by Rae, Nikita
He cuts me off as he rushes towards me, grabbing hold of my head with both hands. With his chest pressed up against me, he crashes his lips down on mine and kisses me so hard I can do nothing but let him. For a heartbeat, a teeny tiny heartbeat, I let myself go. He straights up, lifting me to me feet as he stands, and then he pulls back, breathing hard, staring at me fiercely.
“Tell me that kiss at the club didn’t kill you. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about me like this,” he says, his voice rough, full of gravel. Holy shit.
“I didn’t. I haven’t,” I say softly, begging him not to hear my voice shake.
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Liar.”
Damn. He pulls me to him again, and this time I don’t resist. I’ve tried not to, haven’t wanted to, but I’ve needed him. Missed him sorely. I meet him with just as much force. He tangles his hands in my hair and is stripping my clothes from my body before I can even sigh. Gone is the Luke who was so conflicted the last time we were alone in this room together. Now he’s frantic, demanding, and frighteningly sexy.
“I’m fighting for you, Avery. I’m not letting you go. It doesn’t matter what you say, you care about me just as much as I care about you.”
“I don’t,” I gasp, “You’re wrong.” But I’m still tearing at his clothes like a woman possessed. In one hurried movement Luke tears down my pants and drags them off my feet, then lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his hips. He takes a step forward, narrowly avoiding knocking over the tripod and my camera, and then he throws me back down onto the bed, where he holds himself over me. Another deep kiss, his tongue parting my lips and playing over mine, has me panting, my hands clinging onto his arms. He kisses my jaw line, and then moves down until he’s grazing his teeth across my neck. I’ve never told anyone about that secret spot, the one that has me melting and screaming inside all at once, yet Luke hits it straight away. He and my weak spot are best friends, apparently.
“Luke!” I gasp.
“Tell me,” he growls. “Admit it.”
“No.” I am breathless, totally boneless underneath him as he reaches down and slips his fingers underneath my panties. A feeble moan works its way past my lips as he finds another spot that sends me just as crazy. He starts teasing me, running his fingers so softly against me so that my body begins to quake. “Please…”
“Tell me,” he repeats.
“I can’t.”
Luke freezes, his fingers still. He leans back and looks down at me, searching my face. “Then we need to stop,” he murmurs.
The guy is trying to kill me. I can feel him pressed up against me, completely naked, his erection harder than granite between my legs, and I know this has to be killing him, too. “No,” I whimper. At any other time, it would be humiliating that I’m so breathless and weak, but I need him. “Please…”
“I can’t have sex with you again until you admit it,” he says softly, his eyes pinning me to the bed. I tremble when his fingers start moving again, just missing the small spot that will drive me over the edge. He found it no problem two seconds ago so I know he’s doing it on purpose.
“Luke, don’t tease me. Please.”
“You’re doing this to yourself. All you have to do is admit it.”
“Admit what?” I grab hold of the sheets and screw them up in my hands. That’s the only way I’m stopping myself from punching him in his face for making my body burn the way it is.
“You know what.” His brown eyes are calm when I look into them. How can he not be losing it right now? Two can play this game, buddy. Reaching down between our bodies, I gently take hold of his erection and squeeze. His eyes flicker but they never leave mine. Even when I start stroking him, feeling him grow harder in my hand with every repetition, he doesn’t look away.
“I want you, Iris,” he whispers. “I know that. You know that. I’m not the problem here. I’m not the one afraid to admit my feelings. I love you, okay? And I know you love me.”
I carry on stroking him, trying to push a smile onto my face. A hard one that will tell him what I think of his foolish declaration. Of what he thinks he knows about me. But it never materializes. Luke reaches up and strokes a hand down my face, tracing his lips across mine gently. I stare back at him the whole time, wondering what the hell is happening. Why am I not leaping off the bed and running for the hills? Luke bites his lip and tenses a second before he finally gives in and slips a finger inside me. A rush of pleasure charges through my body, and I can’t stop the embarrassing groan from escaping my lips.
“Say it,” he whispers.
I close my eyes and I melt as he pushes another finger inside me.
“Say it, Avery.”
Shake your head. Shake your head, damnit! But I don’t. I rock up with my hips instead, begging for more of him to be inside me. “I need you,” I moan.
“That’s not it,” he replies, drawing his fingers out. I cry out and he pushes back a little. He’s so hard in my hand, and his muscles are twitching erratically. There’s no way he isn’t on the verge of coming.
“Please, Luke.”
“Still not it,” he says gruffly, his breath unbearably hot against my neck. I shiver and press my body harder against his. Luke leans away, making me whimper again. I’m frustratingly close to tears when he sits back completely, kneeling over me. He continues pushing his fingers inside me, but he puts his hand over mine on his erection. “You don’t get to make me come.”
“Are you…bribing me?” I pant.
Luke shakes his head, his eyes intense. “Sex is important to me, Avery. That’s why I didn’t sleep with Casey all those years. It’s okay for me to love you and do this, but I can’t be with you like that if you don’t admit what you’re feeling.”
My mind starts spiraling in that crazy Seeing Stars kind of way. He takes my hand off him and just about blows my mind when he starts stroking himself. I’ve never seen anything so hot in my entire life. I want to watch some more but he shimmies down the bed and pushes my legs apart roughly, pulling my panties out of the way. I know what’s coming but that doesn’t stop me from crying out when his tongue touches me.
“Shit! Luke, please!” I groan.
He doesn’t stop. If anything my begging only seems to make him draw it out even more; his tongue sweeps across the very center of me, slower and slower until it feels like my whole body is vibrating. I can’t take it anymore. I sit up and grab his arms, pulling him up the bed. He lands on top of me, still so incredibly serious.
“Just do it, Luke. Please just do it. I need you.”
He is so close to being inside me, unbearably so, but no matter how much I wriggle he keeps moving away. Eventually he puts a stop to my ideas by grabbing my hands over my head and pinning me.
“I’m not some jerk who sleeps around, Avery. You’ve got to be honest. Tell me!”
I buck underneath him, fighting to get free. “You’re insane, “ I hiss.
“And you’re lying to me and to yourself,” he says. “Now just do it.” He presses down on top of me and the tip of his erection pushes into me, making my skin burn. I’m on fire.
“I…I can’t!”
“DAMN IT, AVERY, TELL ME THE TRUTH!”
And that’s when I snap. When everything snaps. The wall I so carefully constructed and have been hiding behind for so long crumbles and I’m left naked in more ways that one. “Fine! I love you, Luke. I love you so much I think I might die sometimes!Are you happy now?” With my eyes finally open, I stare up into his face, feeling ridiculous when they start to burn.
“Do you mean it?” he whispers.
I can’t answer. Tears streak down my cheeks as I nod my head, yes, my heart breaking, suddenly feeling like a frightened little girl. This is the most exposed I have ever been in my life, and there’s no turning back. I don’t know what I expect to see on Luke’s face—triumph, maybe—but it isn’t pain. Yet there it is.
“Thank God,” he says softly. And then he pushes inside me. I suck in a
sharp breath and hold it, not wanting to make a sound. “Don’t leave me out here on my own,” he says, as though he knows exactly what’s happening inside me: sheer, uncontrollable panic. I told him. I told him! “Look at me, baby.” Luke draws me back with his soft voice, and I do as he asks. He pushes into me again, and my body shudders.
“Oh, God.” I can’t stop what is building. Nothing can. Luke’s intensity only grows as he thrusts again, his shoulders starting to tremble.
“You’re mine. Say it!” he growls.
I manage to say it as I came apart in his hands, my body disintegrating into blindly firing nerve endings. “I’m yours, Luke! I’m yours.” And I really am.
Damn it.
******
It’s still dark when the phone starts screaming in Luke’s apartment. If I’m honest, I’ve been watching him like some creepy yet very confused stalker, and he totally busts me when his eyes snap open. He gives me a small smile when he comes to and rubs at one eye sleepily before stretching and grabbing hold of the handset beside his bed. The blue glow from the screen lights up his face as he answers.
“Cole, if this is you, I’m going to cause you severe fucking pain. It’s four am,” he groans into the receiver.
Four am and I’m naked in Luke Reid’s bed. What the hell am I doing? I’ve never, never, stayed the night at a guy’s place before. Then again I’ve never told anyone I love them before either, so tonight is clearly a night for firsts.
Luke goes still as he listens to the muffled voice on the end of the phone; he seems to be holding his breath. The voice stops talking and Luke just stares up at the ceiling for a second before he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “Wait, what? Say that again.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, unblinking, as he stares blankly ahead of him. I study his face, wondering, fearing, panicking over whatever has made him turn to stone.
“And why the hell do they think that?” he asks, sitting up slowly. His free hand goes to the back of his neck, where he rubs back and forth anxiously. The tone in his voice is strained—not a good sign. “Yeah. She’s here. Her phone’s probably…it must be in the other room.” My stomach bottoms out. I sit forward, clasping my hands together, holding them to my mouth. Luke blinks, the look of a stunned man. “Yeah. Yes, I’ll be there.” He hangs up and leans forward, pressing the phone into his forehead.
“What is it, Luke?”
“Breakwater PD,” he whispers.
Oh. God. My heart starts slamming in my chest. Whatever it was they just told Luke was worth calling for at four am in the morning. And by the sounds of things they’ve been trying to call me, too. I scoot back in the bed, clutching the sheet to my chest, trying to work out how on earth I’m going to escape whatever it is I’m about to find out.
“Just tell me.” The words fly out, unbidden, in a whisper. I want to snatch them out of the air and cram them straight back into my mouth.
“That was the duty officer at my old station. He said…” He trails off, shaking his head blankly.
“He said what?”
Luke’s eyes are dark pools in the half-light. “He said they just brought your uncle in for questioning.”
“I’M GONNA need your keys, cell phone, jewelry, loose change, everything in your pockets, basically, and that includes your lint. Place the items in the tray and wait until we call you.” I don’t know the young female officer behind the counter of Breakwater police station and she doesn’t know me, but we’ve come to an instant mutual agreement: we don’t like one another. She seems fine with Luke, though. “You can go through if you like, hon. Chloe’s expecting you.”
“That’s okay, I’ll wait out here,” he tells her, slipping his hand into mine. We sit in the station for an hour before Chloe Mathers, Luke’s old partner, comes to find us. I recognize her as soon as she walks through the door. She was with Luke the day they came to tell us about my dad. She made my mom a cup of tea, like that was going to fix everything.
“Iris,” she says, nodding towards me. “Good to see you again. How you goin’, Luke?” She bypasses his outstretched hand and pulls him in for a hug. “Not the most ideal circumstances to be seeing you again, but still a pleasure all the same.”
Luke hugs her back awkwardly. “Yeah, good to see you, too, Chloe.”
She nods her head through the open door behind her into the police station. “Come on. He’s already been interviewed, I’m not supposed to do this but it can’t really hurt. You can see him for five minutes.”
My heart fumbles in my chest. I still have no idea why they pulled my uncle in, what they can possibly have discovered to make them think he had anything to do with this. They have to be wrong. We follow Chloe into the station and make our way to the holding cells. The place reminds me of a hospital, all bleach and blank faces and flickering fluorescent lighting. Chloe stops in front of a door, opens it, and gestures us inside. Through the door, there’s a single peeling veneer table, three chairs, and my uncle Brandon. He looks startled when his head shoots up, catching sight of me immediately.
“What are you doing here, kiddo? You didn’t need to come.” He looks like hell. He’s always a little scruffy, but his unshaven face and the bags under his eyes make him look flat-out ill.
“You look like shit, Uncle B.” I take a seat across the table from and turn—Luke is hovering in the doorway.
“I can give you guys a minute, if you like?”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. Stay. Please.” There’s no way I can handle doing this on my own, and Luke will know better than anyone if they have grounds to keep holding Brandon. Luke nods, slipping into the seat beside me.
“I’ll be back in five,” Officer Mathers tells us. She pulls a tight smile and closes the door, leaving us alone.
“What the hell’s going on, Brandon? No one will tell us anything.”
Brandon closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping. He looks exhausted. “They say they think I was there the day your dad and those other men died. They think I had something to do with it.”
My knee sets to bouncing up and down under the table. Just hearing him say those words makes bile rise up in my throat. “Why the hell would they think that?”
“Something about an old camera of mine. They had a video handed in at the station a week ago and it was apparently shot using a specific kind of film. A rare one that I used to use.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous! I mean anyone could have a camera that uses a certain type of film, Brand. Right?”
My uncle goes quiet for a moment, chewing on his lip. “Yeah, but there’s a fault on this particular camera I own, a light leak. It allows light into the housing. It corrupts the video in a very specific way. Apparently, the film that was handed in bore a leak that could only have been created by my camera.”
I process this for a second. “So, it was definitely your camera. Does that mean they can prove it was you who shot the thing?” My heart is beating like crazy. A small, terrified part of my brain is causing chaos, screaming, Did he do it? Did he do it? Of course he didn’t, I know that, but still. That nasty little suspicion is making my whole body tremble. Luke puts his hand on my knee under the table, shoots me a reassuring look.
“I keep telling them that I loaned that camera to your dad, Iris, but they don’t seem to be listening. He borrowed it months before he died. I never got it back. They seized it among his possessions, but they say someone was holding the camera when your dad was in that room with the other men…it wasn’t on a tripod, it was following him around the room.”
A pained expression flutters across Brandon’s face. He looks sick to his stomach.
“You know I would never hurt anyone, right Iris? You know I would never hurt your dad?”
I nod my head immediately. I can’t get the words out, though. It isn’t that I don’t believe him. My throat is just closing up, refusing to let me speak. This is such a mess. Everything. My whole life, Brandon’s life, Luke’s…
“Brandon, I’m going to go see if I can get you a coffee,” Luke murmurs. He squeezes my hand one last time and then plants a soft kiss on top of my head, surprising me. “I’ll be right back.”
Brandon scratches at his stubble, his eyes searching my face. “I knew you were a smart girl,” is all he says. His gaze drops to his hands, and it’s then that I notice they’re handcuffed together at the wrists.
“Oh my God, they’ve cuffed you?”
“I’m under arrest, kiddo. Generally means you get the five star treatment.”
“This is such bullshit. We’re going to work this out, okay? Do you even know what’s on the tape?”
Brandon sighs, heavy and worn down. “They’re not sharing. I think they’re trying to get me to slip up, waiting for me to tell them what’s on the tape. I’m pretty sure they think they’re gonna get me to accidentally admit to something that way.”
“Will they tell Luke what—” My sentence remains unfinished. The door to the interview room slams open, and a tall woman in a pantsuit stands there, gaping at us. Her red hair is pulled back into a tight bun, so tight, in fact, that I wonder whether she’s cut the circulation off to her scalp.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” The woman places one arm up on the doorjamb, the other on her hip. She glares straight at me, pissed.
“I—I was told this was okay?”
“Well, it’s not okay. Who are you?”
“Iris Breslin. She’s my niece,” Brandon answers. I return the woman’s steely gaze, getting the distinct feeling that she’s pulling it off a lot more convincingly than I am.
“I’m FBI Agent Cosgrove, and this is a federal investigation. You can’t be in here.” She motions me to stand with a casual flick of her wrist. Up.
I rise, shooting Brandon a quick glance. “I’ll call a lawyer, okay? You’ll be out of here by tomorrow.”
I have to leave then, under the watchful eye of Agent Cosgrove. She shoots daggers at me as she slams the door, blocking out my uncle and her unsmiling face as she does so. Luke appears down the abandoned corridor with a polystyrene cup in either hand, the coffee steaming.