“Lucas,” he says sadly. “I didn’t realize your heart wasn’t in the game, son.”
My throat closes over with the foul taste of guilt. I look down at my lap, staring unseeingly at my fingers twisting around the drawstring on my pants.
If Dad lectures me about seeing things through and commitments, I don’t know what I’ll do. Admitting to him that his dream for me isn’t the same one I have is challenging enough. I haven’t told him what I want to study.
“I’m proud of you.”
A soft sound tears from my lungs as my attention snaps up. Dad comes around the desk to squeeze my shoulder. The build up of anxiety sputters out like a sieve at the relief those words bring.
“You’re—you are?”
“Of course. I’m proud you talked to me honestly. I always want you to follow your dreams and believe in yourself.”
I feel like I could float to the ceiling because of the weight lifted from my shoulders. All the time I’ve been worrying about the assumptions thrown at me from all sides seems silly now.
“Thanks, Dad.”
He gives my shoulder another squeeze and drops into his leather chair. He gathers his files with a thoughtful expression.
“Help me convince your mother to visit Seattle for a weekend. If you won’t be playing, she’ll be a tough cookie.” He strokes his gray stubbled chin. “It was going to be easier to frame it as a trip to visit you and cheer you on.”
My laugh echoes in the room. I’ve been anxious Dad would be weird about me having no interest in going to the same college he went to.
“That’s up to you. Just balance it with a cool date night and she’ll be down.” I scoop up my soggy cereal and head for the door. “Night, Dad. Good luck on your case stuff.”
Dad waves in acknowledgement as I slip out.
There’s a huge rush that comes with a positive outcome from a long-term worry that’s niggled at you. I can’t wipe off my stupid smile.
In my room, I abandon the cereal bowl on my desk and grab my sketchbook.
Now the only problem is I can’t make the excuse that everyone else is pressuring me to keep up with expectations.
I glance at the drawer where my application waits for me to submit it to the college of my dreams. I filled it out on a whim after spending hours virtually touring the campus and browsing the curriculum. Now that my chance to send in my portfolio is a reality, I have to decide if I want to stay in my uncomfortable comfort zone or not.
It’s up to me to dig up the courage to choose what I want to do. If I can do that, I’ll be who I am in my heart. The mask I constantly wear will fall away.
Twenty-Six
Gemma
A couple of weeks pass, leaving me lost in a swirling whirlpool of conflicting feelings.
I thought I knew who Lucas was from that first stolen kiss at his party. I thought he was a mindless jock and a spoiled asshole only interested in fucking with as many girls as possible before going off on football scholarship.
He’s proving me wrong, but can I forgive him for the tricks he’s played on me? He threatened me, kidnapped me—twice—and I let him go down on me. Even returned the favor because the illicit hotness of the moment took over, stirring a need in me so strong I couldn’t deny it.
Maybe that means there’s something messed up with me for liking it in some twisted way. His filthy words have always had a way of getting to me.
Am I prepared to go from Lucas Saint’s favorite target to jumping into bed with him? I don’t know.
After Alec picked me up from that long weekend at Lucas’ house, where we spent more time naked in his bed with our mouths on each other than dressed, I kept to myself at school to avoid Lucas. The weight of Alec’s judging gaze as we left the lake house sent the oily guilt sliding over me as I trudged to the car, Lucas’ hands glued to me.
There was no way to tell which bruises were from the night of the storm and which were from Lucas the rest of the hedonistic weekend.
Alec shed the protective brother act once I pried about his attitude on Friday and what made him drink so much.
Why should I feel bad about doing exactly what boys do? Lucas made me feel good. And he didn’t press my boundaries again. Hooking up with him doesn’t make me some whore and him a hero. Double standards are archaic bullshit.
The only thing wrong with the weekend was lying to my parents about where I was and what happened.
They believed me when I explained Blair and I took a hike and got caught in the storm on a trail. I kept my hair down to hide the hickeys dotting my neck, courtesy of Lucas. Those weren’t the only ones he left on my skin.
Should I be more open with my parents? Maybe. Still, I can’t bring myself to run the awkward gauntlet of boy talk with them.
Not only did I have Lucas to lie about, but the accident, too.
Lucas offered to pay for the scrape on the passenger side of the CR-V. He said Devlin had a guy that did good body work. I didn’t want to owe him, but I also had no way to pay for the damage and I needed to hide it from my parents.
The kindnesses he offers paint a picture of a different person than the one I skirt in the halls at school. I don’t know which one is the real Lucas, but I know which one I prefer to be around.
The few times he sees me, he doesn’t come after me like I expect. The hunter’s look is back in his eyes, though. It’s more intense now. I think he might be waiting for me to come to him this time.
I vow to focus on school and my photo project until I straighten out the tangled thoughts in my head.
* * *
I get back from my shoot after dark. Mom and Dad’s cars are gone. Mom has a night shift at the hospital and Dad’s gone camping for the weekend. There’s an unfamiliar car in the driveway that must belong to one of Alec’s friends.
“I’m home,” I call as I come in the door.
“I ordered pizza,” Alec yells.
It sounds like he’s down in the basement where he’s turned the finished space into his cave.
I swing by the kitchen to grab a lukewarm slice of pepperoni and nibble on it as I trek up the steps to my room. I elbow open the door, grunting as I sling my camera bag over my head and set it down by my desk. I turn around to grab the laptop from where I left it on my bed and freeze.
Lucas sits on the end of my bed in jeans and a black hoodie.
“Jesus Christ.” I clutch at my chest where my heart skipped fifty beats at the unexpected sight of him. “You could’ve given me a heart attack. Why are you sitting all quiet in here?”
“I was waiting for you to get back. I haven’t been here long. Maybe ten minutes.”
He seems distracted. Quieter than usual. His attention flits around my room, taking it in.
“And you had to do that in my room?” I shove the rest of the pizza crust in my mouth. “Who let you in here?”
“Alec. I came to see him and he said I could wait up here for you.”
My eyes narrow. My room is my sanctuary and I don’t like people in it without my permission. Alec is dead.
The annoyance simmers away when Lucas shifts, playing with his hoodie pocket. It occurs to me that he appears less self-assured. It’s what’s off about him, tugging at my expectations and instincts.
I leave him be to retrieve my laptop and download my images from the shoot. There’s a comfortable silence for a few minutes.
When Lucas speaks again, it makes me jump. It’s not out of fear, but because I was absorbed in selecting images to add to my project.
“I like the bold lines in your photos.”
The deepness of his voice washes over me with his proximity. He stands behind my desk chair, leaning over me to see the screen. His familiar woodsy scent envelopes me.
I’m a little taken aback that he understands some of the concepts of composition.
“Did you look that up online to say to me?”
“No, I already knew it.” Lucas tugs gently on the end of my braid. “I like stuff lik
e that.”
A pleasant zing tingles from my stomach. I tip my head back to see him.
“I thought you were a football meathead.”
Lucas stares at me with an open expression. “Actually, I want to study architecture at Oak Ridge College of the Arts.”
My lips part and my stomach swoops. I was right. I don’t know Lucas at all.
Every student and faculty member talks about Lucas Saint’s pro prospects in football.
I just assumed…
Like everyone else does.
It’s a really good school. I’m looking at it for their fine art degree in photography.
“They don’t have football scholarships there.”
Lucas is silent for a long stretch. He traces my nose from tip to bridge and cups my face.
“I know,” he murmurs.
I feel like Lucas gave me a small piece of himself. I can see him better now that I have a key to unlock the door.
It’s the guy he showed me on the boat, when it was just us and his pug dog.
This is someone I could like. Maybe even fall in love with.
An electric static fills the air.
I let Lucas encourage me out of the desk chair. He crowds me against the desk, framing my face with his hands before kissing me.
Kissing Lucas becomes a storm.
The thud of my heart resonates like rain in my ears, the insistence of his tongue the thunder that reverberates in my bones, our harsh breaths the strike of lightning illuminating what we need.
Lucas walks me across the room and we fall to the bed. He’s all over me, a flurry of heat and lips and hands that peel me apart. He works my braid free.
My legs wrap around his waist and we grind against each other, the pleasure muffled by our clothes. I want to strip bare again, to feel his skin on mine once more with no barriers to hide from each other. Lucas must feel that need, too. He rucks my sweater up to lay kiss after kiss in a trail down my stomach until he reaches my jeans.
A rough noise leaves Lucas, his hot breath washing over my sensitive skin as he tugs my jeans down without unbuttoning them, taking my underwear with them. He follows the path with his lips, and then he descends in a rush of perfect wet heat.
“Yes,” I sigh once his mouth is on me.
Lucas growls and in no time at all I’m a tight wire moments from snapping, his tongue inescapable as the heat builds in my belly.
It’s like my body is attuned to his, primed to fall apart at a whisper from him.
Lucas strokes my folds and when he slides his fingers inside, I’m a goner. The mounting pressure explodes in a chorus of pleasure behind my closed eyes.
Then he’s there, kissing me, tasting the muffled cries of my orgasm as it ripples through me in shock waves.
“That’s it,” he mutters into the kiss. “I love making you make those sounds. Did your pussy miss my mouth? I’ve been hungry to taste you again since the minute you left my place.”
I reach down to palm his cock and he groans, attacking my mouth again.
We struggle out of the rest of our remaining clothes and it’s like things slot into place when our naked skin glides together.
He enters me with his fingers again. My back arches from the bed and I ride them, rolling my hips with each stroke. My body is on fire and I’m not ready to stop.
I’m so wet that there’s a squelch with each thrust.
“That feels really good,” I gasp.
“Ready to come again? I’m not stopping until you’re wrung out.”
I bite my lip and nod. He gives me a completely feral look, like he won’t be satisfied until I’ve disintegrated to nothing but dust.
“Tonight I’m making you mine for good. I want these fingers to be my cock buried in your body right now.”
He curls them and a sound gets stuck in my throat as pleasure explodes outward. Lucas presses his forehead to mine. His hand stills and I claw at his arm.
“Don’t stop.”
“You know what you have to do.” He kisses me once, brutal and filthy. “Beg.”
My stomach tightens and flips.
Up until this point, I let him call the shots. He made me feel good and I didn’t stop him from touching me. I’ve only initiated kisses and a few instances of oral when I was his weekend captive.
Lucas watches me with a penetrating gaze full of lust. His hand remains completely frozen, no matter how I circle my hips to get him to move. An agitated exhale leaves me and I lean my weight on my elbows.
He told me he wouldn’t take it. That he wanted me to come willingly.
Blood rushes in my ear, my senses overwhelmed by how much I want to chase the orgasm I was close to.
Feeling good right now means giving in.
Lucas is waiting for me to jump off that cliff with him.
He removes his fingers and kisses me, whispering filthy encouragements and promises into my skin as he torments me. My heart races and I cling to him. He makes my body a live wire with wicked pleasures coursing through it.
Every time I get close, he stops until I’m blinking back tears of frustration. I’m teetering on the edge of the cliff.
All this time I’ve held back. But I’m done holding back.
I don’t want my past to dictate how I live my life. I’m in charge. Lucas is offering me that right now.
I could cry and kiss him for that small kindness alone.
Somehow, he gets it. He knows that I need to make this choice for myself.
I jump off the cliff with Lucas into a free fall.
I want this.
“Please,” I whisper as he brings me close again, hand between my legs as he sucks on my neck. “Please, Lucas. I need you.”
“Tell me what you need, baby.”
His voice is rugged and raw. He’s feeling this as much as I am right now.
“I need you,” I repeat. “I want you to fuck me.”
“You do? Are you sure?” He leans up to grin smugly. “You don’t sound sure.”
“Yes!” I grab his hair and bring his lips to mine. “Yes, I want you. I want to come. Please fuck me.”
We kiss and his fingers thread in my hair, tugging lightly to angle my head back.
“You beg so pretty, sweetheart.” Lucas kisses my throat. “I’m going to mark your body all over. Even when my hickeys fade, you’ll feel me there.”
I shiver at his words. He kisses me again, then gets up to dig through his jeans. He comes back with a condom and a dirty smile.
Anticipation buzzes across my oversensitive skin, every inch tingling with a hungry need only Lucas can satisfy.
Lucas rips open the wrapper and rolls the condom down his cock. He sits against the pillows and pats his thigh.
“Come here, Gemma. You beg for my cock like that, you have to ride it to make yourself come.”
My insides burst and heat floods my face. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I kneel up on quaking thighs and straddle his hips. My hands rest on his shoulders as he strokes my sides.
“I’ve got you,” he rumbles.
Nodding, I lick my lips. His thumb strokes over my ribs and he steadies me with a hand on my hip. I kiss him when he lines his cock up. When I inch down on his cock, he swallows my choked gasp.
He lets me set the pace and I go slow. There’s an overwhelming sense of fullness and I don’t think I’ve taken his entire cock yet.
A quiet groan hisses through Lucas’ teeth and his hands skate everywhere, teasing my nipples and my clit with touches that are too soft, leaving me wanting more.
There’s a pinch and a tightness with his cock filling me, stretching me. My chest heaves with my breath once I’m fully seated in his lap.
Lucas falls forward, face pressed to my chest and neck. His lips move on my skin and he massages my ass. I can feel his cock twitch inside me. It’s a weirdly intoxicating feeling.
When Lucas shows me his face again, there’s a wrinkle in his brow and his lips part. Darkness fills his eyes, the
pupils blown wide.
He looks up at me like I’m some kind of goddess.
His salvation.
“Gemma.” Lucas holds my waist. “Move. Make us both feel good.”
“Who’s begging now,” I joke in a raspy murmur.
He swats my ass, then squeezes it. His mouth finds my neck and I drop my head back.
It doesn’t feel as tight when I roll my hips. I lift up a little and his cock slides into me like it belongs there as I sink on it again. We fit together. I start slowly, concentrating on the new sensations and the intensity they illicit.
It starts to feel good, more in a level fingers didn’t reach. Sweat beads our skin as I go faster. Lucas makes a savage noise and drops his thumb to my clit.
“Come on my cock,” Lucas demands against my ear. “I want to feel it. Come on, baby.”
My hips move faster as Lucas drives me on.
When the build of heat becomes too much, I tip forward and bite Lucas’ shoulder as I come with his cock buried deep inside me.
“Oh, god.”
All at once, Lucas wraps his arm around me. With a growl, he flips our positions. I yelp as my back hits the bed. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand and lifts my leg, thrusting his cock back inside in a fluid movement. My gasp catches and I arch into him.
“Fuck,” he groans. His grip flexes on my wrists. “You feel incredible.”
I wrap my legs around him as he moves. The heat builds anew, the flames stoked by the words Lucas growls against my lips.
“You’re mine, Gemma. Every inch. Your body, your mind, your heart.”
He claims my mouth in a biting kiss. I clench on his cock and he snaps his hips, hitting a spot that lights my body up. He releases my wrists and my hands fly to his back, holding on as he fucks me.
“You’ll belong to me forever,” Lucas rumbles. He bites my neck hard enough to leave another mark. “No one else gets this—gets to have you. Only me.”
“Y-yes,” I gasp, partially because he drags a response from me and because I’m falling apart.
I can’t keep my moans quiet, my insides breaking and building anew with each wave of pleasure pouring over me. I buck as he hits that spot again, wrenching another orgasm from me.
Wicked Saint: Sinners and Saints Book 1 Page 18