“No, I need to tell you this. And I need an explanation from you.”
His tense muscles relax. There’s concern in his eyes as his nostrils flare and he scratches his chin. “Sure,” he says. “Whatever you need.”
“I saw you yesterday.”
He studies me curiously. “You saw me?”
“Yeah, down at L.A. Live. By complete accident,” I rush to add as if defending myself. “I happened to be there with Jules.”
“Why didn’t you say hello?”
I take and release a deep breath. “You were not alone.”
There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes. “Right. I was with Simone.”
I wait but he doesn’t elaborate. “You two seemed awfully cozy. Is she your girlfriend? Or a client?” The more I talk, the more nervous I become.
He shakes his head with a sad grin. “Neither,” he says.
“Please, don’t tell me she’s your cousin,” I say, unable to control my impatience. I wish he’d just give me a straight answer. I hate sounding like a jealous girlfriend.
“She’s a friend,” he says in the end.
“Really? A friend with benefits?”
He looks into my eyes as if discovering something new. “Isn’t any true friendship incredibly beneficial?” he says. “We all need friends.”
“Even better if they have super tight leather pants,” I say, failing completely to mask my jealousy.
He laughs, the bastard. “Nora, she’s a work friend.”
“A female escort?” I say as if I’ve proven my point.
“Yeah, that’s my job.”
“You know there’s another word for female escort.”
“Simone has no obligation to sleep with anyone,” he says. “You need to stop assuming you know what we do, because you have no idea.”
“Enlighten me,” I say.
“We’re companions,” he says with a sigh. “We listen. We care. Without that there can be no true connection. And if there is not some connection, neither the client nor the companion will enjoy sex. We will politely recommend another escort just as a friend would set a friend up on a blind date. We refuse business to anyone perverse or rough or rude. It’s very civilized and human.”
“But if an escort refuses everyone,” I say not sure how to finish.
“Then they are not cut out to be escorts,” he quickly answers my unfinished question. “An escort needs to have an imagination. They need to see beauty and charm in many types of people, all ages and temperaments. We must have a great deal of affection for broken people.”
“But Simone is not a client nor does she hardly look broken,” I say, still fixated on one very hot female escort.
“Nora, we’re all broken,” he says.
“And so Simone fixes broken men with her pants,” I say.
He laughs. “I never saw this passively hostile side of you before. It’s kind of hot, if I’m being honest.”
“Stop being condescending,” I say.
“Okay, Simone does not fix broken men. Her clients are women only and she cares for them so much at times she can feel their pain. I think she is too sensitive to be an escort.
“Women?” I say, a little shocked.
“One-hundred percent.”
“I’m such a fool,” I confess.
“Simone is bipolar,” Lukas goes on, thankfully ignoring my confession. “Her meds sometimes need to be adjusted. She gets manic. She tried to kill herself last month. I’m her shoulder to cry on. I try to be a stabilizing force for her.”
“Is this the right profession for her?” I say. “It sounds dangerous for her condition.”
He considers my question like it’s the most important question in the world. “You know, you would think, but she quit for three months and she spun out of control. Helping others is her calling. And dating one person only has, on two occasions, proved to be more pressure than she can handle. The lifestyle she has now gives her a purpose and financial security, but when her clients suffer, she suffers too.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this.”
“Simone’s my friend. I care for her.”
“I see,” I say, feeling so petty about all my questions.
Lukas remains silent for a while. I fear I might have spoiled the moment between us completely. “Nora, the only woman I am attracted to is you.”
His lips crush on mine again. I barely have time to kiss him back before he pulls my tank top just above my breasts, exposing them to his hungry eyes.
I whimper a little. He takes a perfectly taut nipple between his fingers, rolling it. “I’ve wanted to fucking bite those nipples since day one,” he says hoarsely. “They’re always perfectly outlined under your tight shirts. They’ve been driving me crazy.”
My breath catches. “Bite them? That’ll hurt.”
He gives me a grin. “I want you to beg me to stop.”
“Don’t you dare,” I say, gripping the fingers that tease my nipples, squeezing them together, urging him to pinch harder.
“I’ve wanted to do so many things to you, Nora … (kissing) … I’ve wanted to spread your pretty legs wide … (kissing) … enter your hot pussy with my tongue … (moaning) … feel how you quiver as I tease your clit … (kissing) … see how your body surrenders to me.”
I moan. Nobody has ever talked to me like this. Lukas is so sudden and in command. He’s a sexual beast. I fucking love it. Everything he says makes me wetter and… ahhh! He makes good on his promise, pinching down on both nipples so hard I see stars.
A hiss slips from my lips as he relaxes the pressure on my hardened buds. A throbbing sensation builds between my legs. His lustful eyes draw me into the untamed depths of him. It’s like we’re back at the beach all over again, except this time his hands are on my tits and I’m hot and pulsing with need and I have no intention of running away. I want him inside me. All of him.
“Is that a promise?” I finally say, challenging him to follow through.
“You can bet your sweet little ass, Mac. I’ll lick you inside out until you beg me to stop and then I’m going to fuck the prissy college girl out of you.”
“I’m not prissy and I’m not a college girl,” I say sternly and then moan again through my next breath as he unzips my jeans and pushes a hand inside, cupping my needy pussy. A sudden electricity buzzes hot through me as I tense and anticipate and pant a little. I know I’m going to come quick and all over his hand begging him desperately not to stop.
I.Have.Never.Been.This.Easy.
I blindly go for his shirt, trying to pull it over his head. I need to feel his skin, his pecs, his epic abs. I want to know him by the tip of my fingers.
He grabs my hands, stopping me, stopping everything. “Nora, I love turning you on, but we’re not going to fuck today.”
Excuse me? Is he fucking kidding me? “Your body has other plans,” I say, out of breath, as I slide my palm down the length of his hardening shaft under his shorts. Lord help me, his cock is next level. It’s so thick in my hand, so veiny and so long...and getting longer with every eager stroke.
He slaps my hand away. “Not like this,” he says. “I need to be sure of this. I need you to want more than just my body and my skills. I know I said a lot of shit before, but I don’t want this to be easy and convenient. With you it needs to be more. It needs to matter. You need to want the whole Lukas Dupree.”
I’m astounded. I don’t know how else to put it. I want to tell him I want the whole Lukas Dupree, every terrifying inch, but I know he’d be upset if I made this about the physical, but I’m so fucking turned on I could literally come with the slightest brush of his skin on my clit. I’ll tell him anything he wants to hear just to get him to own me with his tongue a little.
I’m terrible. It’s all about the physical right now. I’m consumed with the hottest thoughts. I should care more about his sweet declaration of true affection, but I need his cock too much. I must find the words so we can get past all this and get to t
he good stuff.
The knock on the door startles me. It’s absolutely the last thing I expected or wanted. I have the almost frantic urge to tell Lukas not to open the door but something about his demeanor gives me pause.
“I’m expecting Shane. I should have told you.” He lifts me off his lap.
“The Mad Max dude?” I say, confused.
I pull my top down and try to straighten my hair. I tug at Lukas’ arm as he starts to get up. “Give me a moment here,” I whisper. “Geez.”
“Just stay in the bedroom, I’ll send him away,” he says and that makes sense except I’m curious about Shane’s connection to Lukas.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Talk to your friend. Take your time.”
Shane’s anticipated visit is likely the reason Lukas was taken aback when I appeared on his doorstep. When I last met Shane, Lukas couldn’t wait to get rid of him. There’s something about his friend he doesn’t want me to know.
Shane enters without much ado, pushing Lukas aside. His hair is less blond today and spiked. Maybe it’s the gel or maybe he dyed it. Whatever he did looks good on him. He’s clad in black leather jacket and boots and carrying a helmet. Another motorcycle aficionado.
“Luke, my man, look who I’ve got,” he says. Almost immediately, another man walks through the door with a dangerous grin.
Lukas is taken aback. The newcomer is an impressive-looking man, tall with dark features and built like a brick wall, with a close crew cut. Holy hell. This dude is like oh-muh-goodness hot.
Dare I say, he even gives Lukas a run for his money.
“Tanner Hayes,” Lukas says. “No fucking way.”
“Hey, soldier,” Tanner says as they bump fists.
Shane’s eyes land on me. A glimmer of curiousness and nothing else can be detected in his expression. “Nora, is it?” he says, crossing his arms.
I try to smile. “Nice to see you again, Shane.”
This must be an alternate reality. I’m the only woman surrounded by three dangerous and delicious, confident men who are ripped and tan and ridiculously virile. It doesn’t help that I’m still in an extreme state of heat, thanks to Lukas.
“Sergeant Hayes has some intel that will tingle your short hairs,” Shane says with a grin that reveals a perfect row of white teeth.
“Sergeant?” I say, curious. Nobody pays me any attention.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Lukas says.
“Yeah, he’s never been the trivial sort,” Shane adds. “And this shit is pretty far from trivial.”
I glance at Tanner who’s listening to his pals talking without moving a muscle—not even a single blink. Then suddenly he turns to me. I look away in a hurry, a little overwhelmed by his somber intensity.
“That’s quite the build-up,” I say.
Lukas takes my hand. “Don’t you need to get back to work, Mac?”
He wants me to go. He’s not comfortable having me in the same room with his buddies. What the hell is all this? They use words like intel and soldier and freaking Sergeant. And Shane mentioned short hairs. I think I know what that means and it’s a little gross. Such strange words to use in everyday like. Isn’t this how military guys should talk? Lukas is a college student.
“Mac?” Tanner says.
“Nora McRae,” I say as if that should explain everything.
Tanner nods, saying nothing.
Lukas picks up my cardigan and hands it to me. That’s awkward. I kind of wish he’d have just left it on the floor.
“Talk to you later?” I say, searching to find some sort of mutual understanding in his eyes, a wink, a smile, something, but he’s too preoccupied trying to get me out the door. I feel like smacking him.
As I step outside, I sense Tanner’s eyes on my back. He doesn’t stop staring even when I turn and meet his gaze. And then the door shuts.
*
A cool evening breeze hits my skin but I feel hot like I have a fever. I walk into my quiet apartment with a strained smile, happy that the workday is over, but also emotionally and physically drained.
I felt so close to Lukas today and then we were pushed apart. Again. The universe might be telling us something. What I know for sure is that I’m out of moves. I’ve said all I had to say. Your turn, Lukas Dupree. I’d give good money to hear the thoughts that go through his head tonight.
“Don’t mind me,” I whisper to a spider hanging from the ceiling in my kitchen as I grab a water bottle from the fridge.
I make my way to my bedroom. Still feeling hot, I undress quickly and slip into some lounge pants and an oversized T-shirt. Lukas is on my mind. I want his eyes on me, his soulful and passionate attention.
This night calls for some caramel pop corn in front of the TV. There better be an old episode of Game of Thrones on. I need it. I need to be in another time and century, another world, some place that’s dark and magical, but I’m still safe and snug on my couch.
Lukas had the right idea when he said I was lonely. It’s sad that the more we’re connected electronically in this world, the more social media takes over our days, the more and more alone we feel. Or am I the only one?
Binge watching Jon Snow has lost its luster. I need Lukas. My hand slides into my lounge pants. My eyes close to imagine his face. (Lukas, not Jon.)
When the doorbell rings, I know that it’s him.
Chapter 12
Nora
He’s undone when I open the door. Sweat soaks through his workout shirt and his hair is wet and disheveled. He has a hungry, lost look on his sexy, perspiring face. “I was in the neighborhood,” he says.
“Have you been running?” I say as my heart swells.
“I was at the gym,” he says. “Thinking about you. We have to talk.”
He lets himself in and walks straight to the kitchen. I watch him gulp down my last bottle of water. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“So which is it? Were you in the neighborhood or were you at the gym? I don’t think there’s a gym around here,” I say, because I always say the wrong thing when I’m nervous.
Lukas studies my eyes. His eyes are void of emotion. Instead, he looks at me like I’m in his way somehow. He steps to me suddenly. My heart beats so fast as I sense something combustible inside him. Almost like anger.
His next step brings his powerful chest and hips against my breasts and belly. My skin begins to panic and tingle. My hands shake as they land on his chest. He’s all muscle. I feel physically overwhelmed.
“What are you doing?” I say, struggling not to whimper.
“Just be quiet,” he hisses sexily as he takes both my wrists in one hand, raising them above my head to pin me against my kitchen wall.
His eyes grow wild underneath the fluorescent light, his pupils widen as he stares down at me like a voracious predator. I feel naked. He sees right through me. He senses my fears. He feels my desires.
Lukas tears down my defenses one-by-one. A sigh escapes my lips just as his mouth finds mine in an urgent, possessive, delicious tangle of tongues.
In the wild swirl of our desperate kissing, I can feel his hand tightening around both wrists above my head, stretching me out like a feast he wants to devour. His other hand finds my ass and grabs it so hard I moan. I have no doubt I’ll have finger-shaped bruises on my backside tomorrow.
I don’t care. I lift a leg to wrap around his hips and let him know I’m all his for the taking. A deep, satisfied groan pours out of him.
“I never expected this,” he growls and then kisses me aggressively. “I never wanted anyone like this.” He’s so fucking intense I almost believe him.
“Women buy your lines?” I say, so overwhelmed I see no option but to try and lighten the mood. “You must think no woman in the world can resist you.”
“I don’t know what other women would believe,” he says, softly nibbling on my earlobe, sending tremors down my spine. “I’ve never said anything like that to anyone.”
“Okay, I choo
se to believe you tonight,” I say, wanting kisses more than words.
“Have you forgotten?” he says. “You came to me today.”
I laugh. “Oh, that.” I stare up into his eyes mischievously. “That was about sex. I wanted sex.”
He grins slyly. “And I thought you’d never ask.”
I turn my face away from his kisses. “You said you wouldn’t fuck me today,” I insist, pouting.
He arches an eyebrow. “Oh, no. That’s bullshit. I’m totally fucking you today. That’s happening.”
His mouth gets busy with my lips, ears and neck. He lets go of my wrists to free both hands so they can roam my body.
The world begins to spin. His fevered affection moves everywhere at once, exploring under my shirt, softly stroking my belly, my ribs, my breasts. His touch warms me like a velvety fire racing over my skin.
I pull his mouth down to mine, needing to taste him. It won’t be long before we take this to the bedroom but I want to savor every moment. I don’t want to hurry even as my need to be taken by him grows.
Lukas has other plans which involve stealing away my breath completely. His fingers sneak inside my lounge pants sliding along my inner thigh.
His fingers fly up to feather my bellybutton with ghost kisses. A wild heat tingles between my legs as I open wider to welcome his fingers return to my tender lips. He lingers a second or two before his fingers open me up. My hips buck against his hand, craving for more of him inside. He gets the message. His thumb begins to loop my clit expertly.
Everything inside of me turns to hot jelly.
“Take me to bed,” I command.
He tilts his head to study me. “Tell me you didn’t get yourself off after you left my place. Tell me you kept it all for me.”
I love that he can read my mind. “It wasn’t easy to wait,” I say, barely, my heart surging in my chest.
He lifts me with one arm around my back and the other under my knees.
For better or worse, I’m now at his mercy. I wrap my arms around his neck as he hurries to the bedroom. He lays me out on the bed slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s as needy now as I am. Sharing a bed with him after weeks of fighting the idea feels so unexpected, yet so right.
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