With Me in Seattle Bundle One

by Kristen Proby

  Baby? Baby! Am I okay with him calling me baby? He guides me into the seat, slams the door and runs to the driver side. He looks over at me, his hair and shirt soaked, breathing hard, his beautiful blue eyes full of humor.

  Oh yes. I’m fine with it.

  “Let’s get you home and dry.” He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, toward the freeway.

  “So, tell me more about yourself.” Luke merges onto the freeway and glances over at me.

  “What do you want to know?” I ask.

  “Favorite music?”

  “Maroon 5,” I respond easily.

  “Favorite movie?” he asks with a grin.

  “Hmm…we’ve had this conversation.” I laugh. “I still like The Way We Were.”

  “Ah yes, you’re a Robert Redford fan.” He kisses my hand, and I sigh.

  “I am.”

  “First boyfriend?” His eyes turn nervously to mine again, and I freeze. How do I answer this question?

  “You know, I don’t do this.” I turn in the seat to face him.

  He glances at me, then back at the road. “Do what?”

  I shrug, trying to find the words and wondering why I feel the need to explain myself.

  “Hey.” He links his fingers with mine and kisses my hand before resting them both in his lap. “What is it?”

  “I don’t usually spend much time with men. I don’t make out. I don’t share meals. I don’t spend time playing the twenty questions game. I just…don’t.” This is coming out so wrong!

  He gazes at me again, surprised.

  “Okay, what do you do with men?” He squirms in his seat, and I think he’s mad.

  “I fuck them.” There. It’s out there.

  “What?” Oh yeah… I think he’s really mad.

  “Luke, I don’t date.” Oh, how do I explain this? I have never wanted to date anyone before. Before him.

  “Are you brushing me off?” His voice is incredulous, and he lets go of my hand.

  “No!” I close my eyes and shake my head. “Before I met you, I mean. I just don’t want you to think that I’m promiscuous or that I go out with guys into the woods after knowing them for less than two days.”

  “But you fuck them,” he snarls.

  “Well, I used to.” I turn back in the seat and stare out the windshield. “Before my parents died…”

  He grabs my hand again, and I whip my head back to him, surprised.

  “Go on.”

  “Before they died, when I was in college, I didn’t think much of myself. And, therefore, neither did anyone else. I didn’t date as a choice, Luke. But sex was something I understood. I’ve never wanted to feel anything else for a man.” I swallow hard and close my eyes in shame.

  “Did something happen to you to make you feel like that?” His voice is dead calm. Too calm.

  “Umm…” I’ve never told anyone this. Except Jules.

  “Look, Nat, I feel something here, too, and you can bet your sweet, beautiful ass that I’m going to make love to you tonight. I’m not going to fuck you. So I think it’s pretty important that we’re honest with each other now. No surprises.” His handsome face is so sincere, and sweet.

  “Last night you said you wanted to fuck me.”

  “I did. I do. And I will. But not tonight.”

  “Oh,” I breathe.

  “Yeah. So, what happened, baby?”

  I pull my hand out of his and twist my fingers in my lap. Luke changes lanes, and I try to gather my thoughts. Oh, this hurts.

  “When I was seventeen, I dated a guy for a few months who I thought was pretty nice. I was a virgin, which he would tease me about, but I didn’t care. I was only seventeen, for Christ sake.

  “Well, long story short, he took things too far one night. We were at my house. My parents were at some party, and we were alone, and he…” I stop talking and look out the window, not seeing the buildings and trees, swamped in shame.

  “He raped me.”

  Luke inhales sharply, his face contorted in anger. “Motherfucker.”

  “That’s not even the worst part.” I laugh mirthlessly with the memory.

  “This isn’t fucking funny.” He’s glaring at me now, and my face sobers.

  “Trust me, I know.” I swallow. “You’re very sweary.”

  “You haven’t heard sweary yet. What happened next?”

  “My parents came home.” It’s a whispered confession. Again, Luke inhales loudly.

  “My dad almost killed him. The cops were called. He was punished. His dad was a senator, so along with the legal crap, my parents sued his parents and won. My dad was a very high-profile lawyer. I have quite a large trust fund from the lawsuit, which will never be touched by me. I don’t need it. My parents made sure I was very well taken care of, and I don’t want it anyway.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a long time. He just drives and seems completely lost in thought.

  “So,” I interrupt the silence, “that’s why I had so many issues with guys in college. It took a few years of counseling and my parents’ deaths to wake me up and pull me out of some destructive behavior.”

  “Tattoos?” he asks.

  “No, ironically, the tattoos had nothing to do with my past, and everything to do with healing.”

  He still won’t look at me. Fuck, it was too soon!

  “Hey.” I grab his hand in mine. “I know that was a lot to dump on you, and we just met. If you’d rather just drop me off at home and cut our losses, I understand.”

  “No, Natalie, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He squeezes my fingers in his, and the relief I feel is incredible.

  “You seem a little quiet.”

  “I don’t honestly know what to say.” He frowns and glances at me.

  “I just…” I pause to collect my thoughts. “I feel this heading somewhere intimate, and I thought you should know.” The last two words are a whisper.

  “You’ve never dated anyone, ever?”

  I shake my head.

  “Honey, we have a lot of catching up to do.” His voice is tender again, and I feel hope slowly spread through me.

  “We do?”

  “Oh yeah. I have one question, though.”

  “Okay.”

  “Where is that fucker?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because I’m going to kill him.”

  I can’t believe he just said that! I chuckle softly. “No need. I’m sure he’s a miserable man, Luke.”

  “He should be in hell.”

  “He will be.” I grasp his hand tighter with mine. “Trust me, he’s not an issue anymore. My dad saved me.”

  “Thank God.” He kisses my knuckles, and I feel him start to relax beside me.

  Wow, I told him the worst, and he still wants to see me? How did I get so lucky?

  Luke pulls up in front of my house and turns off the car. He opens my door for me and lifts my camera bag out of the back, following me to the house. I unlock the door and motion for him to come inside.

  “Jules!” I call out for my roommate, but the house feels empty.

  “I don’t think she’s here.” I smile at him and take my bag from him, setting it on the floor and my purse on the table. I take his keys from him and lay them on the table as well.

  “Can I show you around?” I suddenly feel shy.

  “Sure, after you.”

  I grasp his hand in mine. “Thank you for joining our tour today, Mr. Williams, we’re delighted to have you with us.”

  Luke laughs, a full-on belly laugh, and I feel my shyness melt away. “Oh, I do love your sense of humor, Natalie.”

  I pick my camera bag back up off the floor, and he raises a brow. “I’ll show you the studio and put this away too.”

  He nods, and I lead him through my house.

  “I see you have a great view, too.” He motions to the floor-to-ceiling windows off the great room, and I smile.

  “I do. This is obviously the living,
dining and kitchen.” I glance at the reds and browns of our couches, dark wood dining furniture, and the simple elegance of the kitchen.

  “Great kitchen.” He winks down at me.

  “Yes,” I reply, and he chuckles. “But I don’t cook much. Jules does a lot of the cooking.”

  “I’d love to cook for you here.” His gaze is bright.

  “I’d like that.” I feel my cheeks heat. “Okay, let’s go out to the studio, then I’ll show you around upstairs.”

  “Out?”

  “Yeah, I converted the guesthouse into a studio. It’s my favorite part of the house. Come on.”

  I lead him out the sliding glass doors, across the backyard to the studio. I pause at the door and look up at him speculatively.

  “What is it?” he asks, curiosity written across his face.

  “Don’t freak out on me, okay?”

  “Why would I freak out?”

  “Well, I told you I don’t do traditional portraiture.” I bite my lip.

  “Baby, after our conversation earlier and the way I feel about you right now, I guarantee I will not freak out.”

  I watch his face and see that he means it and turn to unlock the door.

  Here goes nothing.

  I walk in ahead of him and put my bag on the floor. I switch on the lights, and Luke follows me inside. He stops just inside the threshold, his jaw dropped, his eyes wide, taking in my studio.

  I turn and look with him. There is a king-size bed in one corner with white sheets draped over the canopy, ready for tomorrow’s session. There are more floor-to-ceiling windows—perfect lighting!—across the room. I have racks of lingerie, corsets, boas, shoes, and other props. But what he seems to be focused on are the canvas photos hanging around the room.

  He walks over to one and gazes at the couple in the throes of passion. It’s in black and white, a side view of a couple lying on my king-size bed. The man is on top, braced over her, his mouth on her breast. Her head is thrown back, her mouth open, her leg wrapped around his hip, and her foot resting on the back of his thigh.

  It’s an erotic, intimate photo, and one of my favorites.

  Luke turns in a circle, taking in all of the art on my walls, some of women or men in provocative poses, most of couples in different sexual positions. Finally, his eyes find mine.

  “This is what I do,” I whisper.

  “Natalie”—he swallows and looks at my favorite photo again—“this is incredible.”

  “Really?”

  He nods, his eyes wide. “Yeah, it’s amazing. Sexy as hell. How did you get into this?”

  I can’t stop the smile on my face. “In college. Girls wanted me to take boudoir photos of them for their boyfriends, so I set up a makeshift studio in my apartment and started the business there.”

  “And the couples?”

  “That sort of evolved. Most of them are return customers. The boyfriends or husbands loved the photos of their girls, and they wanted intimate photos of them as a couple.”

  “It’s not porn.” I just want that clarified and watch his face.

  He frowns. “Baby, this is art. It’s definitely not porn.”

  I smile, relieved. “There’s a bedroom that I use to store props and furniture in for various shoots, and I use the kitchen to store refreshments for the clients. Sometimes, the girls like to have photos taken in there, too. It’s fun.”

  He walks over to me, cups my cheek in his palm and kisses me softly. “You’re amazingly talented.”

  Wow.

  “Thank you. And for the record, I don’t ever have sex in here. Ever.”

  His eyes dance with mischief. “Is that a challenge?”

  “No, it’s a fact.”

  “Why?”

  “Because these aren’t my memories. They’re my clients’.”

  “So, you don’t bring men in here?”

  “Just you, handsome.” I smile shyly.

  “Good to know.”

  “Actually,” I continue, looking him square in his bright blue eyes. “I’ve never invited a man to my home before.”

  His eyes widen, and he inhales deeply. “Your bed?”

  “Just me.”

  “That’s about to change.” He grasps my hand and pulls me out of the studio, slamming the door behind us, leading me back into the house.

  “Where is your bedroom?”

  Chapter Seven

  Holy hell, he’s a man on a mission.

  Luke is dragging me through the house, breathing hard, his eyes feral.

  “Your bedroom?” he repeats, and I point up the stairs, unable to articulate words.

  I don’t remember my own name! And he hasn’t even touched me.

  Wow.

  As he pulls me up the stairs, I get a great view of his tight ass, and my stomach clenches.

  “To the right,” I finally find my voice, and he pulls me into my bedroom, shuts and locks the door, and pulls me to him.

  There’s still plenty of light coming in the windows off the blue waters of the sound, and for just a moment I stand with his arms around my waist, my hands on his broad shoulders, and drink in the sight of his beautiful face.

  “You’re so handsome,” I whisper.

  He grins at me and leans down to nuzzle my neck, gently walking me backward to the bed. Thank God I made it this morning!

  I’m expecting him to push me back onto the bed, but instead he steps back from me, not touching me at all, and his burning eyes run up and down my body, finally landing on my eyes.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  What? “Are you having doubts?”

  “Hell, no, I just want to make sure this is what you want, baby. If you say no, that’s fine, but please, God, don’t say no.”

  Oh wow. He’s giving me control, and I don’t know if it’s because of what I told him in the car, or if he’s just being chivalrous, and frankly, I don’t care. This is my choice.

  He is my choice.

  Staring him square in the eye, I say with a surprisingly sure voice, “Luke, please get us naked and make love to me.”

  He smiles, that huge, heart-stopping smile, and whips his T-shirt over his head.

  Whoa!

  He’s all lean muscle and broad shoulders. His stomach is sculpted, with those incredibly sexy lines that run down the hips and to his cock. His arms are muscular…he’s just so…strong.

  I raise my hand to touch him, but he shakes his head, still smiling. “If you touch me, this will go much faster than either of us wants.”

  Oh. “We have all night.”

  “And we’ll be taking advantage of it, baby, trust me. But this first time is going to be special.”

  I start to take my shirt off, and he stops me. “I’d like to do that.”

  “Well, then, hurry up!” I hear the whine in my voice but can’t stop it, and I can’t help but laugh with him.

  “My pleasure.” He shucks his shorts and underwear in one fast movement, and suddenly I’m getting a front-row view of Luke in all his glory.

  He is simply a Greek god. His body is perfect in every way.

  And he wants me!

  He walks to me and grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. He runs his fingers under my bra straps and leans in to nibble on my neck, just under my earlobe.

  “Luke,” I murmur.

  “Easy, baby.” He reaches behind me, deftly unclasps my bra and peels it down my arms. He makes quick work of my shorts and panties, pushing his hands between the fabric and my ass, cupping it, then slowly gliding them down my legs.

  Oh, he’s good with his hands!

  He stands back up and lifts me, and suddenly I’m cradled in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he kisses my lips softly as he lowers me onto the bed.

  “Sweet Jesus, you’re beautiful, Nat.” He whispers this against my throat, and I can do nothing but close my eyes and grip the blanket beneath me.

  “Let’s find those tattoos.”

  I smile as he
kisses and licks his way down to my breasts, then gasp as he tugs one nipple firmly into his mouth and laves it with his expert tongue. Lightning shoots straight to my groin, and my hips start to shimmy of their own accord. I moan his name and twist his soft blond hair in my fingers.

  “Hush, baby.” He runs his hand down the opposite breast and tweaks it with his thumb.

  “Oh God!”

  My body’s response to him is overwhelming.

  I feel him smile against my skin, and he moves down, suddenly rolling me onto my right side. “What have we here?”

  “Perhaps another tattoo?” My voice cracks as he runs his hand from my left hip to my shoulder.

  “What does it say, baby?”

  It’s script, as are all of my tats, that runs up my ribs, but I’m too busy trying to remember to breathe to talk.

  “Natalie, what does it say?” He kisses each letter gently, arms wrapped around my hips, braced on his elbows.

  “It says, Be happy for this moment.” I groan and continue. “This moment is your life.”

  “In what language?” His finger is rubbing it now. Oh wow.

  “Sanskrit.”

  “Mmm…turn onto your stomach.”

  I oblige and groan as he kisses my shoulder, over to my spine and starts working his way down, down, down.

  “God, your mouth feels good,” I groan, and I feel him smile against my sensitive skin.

  “And this?” He nibbles between my shoulder blades.

  “It’s Greek.”

  “What does it say, beautiful?” Oh God, his hands are just everywhere. My skin is on fire, and he wants me to talk?

  “Love deeply.”

  “You’re so fucking sexy, Nat.”

  “You’re making me feel pretty fucking sexy, Luke.”

  He nibbles his way down to my lower back.

  “No tramp stamp?” I hear his smile.

  “Hell, no,” I respond.

  He plants open-mouth, wet kisses on my left buttock, then my right, and then I hear his breath catch.

  “Christ, baby.”

  He nibbles my upper thigh, just under my right buttock, and I about come up off the bed.

  “Easy. What’s this one?”

  I smile. “A tattoo.”

  “Oh, you are a smart-ass.” He slaps me on the ass, hard, and I gasp.