Chapter 12: Iris: Kisses and comforting hugs

I'VE CRIED liters of tears by now, and my eyes feel itchy. Lucas' shirt is drenched. I've been crying on his chest ever since he hugged me outside my home, and he hasn't let go of me since.

I never realized just how much I needed this until it happened, and now I don't think I can ever go back to crying alone without someone to pat my shoulder or kiss the crown of my head gently every minute.

After telling him I wanted to be away from home for a while, Lucas gave me a list of places he could take me to choose from: Jerald's pub, the Adams sibling's house (I was shocked to know he has the keys), some fancy sounding restaurant, a golf course, and his house.

I chose his house. More of why later, but after he hugged me earlier—I knew I wanted more of his comfort.

That's how we ended up here, sitting on his couch with my head resting on his chest. His hands are brushing my back lightly, a soft motion that I find quite comforting.

He hasn't asked anything yet, just sitting there offering me silent support. It's comforting. However, my legs are beginning to feel numb from sitting in one position for an hour now.

Placing my hand on his chest, I pull away from him. My palm rests on the tear-soaked area, my eyes immediately growing wide when I see the makeup smudged on his t-shirt.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry for this," I quip my hands dramatically searching for somewhere to touch.

"It's okay. I can always change the shirt."

"But—"

"The most important thing right now is your mental health, Iris. You can thank me by being alright," Lucas hushes me in a comforting low tone.

He smiles at me, cupping my cheeks and brushing them with his thumb. I nuzzle into his palm, letting the warmness emitting from his hands seep into my entire body. It feels good, and I don't want him to stop.

"Come here," Lucas whispers tugging my arm, and the next moment I'm straddling his lap and facing him. He places a couch pillow between us so that I don't make contact with his damp shirt, then proceeds to make my head rest on his chest.

My hands snake their way around his waist and I get comfortable. This feels too good to be real. Annoyingly good.

"You're not going to ask why I'm crying," I ask after getting too comfortable on his squishy chest. The hard yet cushiony feeling is unexplainable.

Lucas gnaws at his lower lip, staring at the wall anxiously as if it has the answer he is looking for. "I want to, but I'm afraid it's too sensitive, and you're going to hate me for asking."

"Why would I hate you when you just helped me calm down? I even soiled your fuckin shirt dammit. I mean, look at it," I mumble pulling away so he can take a peek.

A laugh escapes from him, " So this is what your painted side profile looks like."

I hit him playfully on the chest.

"What? It's cute."

Giving the damn thing a second glance, a laugh bubbles from within and escapes my mouth before I can clasp it.

"See, even you think it cute."

I laugh. Hard. It's clinical and refreshing, a breather that makes me feel alive again.

"Now this is what I like seeing every day. A smiling Iris."

My laugh turns into a giggle, and now I'm blushing.

"You look so beautiful when you smile," Lucas says in a low husky tone. Goosebumps appear all around my body, and my heart flips around as my body heats up.

It's the stuff I've only ever read about in books. Stuff that makes me turn to mush at 2am in bed. Stuff that makes me want to become the best author and editor I can be—and I'm experiencing it all firsthand.

His hands cup my cheeks again as his thumb finds its way right below what I presume is now my puffy eye bags. He rubs them lightly as if wiping away tears, a soft empathetic look gleaming in his eyes.

"If you ever feel like talking, you're free to come back here. I can be anything you want me to be when that time comes—your boss, your friend...or your boyfriend. Just don't suffer alone again."

Damnit. I thought I was done crying.

"Thank you," I whisper, barely able to contain my shaky voice.

Lucas pulls my head to his lips and plants a fat kiss there. "It's okay, baby. Just rest up today and don't think about anything else, okay?"

I hug Lucas again, hiding my face from him and desperately searching for more of this warmness filling my chest—but it's not enough.

I want more.

Wriggling my way closer to him, I pull him to me, but it still feels like something is lacking.

"Want me to sit up straight?" Lucas asks after registering my constant tugs and movements.

"Yes," I reply, shamelessly pulling away as he adjusts us on the cream couch. When I return to his chest though, I'm still lacking something.

Grabbing the pillow between us, I throw it on the far edge of the couch before pulling myself closer to him. It's a good thing I wore trousers today, they allow me to move freely without needing to adjust my clothing here and there.

I'm almost closer to his damp shirt when Lucas places the pillow between us again.

"Why?" I groan in a sulky voice, pouting at him as though his body belongs to me.

"My shirt is wet."

"That's not a problem I can't handle."

Before he says anything, I grab the pillow and throw it away again before pulling myself closer to him and finally feeling content after our bodies cling together as if they are magnets.

"Now I can relax," I mumble, smiling victoriously like an idiot. I'm too quick to speak though, because no sooner do the words leave my mouth, that I feel something poking my ass.

At first, I convince myself that it's my imagination, that I'm a shameless slut who can't sit on a guy's lap without getting dirty thoughts. But when the bump keeps increasing in size and length, I know better than to keep lying to myself.

I'm not a child. I know what this is.

Immediately sitting up straight, I pull away from the hard-on and look down, but Lucas grabs the damn pillow and covers himself before I can see his full length.

My eyes fly straight to his beet-red face, and he looks away.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hard?"

"Why would I do that?"

I shrug. "I don't know, because it's what boys do when they're hormy and alone with a girl in an empty room?"

A line appears on Lucas' forehead and he grips the cushion in his hands so hard, that the cloth lets out a strained screech. "I'm not a horn dog, Iris, and I never take advantage of anyone's weak moments. It pains me to think that's how you viewed me this entire time we were together," he huffs, letting out a defeated sigh that cracks something within my beating heart.

Sometimes I wonder if my brain and tongue aren't connected at all. I can't believe I just said that to the only person who was there at the right moment when I needed some comfort.

He is right, every time we were together, I only thought of him as some disgusting playboy jerk who loves fucking around and leaving broken hearts. I even compared him to that jerk from college.

Silly me.

I clasp my face, cursing at myself internally for asking such a stupid question. "Sorry about that."

"Apology not accepted," Lucas grumbles in a low childish voice and I can't help but gush at how cute he looks right now.

"Then how about I help you with this? Will that be enough?" I ask, my eyes lingering on the space covered by the pillow.

"No," he barks sharply, drawing my attention back to reality. "Not after what you just said. Besides, you are still grieving, and I don't want to feel like I'm using you."

Jeez. What was I thinking all along? This man is exactly like the boyfriends I read in books, except, he is real and I'm sitting on his lap.

I let out a shaky breath, doing my best to control my itchy body. Fuck what I said about waiting for him to make the first move, I want this to happen. Now.

"Then how about I put it this way...I want you to use this and fuck my problems away," I say jabbing at the pillow and watching his eyes darken with wanton, a flame only I can extinguish. It's searing my insides, burning every inch of my skin where we're making contact, and unlike before...I don't hide it.

"Are you sure about this?" Lucas finally asks after a long pause, his breath heavy.

"Yes. This is me using my side of the deal we made, so don't go back out on your word now."

A long silent pause filled with agonising patience follows. Then he stands, carrying me along with him as I wrap my legs around his waist.

"In that case, we'll do it in my room."

"Anywhere is fine," I mumble shyly and Lucas nods, before walking towards the stairs at the far end of his mansion.

It's fucking huge, with priceless paintings hanging in golden frames by the walls, placed in a systematic order that uncannily fits Lucas' image. Hints of cream and nude pink are everywhere—the tiles, the ceiling, the doors, and even the flower pots and vases filling every space in this edifice.

It's a beautiful modern glassy heaven that continues everywhere my eyes scan.

Lucas takes the first step on the ginormous spiral staircase rising to the high doomed cream ceiling, whose rose gold-creamy tiles plastered on the steps match the ornate gold iron banister that spirals along with the stairs, leaving me in awe.

It's as if we're ascending towards paradise—which in a sense is happening. Context matters.

We reach the top soon, and Lucas takes a sharp left turn, taking three or four rapid steps before grabbing my ass in one hand whilst the other opens his door. The next moment we enter his room.

It's dark inside. My body stills, and I grab onto his t-shirt like my life depends on it. I assume it's because his curtains are closed, but when he places me gently on his bed and I get a view of his wide floor-to-ceiling windows, I know it's noon.

It's fucking dark outside.

"Want me to turn on the lights?" Lucas asks after he feels me grab on tightly to his t-shirt.

He remembers.

"Don't leave me alone," I whisper to him.

A soft kiss lands on my lips before he leans in further across the bed and flicks a switch on his bed stand. The entire room is immediately filled with a dim sensual yellow light, making me ease my grip on him.

"I won't," he assures me before he's back on top of me, planting kisses all over me. My forehead, my nose, my lips, my chin, and my neck. He kisses me everywhere his lips can reach and I can't help but let out small soft breaths.

"Lucas."

"Yes, baby?"

I let out a low moan, "Stop teasing me and get on with it already."

He stops kissing my neck and looks me straight in the eyes, his face a few centimeters from mine. "Are you sure about this, Iris?" He asks with a serious expression on his face.

He means business. I clasp his face, pulling him into a desperate kiss and moaning into his mouth altogether. Then I pull away and wet my lips.

"I'm as sure as the time when I sent you the revised edition of this month's edited issue."

Lucas smirks at me before giving me a saucy wink and pulling away from me entirely. I already miss his huge body on top of mine.

His fingers find their way to my waist and he trails a line around my pants until he reaches the front, biting his bottom lip as if to control himself more than look seductive.

"Just remember to go easy on me," I quip when the realization of what I'm about to do dawns on me.

Lucas' eyes shift to mine. "I will try," he replies in a low husky serious tone before adding: "Now let's get rid of these pants."

★★★★★

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read