An Echo in the Mafia (Echo Reid, Reid Family Book #1)

First Times

Echo stood holding the towel out to him, trying to ignore the faint smirk that began to spread over Luke's face. She wasn't trembling, she hadn't trembled since the first time and she wasn't the least bit afraid of all the things Luke made her feel when he made love to her.  She faced him straight on, that same unwavering gaze, looking absolutely fearless as she held the towel out to him despite the deep red that now swept across her cheeks and chest. 

She was blushing. She was determined to be bold and brave, but even as she jutted her chin up and faced him, trying her best to look undaunted, she could not stop it.  The very sight of Luke's eyes slowly, languidly, making their way over her was... disarming. He made no effort to reach for the towel, no movement except for the subtle tensing of his muscles as he took a breath.  How she admired every last bit of him. Tall, lean, sinewy, graceful... oh yes, Luke was so graceful. His body was a thing of beauty, even those scars that stood out along his shoulder and back.  She could watch him for hours. No, she could watch him endlessly, she would watch him endlessly.  Especially now, as his eyes continued to scan her slowly, the water dripping off his lashes and down his cheeks. She watched the droplets pool onto his cupid's bow before sliding down across those lips that now smiled brightly at her...

He'd seen it, the way her eyes were now glazed over as she ran them over his lips.  But it wasn't the eyes that had him practically frozen in place, that made it impossible for him to reach out for the towel she still held in her slender hands. No, what had his full attention was the satin and lace that thinly veiled the gentle curves and pretty skin he loved.  She'd never worn anything like that before, in fact, any time he so much as teased her about it she'd swear up and down that she'd never wear anything like it. 

Not that he really minded. There was something infinitely alluring about Echo in her typical sweatpants and tee ensemble, a favorite of hers for sleeping. Although, the reality was that, more often than not, Echo didn't sleep in much but Luke's arms. He never pressured her over it either, never expected her to wear anything like this but now that he saw it- the lace just barely covering a rose tipped breast, the freckle he paid tribute to daily just peeking out at him- it was hard to look away. 

Then, when he would have reached out, he was almost surprised to see that she did. Echo took a step towards him, then another, closing the gap and gently patting his neck with the towel. He was still, watching her in silent contentment as she began to wipe away the water at his temples.  Echo tried to suppress the shiver that traveled down her spine as she felt Luke's breath on her neck. He leaned in close, inhaling deeply, enjoying her scent. 

She looked up, their eyes meeting briefly before hers once again dropped to his lips. Without a word, she placed her free hand on his shoulder and pulled herself up, flicking her tongue across his lips. His little Echo was much more bold than most people thought, especially when it came to him. 

He reached out, placing his hands at the nape of her neck to hold her in place, both thumbs now stroking her jaw line. It was Echo who smirked now, Echo who knew exactly what she'd started and Echo who watched him knowing what it was he wanted now... exactly what she wanted.  

"I like this..." He said softly, loosening his grip and sliding one hand along her shoulder. He slipped a finger beneath the lace strap, playing with it carelessly for several seconds before letting it slide off her shoulder, his gaze following his hand as he did so. 

"I like you." She managed to say breathlessly and he snapped his gaze right back to her face. The smirk was back on his lips and before she could fully recover from the sight of it, he'd crashed his lips down on hers. 

The towel dropped, slipping out of her hand as she tangled her fingers in his hair, afraid to release him. Not that he'd let her, he'd already wrapped one arm so tight around her, the heat from it seared straight through the satin and onto her skin.  His hands were so hot, she could swear that he'd leave a mark. So many time she'd touched her own skin, over and over, wondering how he could make her feel like she was on literal fire and not leave any marks?