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Back The Lucky Escape Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR LAURA JANE WILLIAMS
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. Epilogue
  51. Acknowledgements
  52. Publishing Credits
  53. Keep Reading …
  54. About the Author
  55. Fiction by the same author
  56. About the Publisher

My hunger for it made every second feel decades long. It could only have taken moments to reach into my bag, to pull out the key, to hit it against the security box and hear the roar of the pulley lifting us towards the thirty-sixth floor, and yet it took hours, days, millennia. I set my bag down on the sofa in the central living room and pulled my water bottle out. I chugged it down, but it didn’t satisfy my thirst. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand I knew what I was going to do next.

Patrick watched me. I stood, and let him. I smiled. I refused to look away, or be shy.

I wanted him. I had done for probably longer than I’d realized.

‘I’m going to kiss you now,’ I said, putting the cap back on the water bottle. ‘Is that okay?’

It was three steps.

My heart thudded in my chest.

One step.

Thud.

Two steps.

Thud.

Three steps.

Thud.

I put a hand up to his face. I didn’t want to rush. I didn’t want to launch at him. I didn’t want to take any of this for granted. I wanted to mean it. I wanted to remember it.

I looked into his eyes. He was serious and solemn. I ran my thumb over his lips and then leaned towards him, on purpose this time, lingering for one last moment right before my mouth met his.

25

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made out with someone. Why did that ever stop? Why do we have so much focus on kissing having to give way to getting naked when there’s so much joy, and heat, and passion in kissing over and over, speeding up and slowing down, just being together?

‘I need to take this slow,’ he breathed into my mouth, and I immediately understood: he hasn’t had sex since his wife died.

‘I want to take it slow too,’ I reassured him. I hadn’t been with anybody but Alexander in a decade so it was all new to me, too. All new proportions and lines and motions. ‘I’d like that.’

I could feel him bulging through his shorts. He lifted me up onto the counter of the small kitchenette and my legs were parted so he could stand between them. I pushed my crotch to his because I couldn’t help but arch my back to feel him, but everything else stayed strictly PG, even though the pulsing in my underwear was rated 18.