliss from his work on her aching feet plain on her face.
Without thinking he slid one hand up to her calf, kneading the muscles there, feeling the silk of her skin in his hands.
He felt his body begin to respond, wanting his hands to caress her freely.
Lyra felt his hand slip up her skirt and was shocked at how swiftly she reacted to it. Her body was aching for him to continue, to slide further, to warm her with those large hands.
She blushed and moved just a bit, just enough for JK to know she was as affected as he was.
He kept his hands on her legs, but tried desperately to find conversation that would help him concentrate on something other than the ache that was building in him.
“Lyra, what is this furniture? I have never seen anything like it.” He asked.
He watched as she began to talk, fascinated at the passion in her voice as she told him about her projects, the process, the selection of materials.
He realized all this was coming from her heart. This was her art, her escape.
He watched and listened, swept up in her passion, his hands now slowly caressing her calves and knees, then gently resting on her thigh.
Her eyes were shining, her passion clear and he stopped for a moment and wished all that was his.
That flush, that excitement, the breathless words, he wanted to be the reason her breath quickened.
Lyra watched his face as she talked. He was listening to her, not just to her, but to her heart. She felt so close to him just then.
She wanted to share everything with him. She wanted to tell him.
“Jungkook,” she whispered, gathering courage, “I need to tell you something.”
