Lucas’s hand on my belly slid a little lower, fingers brushing the top of my skirt. Not quite under it yet, but close. His thumb stroked slow circles against my skin, just above the waistband. “Keep squirming like that and I’m gonna have to do something about it,” he murmured, voice dark and teasing. “You feel how hard you’re making me? ”

I bit my lip, trying to stay still, but my body had other ideas. Another slow rock of my hips, and I felt him throb harder against me. The friction sent a spark of pleasure straight through my core. My cheeks burned hotter. I hated him for this—for...