𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜
“You scare me too, but in a good way.”
Her apartment was a reflection of the woman Luke couldn’t get out of his head: organized, charming, and with a hint of quiet personality. It was nighttime in Newark, the sound of the city echoing softly through the half-open windows. They had planned to watch a documentary about players from the 90s—something casual, with no intentions. But everything between them carried something more, even when they tried to pretend it didn’t.
She wore an oversized Devils t-shirt and gray sweatpants, hair tied up loosely, bare feet resting on the couch. Luke was sprawled beside her, a little too close for someone who was just a “frequent interviewee.” And still, she didn’t move away.
He turned his head and watched her silently for a few seconds. There was a small wrinkle of concentration between her eyebrows—he loved that. The way she dove into everything, even a simple documentary. When she realized she was being watched, she gave a small smirk.
— “Are you going to stare at me all night or actually listen to what Brodeur is saying?”
— “I think I’ve memorized his lines already. I’d rather try to figure you out.”
She let out a short laugh, but her eyes didn’t laugh with her. He was getting good at noticing that.
— “Don’t start, Luke.”
— “Why not? Because I’m younger?”
She sighed, turning her eyes away from the TV.
— “Because I feel ridiculous. Eight years. It’s not a small gap.”
— “You feel ridiculous for making me want to be a better man?”
The silence between them thickened. She lowered her gaze, lightly biting the corner of her lip—a gesture Luke already recognized. She was about to give in, even if she fought it.
— “You scare me too,” she whispered. “But in a good way.”
He moved closer slowly, his hand gently touching her chin, lifting her face.
— “Then let me really scare you.”
And she let him.
**
It was a slow kiss. Nothing like the urgent kisses she remembered from her youth, driven by impulse. With Luke, it was different. There was intention in everything—in the lips that explored hers with care, in the tongue that met hers with tenderness and restrained desire. It was like he’d waited too long for that moment to ruin it with haste.
Her hand moved up to his chest, feeling the firm muscle under the black t-shirt. He came closer, until she felt the warmth of his body completely envelop her.
— “Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about this?” he murmured against her skin, now exploring her neck with kisses that made her fingers dig into his back. “How many nights I imagined what it would be like to touch you?”
She cupped his face in her hands, looking into his brown eyes with a new kind of glow.
— “Then show me.”
**
They went from the couch to the bedroom unhurried, but hungry. Luke took off her shirt slowly, like someone unwrapping an old, precious gift. His fingers slid along her skin as if memorizing the map of something sacred. He admired her. And she felt it in every touch.
— “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, as if he were seeing a woman’s body for the first time—not in the physical sense, but in the weight of her vulnerability. She was real. Whole. Self-possessed. And still, she was there with him.
His clothes soon fell to the floor. When she pulled him onto the bed, Luke lay between her thighs, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time. Their bodies fit together naturally. He didn’t rush to enter—he wanted to tease, to explore. His hand roamed her curves, the touch firm yet gentle. His fingers found her center, and the way she moaned, biting her lip, was more than encouragement.
He leaned in to kiss her breasts, then her stomach, then the inside of her thighs. When he finally tasted her with his mouth, her body arched, fingers burying in his brown hair, pulling hard. Luke was intense. He knew what he was doing. And he did it with pleasure.
When he came back up, lips still wet, she kissed him hard, almost desperately.
— “You make me… lose myself,” she confessed between quick breaths.
He entered her slowly, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time. She let out a low moan, and Luke growled against her mouth.
— “I want to feel all of you.”
The movements started slow, deep. They touched each other as if they were learning to love for the first time. She moaned his name like a prayer. He held her like she might disappear. And every time their hips met, it was like the world outside faded away.
Luke rested his forehead against hers as their bodies moved together, breathless, sweaty.
— “You’re everything I never knew I needed,” he whispered. “Let me stay. Let me take care of you.”
She moaned in response, words slipping from her mind, only sensations remaining. Pleasure, heat, feeling. The climax came like a wave—her first, nails digging into his back; then him, panting against her neck, their bodies trembling together.
**
They stayed there afterward, bodies intertwined, silence filled with soft caresses and slowing breaths. She ran her fingers through his hair, and Luke traced imaginary lines on her bare skin.
— “You know this changes everything, right?” she said.
— “I hope so. Because I don’t want to be away from you anymore.”
She smiled, tired and happy.
— “You’re going to be trouble, kid.”
— “And you’re going to give me peace.”
**
The documentary still played on the TV, forgotten. But in that room, between sheets and truths whispered in the dark, a story began—one neither of them dared to deny anymore.
