Tethered (Flawed Love Book 4)

by Emma Louise

  After my shift at Fuzzy’s, I stopped by their table to introduce myself. She made no effort to hide that she was just as attracted to me as I was to her. The best part—a bottle of tequila later and she was purring in my ear for me to take her home. My ass barely hit the seat of the cab before she was kissing me. I’m used to being the one to take the lead. I usually set the pace. I’m a man who likes control in the bedroom, but something about her forwardness was a huge turn-on for me.

  We barely cleared the front door before I was on my knees in front of her as she stripped her jeans and panties off. What happened after that was easily some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.

  I hear the shower shut off and know that’s my cue to leave. As amazing as last night was, there is no way I’m going to send her mixed signals. If I stay here in this bed, she’s going to expect a repeat of last night, probably more, and that isn’t something I can do right now. Maybe not ever.

  No, Lucy deserves more than a prick like me leading her on. No matter how much my dick craves a repeat of last night. My life is borderline chaotic right now.

  I have my jeans on and I’m searching for my shirt when the bathroom door opens. Lucy stands there in a tiny silk robe, and her bare legs shift slightly causing my eyes to drop in that direction. Visions of her wrapped around me fill my mind. Why am I leaving again?

  Dragging my eyes up to look at her, I see her gaze is trained on my abs, or is it something slightly further south? My dick twitches at the thought, and she must notice because her eyes fly to mine. The blush that coats her cheeks is fucking adorable. Yep, she definitely had her eyes on my dick. And now I have to fight getting hard again.

  “Hi,” she says. Her voice is soft, the edge of vulnerability catching me off guard. This isn’t the same woman who practically mauled me on the way here last night. “Lucas, right?”

  She doesn’t remember my name? Well, that’s a first. And not a first I'm happy about for some reason. Usually it’s me who can’t remember who is under me. Does that make me a dick? My little sisters would say it definitely does.

  “Morning, sweet cheeks,” I say, ignoring her question and giving her a cocky grin. That seems to throw her for a minute as she stands there gaping at me. I get the feeling she’s not used to this morning after stuff.

  Something about that makes me want to walk right up to her and kiss the shit out of her, exactly how she did to me last night. That’s another feeling that’s foreign. Most of my hook-ups are one-and-done type things. Kissing isn’t high on the list of things that turn me on with a stranger. Either on the mouth, or anywhere else for that matter. I might not have many limits when it comes to sex, but that’s one of them. Until last night with Lucy it seems. There was plenty of kissing involved, and definitely not just on the mouth. My dick twitches yet again as I remember the taste of her on my tongue.

  “Coffee?” she asks, breaking me out of the memories. She shifts on her feet, playing with the hem of her robe. She looks conflicted, like she’s not sure if she wants me to actually say yes to coffee or if she’d rather I leave.

  I should make my excuses and leave. Nothing good will come from me staying here.

  She’s too sweet, too nice for me. She screams commitment.

  I open my mouth to tell her I have some place to be, but that’s not what comes out.

  “Let me take you to breakfast,” is what I actually say. And I'm not entirely sure who is more shocked by it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCY

  “And that’s how it’s done, sweet cheeks,” he boasts, shoving the stuffed unicorn toy into my already full hands. This is the third prize he’s won in the hour we’ve been here.

  “You’re going to get us thrown out of here if you don’t lose at least one game soon.” I giggle like a giddy schoolgirl.

  Today has been ... unexpected. I’m not sure how it’s happened, but we’ve had fun. After we climbed into his car, we drove to a little diner he told me had the best breakfast ever. He assured me they were worth of the forty-minute driver over to a neighboring town.

  He didn't lie. With my hangover finally abating, I was starving and my breakfast had indeed been delicious. The best part? I found myself sitting across from the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on, and he didn’t even seem to give a shit that I practically inhaled a plateful of pancakes and bacon.

  Conversation was light, but that wasn’t surprising considering the rate at which I was shovelling food into my mouth. After I demolished every scrap of food, we walked back toward the car. On the way I spotted the fun fair and was surprised at his suggestion to take a look around. I was sure as soon as he woke up this morning he would have wanted to leave. He’s not what I was expecting at all.

  “You ready for dessert?” he asks, stopping in front of a truck selling delicious looking waffles with various fillings. The sweet, sugary smell makes my mouth water.

  “Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?” I retort, staring at the chalk menu board trying to decide between cinnamon sugar and Nutella overload. My attention is pulled away when he lets out a loud bark of laughter. I’m momentarily mesmerized by the sight of him. I’ve seen him smile a few times today, mostly just the occasional smirk. But right now, with his straight white teeth on show, and his eyes crinkled at the sides by his mirth, he’s absolutely gorgeous. My stomach dips as I look at him. When was the last time I was this giddy over a guy?

  “You’re funny.” He chuckles lightly, his shoulders rocking gently with it.

  “You should smile more often,” I blurt out like an idiot, and a warmth of blush hits my cheeks.

  “Yeah? Why's that?” he asks, like he has no idea how hot he is. His eyes bore into mine, even lit with humor, and there’s an intensity I’m not used to feeling.

  “Just shut up and buy me some food.” I roll my eyes, giving him a soft shove. I need to diffuse the sudden pall of tension that seems to have fallen over us.

  “Breakfast and a fairground snack,” he states on a head shake. “Not sure I’ve had a date as cheap as this since high school.”

  A date? A million butterflies erupt in my belly at his apparently casual comment.

  “Don’t you usually have to ask the other person before it can be considered a date?”

  “Would you have said yes?” he retorts. Damn. He's got me there. He must have sensed my unease with the situation back at my place this morning.

  “We’ll never know now, will we?” I smile, trying like fuck not to squeal and jump up and down. Stay cool.

  He sees this as a date. We might have gone about this the wrong way around—sex first, date second—but I can’t deny how excited I am by how today has turned out.

  ***

  By the time we’re back at my apartment, my nerves have returned. The ease of a day spent at the carnival has faded, and an edge of awkwardness is creeping in.

  He might have insinuated this was a date, but he hasn’t exactly acted like it was. He’s stayed close to me. Small touches here and there. His fingers trailing along mine as light as a feather as we walked. Little teases that have been driving me insane all afternoon. But there was also an edge of distance. Like he wanted me near, but not too close. Like he was just as unsure as me.

  When we make it to my front door, I’m debating with myself whether or not to invite him inside. I’m trying to work out how to get the words out when he speaks first.

  “Exactly how much of last night do you remember?” he asks, leaning a shoulder against the wall next to the front door.

  Shit.

  I don’t want to answer this question. I don’t even want to think about it. I remember every last second of it. Every. Single. Hot. Second. I remember seeing him as I walked toward the club. I remember trying to catch sight of him all night. I remember leaning in closer and asking Rina who he was. I remember dancing and feeling his stare on me, the heat of it making me bold. I remember him stalking toward me after he’d gotten off his shift. His bulk should have made him loo
k like he was lumbering, but he moved with an unexpected grace.

  But more than any of that, I remember the feel of him against me when I dragged him up to dance. The feel of his hands spanning my hips as I moved. The fresh, clean scent of the ocean that clung to his skin as I leaned in and whispered in his ear for him to take me home.

  Every time I’ve closed my eyes today, I’ve seen him. Flashes of all the things he did to me. The command he had over my body. The way he looked as he hovered over me. The way he felt as he drove into me, over and over again.

  If I close my eyes, I can still feel it.

  Feel him.

  A thrill of electricity runs through me at the thought. Swallowing down the tumult of feelings he’s just dragged up, I finally answer.

  “Last night...” The words falter as I try to get them out. “You might not think it, but I don’t do that.”

  “That?” he asks, eyebrows dipping in confusion.

  “You know what I mean.” I quickly look around to make sure nobody can hear me. “Sex,” I whisper, not wanting my neighbors to hear.

  “You don’t have sex?” he asks, amusement pulling at his sexy lips. “Gotta say, sweet cheeks, you’re pretty damn good at it, so I’m not buying that—”

  “One-night stands!” I cut him off with a whisper shout, feeling heat hit my cheeks at having to explain this to him. “I’ve never done that. I don’t judge anyone who has, but it’s not me. I was drunk, and I let my inhibitions go. I don’t regret it as such, but it’s a one-night-stand, you know? That’s just not me.”

  “Lucy,” he says, putting a stop to my idiotic ramble. He steps closer, so he’s directly in front of me. I don’t look up, still unsure of how I feel about everything that’s happened. His hand comes up, gently touching my jaw. He applies a little pressure there, and I lift my face to his. I don’t know what I was expecting, a cocky smirk maybe? But that’s not at all what I see. His soft eyes rove over my face, and I’m not sure what he’s looking for, but judging by the concern I see aimed at me, he doesn’t find it.

  “What do you remember?” he asks again, his voice low. A rasp that’s edged with something that might be desperation. Like he needs this answer.

  “Everything,” I tell him honestly. “I remember it all.”

  “Did I hurt you?” My heart squeezes when I realize why the desperation lingers in his voice. I shake my head, unable to get the word no past the lump in my throat. “You’d tell me, right?” He pushes me to answer.

  “You didn’t hurt me.” I bring my hand up to wrap around his wrist, the one that’s still holding my face. I hate the conflict I see raging in his unexpectedly deep eyes. “Last night was amazing. You were amazing.” His eyes flare at my words, and that flicker of heat between us sparks to life. “I might not have had a one-night stand before, but I’m glad I picked you to do it with.”

  Sliding his hand into my hair, he pulls me closer. Our lips are a breath apart, and I can feel each deep exhale that comes from him.

  “I think I have a solution to your one-night stand issues, sweet cheeks,” he says, molten eyes never leaving mine as he gifts me with a deadly smirk.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” His lips brush over mine in a barely-there tease of a kiss. “It’s technically not a one-night stand if you do it two nights in a row.”

  Any reply I might have had is stolen by his lips as they crash against mine, and his tongue plunders my mouth.

  I have no idea what this is, what we’re doing here. All I know is it feels so damn good, and I have no intentions of stopping.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ASA

  TWO DAYS LATER

  “Two flat whites and two of those chocolate croissants please.” I place my order and move to the end of the counter to wait for it to be ready. Pulling out my phone to pass some time, I open the Facebook app and scroll through the posts. I’ve been so busy lately that I hardly have time to see my family, relying on social media to see what everyone is up to. I’m lucky that my two sisters and younger brother all live here in town, but one of my sisters is traveling with her family overseas. Between work, all the shit I have going on, and the different time zones, we’ve hardly had time to speak since she’s been away.

  Luckily for me, my sister is a social media expert and posts plenty of photos of everything they’re doing each day. Right now, they’re on an island somewhere in the Mediterranean, and there are pictures of them on a beach. Bright white sand, crystal blue water.

  She looks happy.

  I can’t say I was happy when I found out she was going to be away for months, but I learned a long time ago not to try to tell either of my sisters what they can or can’t do. Just like I learned not to tell her who she can date; I tried that recently, and now she’s halfway around the world with him. After seeing the pictures of their travels, I can admit I was wrong about him, even if their ten-year age gap still pisses me off.

  I flick through the rest of the pictures, leaving comments on a few. Looking at all the amazing places they’ve been makes me crave a vacation. As soon as I get some free time, I plan to spend it on a beach somewhere.

  Visions of Lucy in a bikini fill my mind. Long days chilling in the sun with her on a sun lounger next to me.

  Lucy. I can’t help the small smile that tips up the edge of my lips when I think of the last few days with her. It wasn’t part of the plan, to stay so long, but there’s something about her that I find sexy as fuck. Something that makes me want to spend more time with her.

  The last two days have pretty much been filled with us fucking all over her apartment and eating. That’s it.

  Now, it’s Monday morning, and I finally managed to pull myself away long enough to run down the street to grab us some breakfast. She was in a deep sleep when I left. It was a real effort to leave her there instead of waking her for one last round of sex. Maybe if I can get back quick enough, I can talk her into taking a shower with me before we both have to leave for work?

  ***

  Using the set of keys I stole from Lucy’s kitchen, I quietly let myself into her apartment, not wanting to wake her if she’s still asleep. I walk into her room and hear the shower running. I set the coffees on the dresser and move toward the en-suite bathroom, the door ajar, planning to join her.

  “What the fuck is wrong with me?” I hear her say, and at first, I think she’s talking to herself, but when she moves to the side, I see her phone pressed to her ear. Something about the tone of her voice stops me from walking in. She sounds annoyed at something. Shifting to the side to get a better view, I watch as she paces around the small space. She’s wearing that fucking robe again, the one that barely covers her round ass. She stops pacing and leans against the marble vanity. I can’t see the expression on her face, but I do hear the confusion in her voice.

  “Will I ever learn? I have the worst taste in men!” She sighs, and a brief silence fills the air. Whoever is on the phone must be speaking.

  “I know you think that, Ri, but come on. He’s a man whore who works the door of a freaking strip club!” she scoffs into the phone. “What kind of job is that for a grown man?”

  Her words are like a bucket of ice being thrown over me. I don’t stick around to hear anything else. I’ve heard more than enough already.

  For a second, I consider confronting her, letting her know she’s so far off the mark that it’s almost comical, but what’s the point? I obviously misjudged her character. That’s on me, not her.

  This is why I don’t do this shit. Anything more than one night isn’t worth it.

  Heading through her apartment, I throw her keys on the counter. Making sure to close the door completely behind myself.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LUCY

  “Why the hell are you being a judgmental bitch?” Rina barks through the phone. Her tone is enough to deflate me, and embarrassment sweeps over me. She’s right, I am being a bitch. “You do know I’m a grown ass woman who works a pole in that very sam
e club, right?”

  “Rina, you know I didn’t mean that,” I whisper down the phone. “I’m sorry. I have no idea what got into me,” I say, sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

  Why am I being like this? Stone-cold fear, that’s why.

  I woke up this morning feeling ... happy. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt real happiness. And not just the kind that comes from a weekend of really great orgasms.

  Once I realized that Lucas wasn’t in my apartment, that happiness was swiftly replaced by that familiar bitter sting of rejection. I only had one weekend with him, but that wasn't anywhere near enough. The thought of him leaving without so much as a goodbye stung more than it should have.

  I felt stupid. I convinced myself that a few days of phenomenal sex could possibly be the start of something special. Of course he left. Why would he stay when I’d already given him everything he wanted from me? Opening my legs that first night obviously sealed our fate, right?

  Except, I found his note. The super sweet note telling me that he went to get breakfast and to stay in bed so he could feed me there.

  By then it was too late. He’d leave eventually; they all did. He’d move on, find someone better. And I'd be the one left behind, unable to move on. If I felt like shit this morning, thinking he’d left, how would it feel in six months? Or a year?

  I didn’t think I'd survive that. Not again.

  I was about to step into the shower when Rina called. My black mood caused those stupid words to leave my lips before I could do anything to stop them.

  The worst part? I didn’t mean a single one of them. I couldn’t care less what Lucas did for a living. The guy I spent the weekend with was nothing short of perfect. The kind of guy I could easily fall in love with.

  “What the fuck is wrong with me, Ri?” I ask, feeling the sting of tears hit my eyes. She can’t answer that, not when I don’t even know the answers myself. “You know I didn’t mean a word of it, right? I’m just...” I struggle to find a word to describe how I feel right now. “...Terrified. I’m absolutely terrified.”