No Ordinary Love (A Modern Vintage Romance #5)

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Amara

I t had been two exciting weeks—both professionally and personally.

From a work perspective, my teaching assistants and I were having a lot of fun working on the women's health advocacy project. I was learning a lot, and we were all excited to work on something that would have a direct application in the real world. As academics, sometimes the research we did was not translated into a benefit for a population, but this was different.

Personally, Lucas and I were back where we used to be when we initially started dating. I had told him to stop apologizing. Enough was enough. It was time to look forward. Basically, we were two people re-discovering each other with so much sexual tension that we were all but vibrating with it. But neither of us was ready to take that step. The last time we ended up in bed, it had only made things murkier.

Did I want him? Hell yeah . Did he want me? Undoubtedly .

We didn't go beyond kisses, though those got pretty heated. There was an almost innocent quality to this renewed relationship we were building.

"This is madness," I told him one night when we were necking in his car like teenagers.

One of his hands was kneading my breast, and the other was on my naked thigh under my dress.

"The best kind there is, Tesoro." He kissed me again, soft and sweet.

I kept waiting for his hand to move up, up, up until he was touching my core. I desperately wanted him, and I knew he did as well because when I cupped him, he was thick and hard.

"I'll come in my pants, Amara," he growled as he removed my hand.

"Don't you want me?" I asked, mindless with desire.

"More than I want to breathe." He peppered kisses along my jawline. "More than you can imagine."

"Then?" I angled my head so he could nibble on my neck and lick the throbbing pulse there.

"I love you," he whispered against my ear, making me shiver.

I stilled.

He raised his head; his eyes sad. "When you can say it back to me, I promise to fuck you so hard and long that you won't be able to walk the next day."

I licked my lips, wanting to tell him whatever he wanted so he'd fuck me exactly the way he said he would.

But I'd decided to be honest with myself and with Lucas; to not hide how I felt and show him what was happening inside of me. "I'm scared."

He kissed my nose. "I know. I haven't earned your trust yet. But once I do, you won't be afraid to tell me you love me. And when that day comes, Tesoro..." He paused, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he fought to keep his emotions in check. "When that day comes, I'll be the luckiest man alive."

Every time we talked, I felt like I learned more about him, and I let him know me better. We'd been together for two years, but I felt that we had known each other inside a bubble where it was just us—but now we were seeing more of what was inside of us, what made us the people we were when we let the outside world in.

Lucas had become more open about his conversations with his family. He told me he'd had a showdown with Shelby and Flynn and several with Kath's father and his mother. His only saving grace was Rena, who was steadfast in wanting her grandson to make choices that were, as she put it, selfish and more power to him for doing that.

Working together had been interesting . We were excellent partners, sparred well, were respectful of each other, and wanted, very badly, to get into each other's pants.

"Good luck," Lucas whispered as I prepared to run a focus group. His eyes twinkled, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but we had an audience.

Dr. Brooks, Jill, Maury, and one of my teaching assistants were in the adjacent room—one of those sterile, windowless spaces typical of research facilities with a two-way mirror for observing the proceedings.

I entered the focus group room, where six doctors sat around a large oval table, each representing a different hospital or clinic across South Carolina. The group included obstetricians, family physicians, and maternal health specialists, all invited to share their experiences and challenges in communicating with pregnant women, particularly those from marginalized communities.

"Thank you all for being here today," I began, aiming to create a comfortable and safe space for discussion. "We're here to talk about the challenges in health communication, specifically in maternal care. Let's dive right in—what are the most significant barriers you face with your patients?"

Dr. Martinez, an obstetrician from a rural clinic, spoke up first. "Health literacy is a major issue. Many patients don't fully understand medical terminology, leading to confusion about their care plans. They're often afraid to ask questions, fearing they'll seem ignorant, which only worsens the problem."

Dr. Flynn, a family physician from Charleston, nodded. "Cultural barriers are also challenging. In some communities, deeply ingrained beliefs about pregnancy and childbirth conflict with modern medical practices."

Dr. Nguyen, a maternal health specialist from Chapel Hill, added, "Building trust is another hurdle. Many women, especially from underserved communities, have had negative experiences with the healthcare system."

I nodded, absorbing their insights. These were precisely the kinds of challenges we needed to address in our project—how to bridge the gap between medical professionals and the women who needed their care the most.

"This is all incredibly valuable feedback." I made notes as I spoke. "It sounds like we need to focus not just on simplifying language but also on developing culturally sensitive communication strategies and building trust within these communities. Are there specific approaches any of you have found helpful in overcoming these barriers?"

The doctors exchanged ideas, discussing strategies like using visual aids, involving community leaders in health education, and spending more time in consultations to build rapport.

After about an hour, the session wrapped up, and I thanked the participants for their time and input. As they filed out, I gathered my notes and went into the adjoining observation room. My eyes landed on Lucas, and for a moment, the professional mask I'd been wearing slipped. I felt a flutter of emotions, which I recognized as butterflies in my stomach.

"Amara, that was excellent. You handled the discussion with such ease. We got some really valuable insights," Jill exclaimed.

"Great work," Dr. Brooks interjected sincerely.

"Thank you," I replied, still aware of Lucas's presence, even as I focused on Dr. Brooks. "The doctors were really open about their challenges. I think we have a lot to work with."

Jill nodded enthusiastically. "You did a fantastic job guiding the conversation."

I smiled, but before I could respond, Lucas stepped forward. "Amara, that was impressive. You have a way of getting people to open up to talk about the real issues. It's not something everyone can do."

His compliment made me blush and my heart did that ridiculous fluttering thing again. "Thanks, Lucas."

He nodded, his eyes holding mine for a beat longer than necessary. I had to tell him to stop looking at me like he wanted to devour me. Probably everyone could see how we were eye-fucking each other.

"We should reconvene Monday to go over the next steps," Dr. Brooks suggested, glancing between us. "There's a lot to unpack from today's session."

"Agreed." I faced her, grateful for the distraction. "I'll go through my notes tonight and have a report out ready for our next meeting."

After a few more pleasantries, Jill and Dr. Brooks left, as did my TA, leaving me alone with Lucas in the dimly lit observation room.

"Stop it," I murmured.

"You were amazing in there. I don't think I've ever been aroused watching a focus group before."

I crossed my arms and leaned back against a wall, trying to seem casual, even though my pulse was racing. "How aroused?" I challenged.

He came up to me and stood close enough so I could smell his cologne. It was naughty to flirt like this at work, and my panties were soaked.

"Hard as a stone." He took my hand and put it on his erection.

I whimpered, feeling his desire.

"Lucas."

His hips pushed against my hand, and he closed his eyes for a moment. He smiled sheepishly, brought my hand to his mouth, and kissed my palm. "I miss fucking you, Amara."

His words and the edge in his voice had me wanting to go on my knees and suck him off.

He could see it in my eyes, and he groaned softly. "I skipped lunch. How about an early dinner?"

"Yes." And then will you come to my bed and make love to me?

"What are you thinking?" he inquired curiously.

I blushed. "You don't want to know."

"I do, baby. Tell me." His voice was husky, seductive.

"Will you come home with me tonight?"

He took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Will you sleep with me?"

"Yes."

"But you won't have sex with me." I could see the determination on his face.

"I love you, Amara." There was longing in his voice, and I didn't know what I was waiting for. The man had apologized. He had shown me who he was, yet I was unable to give him the words he needed.

"How does Italian sound for dinner?" I breathed.

"Sounds perfect."

He didn't push me. He didn't ask for more than I could give. This was a big step for Lucas—taking it slow, not bulldozing his way in, which was usually his style when he wanted something. And I had no doubt he wanted me; no man would put up with my bullshit if he didn't.

But it isn't bullshit, Amara. You're protecting yourself. Stop feeling guilty about taking care of yourself.

We ended up at Le Farfalle, another old favorite of ours. It was elegant without being pretentious. Familiar scents of garlic, fresh basil, and roasted tomatoes mingled in the air, accompanied by the soft notes of jazz playing in the background.

Lucas ordered a bottle of a deep and earthy Super Tuscan wine. As our glasses were filled, I realized how long it had been since we'd done this—just sat together, enjoying each other's company without expectations or unresolved feelings pressuring us.

"Here's looking at you, Tesoro. " Lucas lifted his glass to me.

"We'll always have Charleston," I remarked and touched my glass to his. "This is fun. Being with you is…nice."

"I feel the same." I drank some wine and looked at him tentatively.

"What?" he sighed.

"I have a question."

"Okay."

"You said that you enjoyed our sex life the last time we…you know…."

"Ended up in bed together?"

"Yeah."

"Our sex life…our life in general was great, Amara. I just didn't know how to navigate my family. You can't imagine how sorry I—"

"No more apologies," I admonished. "We're done apologizing to each other. I wanted to know if you ever felt we were not adventurous enough."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "You're doing this to arouse me and make me lose control, aren't you?"

I pulled back and gave him my most innocent look. "No. I'm genuinely curious." I paused and winked at him. "The losing control part is a side benefit."

He sipped his wine, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'd love to fuck you in public sometime where we're worried someone would catch us. Like…in the bathroom of a restaurant."

I swallowed.

"Or in your office at the college or mine. We'd have to be very quiet. You get noisy, so," he dropped his voice and leaned closer, "you'll have to be silent when I'm inside you. I'll slide a finger inside your ass, the way you like it, and pound into you."

Okay, so he was better at this than I was. I was being playful, and he just took it for a spin around the room.

Thankfully, the waiter showed up to take our orders.

"I've missed this ," he told me. "Just being with you, talking."

"Without arguing," I agreed. "Or being angry or hurt or guilty."

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a little thrill through me. "But we are horny."

"Speak for yourself." I raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile.

" Tesoro , I can smell how wet you are, and if I slipped a hand up your silky thighs and touched your pussy," he crooned, leaning back in his chair, his expression heated, "you'd come in seconds."

He was right about that. To cool myself down, I drank some water.

"We're driving each other a little nuts, aren't we?"

"Yeah, baby, we are, and it feels damn good…even if it is frustrating, and my hand is getting tired of jacking me off while I think of you on your knees."

The waiter brought our food: pumpkin ravioli with shaved truffles for me and pasta vongole for Lucas.

"So, tell me," I shifted gears, "what's your honest take on how the focus group went today?"

"You think I wasn't being honest when I said how amazing you were?" he shot back.

"I believe you. My question is centered around what you thought about the content of our discussion."

"The doctors had a lot of valuable insights, stuff that I haven't ever given much consideration to. Opened my eyes to the difficulties and challenges that they face on a daily basis, making it harder for them to take care of their patients."

"I agree. Based on the next two focus groups and the qualitative research we do, I think we'll be ready to run a survey next month," I told him. "Then we'll have all the data we need to start analyzing, which you know is my favorite part."

"I love how passionate you are about your work. It's one of the things I've always admired about you—you care so much about what you do. It's inspiring."

I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, but I kept my tone light. "Thanks, Lucas. It means a lot to hear you say that."

Our conversation flowed easily, moving from work to lighter topics—funny stories about our colleagues and little anecdotes from our day-to-day lives. There was no tension, no undercurrent of unresolved issues. It was just… us —not like we used to be, but… better . Much better!

Lucas told me about a project he was working on at LPC—a new initiative to introduce sustainable practices to some of their older operations.

His eyes lit up as he spoke, the passion in his voice reminding me of the man I'd fallen for, the one who could make even the most mundane topic sound fascinating.

"That sounds incredible." I was genuinely impressed. "I know sustainability has not been top of mind for you before."

"I know," he admitted. "But I was working to grow the company and didn't want to deal with the green agenda, so to speak. Now, I wish I'd started earlier. Our sustainability initiatives are going to only benefit the company."

"I'm proud of you, Lucas; I always have been."

He smiled a little sheepishly, and I realized how much I'd missed this—seeing him like this, open and genuine, without the walls we'd both put up over the past few months.

After dinner, when we stepped out into the cool Charleston night of early November, Lucas reached for my hand. His touch was warm and familiar, and I didn't want to let him go.