by J. Saman
Suddenly I realize what he’s doing. He’s opening up to me about himself. About his life. It’s restricted and not all that informative as to who he is, but I get the impression that despite its brevity, it’s a lot for him to share.
He’s trying to make up for the comment I made about not knowing him.
“And you’re from Oklahoma.”
“I’m from Oklahoma,” Luke confirms with a nod of his head, but doesn’t offer more. The expression on his face and the tone of his voice suggest that he won’t.
“And you don’t like country music?”
He laughs. “Can’t stand it actually. I realize I’m in the minority with that. Most of this country does, in fact, like it.” Luke shifts his position, unexpectedly turning to face me. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently before taking my face in his hands and pressing his lips to mine for a brief kiss. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but you are.” I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t talk about myself, Ivy. I don’t open up to anyone. It’s just not me. But I find myself doing it more and more with you.”
And then he closes the gap between our mouths once again. Though this time, there’s no pulling back, and no more words are needed.
We kiss like this, in harmony with the salty breeze, the sound of seagulls squawking in the air and water lapping against the rocky shore.
It’s perfect.
This is only technically a second non-date, but it feels like a lifetime in the making.
It feels like it could lead to forever so effortlessly.
And for this very reason, I should pull away and end this.
But the way he’s kissing me, exploring my mouth and creating a labyrinth of emotions and sensations, won’t allow me to end it. It’s the best sort of trepidation, knowing what could so easily come next and yet needing to resist it. But even if it does end badly—and I think it’s probably a safe bet that it will—we’re already too far into this.
There’s no going back now.
A shiver runs through me, and I snuggle in closer to Luke’s side.
“Are you cold, honey?”
I love how Luke has a million names for me. I’ve never been one to think that terms of endearment are anything but moronic embellishments, but not the way he uses them with me.
“A little,” I admit.
“Can I take you home? To my home?”
“Yes.”
It’s really as simple as that. And that dangerous.
9
Ivy
* * *
We drive ten minutes in Monday morning traffic before he pulls into a driveway adjacent to his building, which is old and brick and beautiful. Luke punches a code into a keypad, and a large black iron gate opens, allowing us entrance to a small parking lot in the back. He parks the motorcycle next to the two back doors and helps me off.
I enjoyed my ride, but I think my days on that thing are done.
“What’s with all the keypads?” I ask as he punches in yet another code on one of the back doors before it lets out three beeps and the light turns from red to green. Luke swings the door open, motioning for me to go on ahead of him.
“It’s more secure than just a regular lock.”
“And security like this is a necessity for you?” I point at the CCTV camera in the top corner of the entrance.
He shrugs, “Isn’t security a necessity for everyone?”
It’s an evasive answer, but I let it slide for now as he takes my hand and leads me up a well-lit stairwell to another solid oak door. Yet another camera and keypad. I’ve never seen a private home equipped like this.
The door opens, and again, he lets me enter before him.
My first thought is that this place is massive. At least four to five thousand square feet of open space. My second is that it’s completely different than I had anticipated. I’d expected hard surfaces and modern, sleek, expensive decor.
It’s the opposite.
There are warm hardwood floors running throughout the space that look worn and original but seem well-maintained. The exposed brick is juxtaposed with warm-colored plaster walls, and the furnishings are neutral and comfortable looking.
“I love it,” I say, mostly to myself, because I really do. It’s bright despite the gray sky, and cozy despite its vastness.
And then I realize that this place fits Luke perfectly. On the outside, he’s hard, rough, and exceedingly beautiful. But that’s just the façade. Much of everything else seems to be held tight to his chest. But once you manage to draw it out, even just a small taste of it, you realize just how precious that really is. Because everything about him is so absolutely remarkable and unexpected in the best possible way.
“I’m glad,” he says. “Come in and I’ll give you the tour.”
Luke takes my hand again and leads me through the large kitchen, dining area and multiple sitting spaces—including one with a ginormous television. His office is one of the few closed-off spaces. We walk into the room, hand in hand, and it is so much grander than expected. Double the size of my bedroom at home and is filled with more computer equipment and monitors than I think I’ve ever seen before, including the feed for the multiple CCTV cameras. Judging by the numerous images on the monitor, there are several I have yet to notice.
It’s an impressive space. I’ve never seen a room like this outside of television, boasting two large desks, all those monitors I mentioned, as well as a slew of other electronic-looking gadget things that I can’t even begin to guess at what they do. His smile is off the charts in this room as his eyes glide over his playthings.
“My Batcave,” he says with a smirk. “When I first moved to Seattle after the Feds handed me my ass on a platter and tried to serve it with fries and a Coke, I bought this place,” he says, his eyes glued to a monitor, though it doesn’t feel like he’s focused on it. “I needed somewhere I could keep my stuff that I use to hack-the stuff that wasn’t confiscated at least.” He gives me a wicked grin. “Computers, laptops, equipment that allow me to jump IP addresses to places all over the world, secure wireless networks, portable firewalls. You name it, it’s in this room.”
“You still do all of that?” I swallow down a lump because I’m not okay with the illegal stuff. I know he and Ryan run an IT security company, but this. . .
“Nothing I’m getting arrested for. I can promise you that. It’s the toys, darlin’.” He gives me a boyish smile and a wink. “I’d be lying my ass off if I didn’t admit just how much I love my gadgets. They really are half the reason I do what I do.”
I notice a half-eaten bag of organic blue corn chips precariously tossed on the side of one of the desks. Nodding my chin in its direction, I raise a mocking eyebrow, making him laugh with his head tilted back, a hand around his stomach as he rumbles with mirth.
“When I was in college, I would have done this,” he waves a hand around the room, “with a bag of Cheetos in one hand, and a Monster Energy drink or a Five-Hour Energy in the other. Now that I’m an adult, I hack with fucking organic blue corn chips, gourmet salsa, guacamole, and high-end iced coffee with a double shot of espresso. I feel like a cliché if ever there was one, but I still crunch away on the damn chips while sipping my six-dollar coffee.”
“Cliché might be spot-on. Price of being a billionaire, eh?” I tease.
“I really hate that term,” he grumbles.
“It’s a real beaut of a Batcave or whatever you call it. And while I’m sure this is all heaps of fun, I have no idea what you just prattled on about with networks and the like.”
He laughs again. “So I can’t convince you to go on a hacking binge with me? Do some penetration testing?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, and all I can do is shake my head and roll my eyes.
“You don’t want me having a go at your stuff. I’m sure I’d break something just by sitting in your fancy chair. In the hospital, I am relentlessly teased about the fact that I can’t even work our EMR.”
“No
hacking for you then.” Luke plants a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Come on, let me show you the rest.”
He doesn’t bring me to the back of the flat where the bedrooms are no doubt are located. Instead, he directs me over to the sitting area that houses the television and motions for me to have a seat. I do, and I sink right into the plush cream sofa.
“This is fantastic, Luke. How do you ever manage to leave?”
He laughs, “I don’t a lot. If I’m not at work, I’m usually here.”
“Can’t blame you for that.”
“Are you hungry?” he asks softly. Standing in front of me, his brown eyes examine me, but in search of what I do not know.
“Yes, I’m famished.” I move to stand up, but he stops me with an outstretched hand.
“I’ll bring us something. Just relax.”
I smile and sink back into the sofa. Luke hits a button on the wall and the gas fireplace comes to life. He hits another button and the soft notes of Debussy fill the room.
If this is a seduction scene he’s creating, I doubt I’ll last much longer.
I can’t tell if I’m drowsy with sleep, or drunk on anticipation of what could come next.
Not even five minutes later, he returns with grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, and I smile at just how adorable that is. “You must do this a lot,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Do what?” he asks, mid-chew.
“Bring women to your home to make them soup, turn on the fire, and play classical music.”
He looks at me blankly. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know,” I giggle self-consciously. “It just seems like the perfect date. Something that has worked for you in the past.” He frowns at me, and suddenly I feel bad for opening my big mouth. “I’m sorry; that came out wrong. I just meant that this is wonderful and special and I’m loving every second of it.”
“I don’t really date a lot, Ivy. And I never bring women here. Ever.”
“How come?”
He shrugs. “I work a lot, and this is my haven.” He turns to me, putting down his half-eaten sandwich and rubbing his hands against each other to remove any excess crumbs. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here, and though I’m sure I’ll freak you out, I’m hoping that’s how it stays.”
“Luke—”
“I know,” he cuts me off almost sharply. “I just meant I don’t like bringing women here.”
I shake my head. “How did this happen so fast?” I whisper to myself. I like him. Dammit all, I do, and that’s just so unfortunate.
He smiles lopsidedly, drawing closer. His brown eyes become twin pools of desire, and I’m lost.
Completely and utterly lost in this man.
But more importantly, I don’t want to be found.
I’m enjoying our little interlude way too much.
I know I’m in trouble. I know that two days with him aren’t enough. I know I’ll want more and that I’m already desperate to manipulate time and space so our brief moment becomes infinite. I know I could be doing irrevocable damage to myself by letting him in. I know all of this. But what I don’t know is how to make it stop.
“Ivy.” Warm, slightly calloused fingers brush my cheek. “It’s not fast, baby, it’s exactly the way it’s supposed to be.” He skims his lips against mine. “Because I can’t get enough of you. I came home after dinner last night and all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you again. All I could think was more, I need more. I like you. It’s that simple for me.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing with me, Luke.”
He smiles big against my mouth. “I haven’t a clue, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop. I figure I’ll go as far as I can with you, and the rest will take care of itself.”
“I can’t get attached to you.”
I’m already attached to him. Who the hell am I kidding?
“Me neither, so we won’t delve into anything too deeply. It’s just fun, remember?”
With that declaration, his lips smash into mine as his fingers rake through my hair, pulling on my braid to release the elastic and set my hair free.
“Ivy?” he breathes my name as a question, but it’s not really a question. It’s a desperate plea.
I answer by pushing him back and climbing onto his lap, straddling his large muscular thighs that roll beneath me.
He groans as his arousal rocks into me, his hands sliding up my back under my multiple layers. I feel the hunger of his mouth as it takes mine, exploring and searching, leading me to the brink of insanity with just a simple swipe of his tongue.
I crave him. I thirst for him. I need him so much closer than is humanly possible.
My insides are molten fire, completely liquefied, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life. The irony of that is not lost on me. We’ve done this before after all. But this is so very different. This feels like I’m teetering on a precipice, and with one wrong move, one small slip, I’m going to fall, and there is just no way I’ll ever be found again.
His hands continue to slide up my back, taking my clothes with them, though he makes no attempt to remove them. So I do it for him, momentarily breaking our kiss.
Dark brown hooded eyes take me in, a strangled hiss escaping his parted lips. “God, look at you.” Luke’s hands cup my breasts over my bra, lifting and testing their weight before he squeezes. His thumbs slide over my nipples and the friction is like nothing else.
I moan, tilting my head back before it lulls to the side as his mouth captures my neck.
I want this to keep going. I need this to keep going. I want to be in his bed with him inside of me, but I can’t get myself there.
I’m paralyzed with fear, knowing all too well where this will take me. Take us.
“Luke,” I moan again, but place my hands on his shoulders to try and hold him at bay.
“I know,” he murmurs against my neck. “I don’t even have any condoms here.” He chuckles like this amuses and frustrates him equally. “Just . . .” Lust-filled eyes find mine. “Let me make you feel good. Please, Ivy. I’m dying to taste you.”
“Oh god,” I cry.
“Tell me you want that.”
“Yes. I want that.” And I do. I want it more than I want my next breath. He lowers me to the couch on my back, struggling to remove my leather pants and tights, laughing as he goes.
“Next time, less layers.”
“Right-o,” I giggle.
His eyes find mine from between my spread thighs, and it’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. “You won’t believe me, but I’ve thought about you for ten years. For ten years, I regretted not being able to do this.”
His tongue comes out and licks me from my opening up to my clit where he lingers, sucking it into his mouth. My back to arches off the couch as my eyes to roll into the back of my head.
His lips release me, placing a wet kiss to my clit before he flicks it repeatedly with his tongue. “God, you taste so good, Ivy. So sweet and perfect.”
A hum emanates from the back of my throat as he slips two fingers inside of me, pumping them in and out.
Within minutes Luke has me writhing and twisting, pulling his hair both closer and further back. His hand plants itself on my lower abdomen, holding me down. Pinning me so he can fully torture me with his incredible mouth and fingers.
I’m consumed. Utterly overwhelmed, and nothing has ever been this good. It’s all Luke.
And it’s not just his talented tongue or the way he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—though neither of those hurt his cause. No, it’s the way he makes me feel free when I have been hiding. Awake instead of dormant. Fearless instead of petrified. Ceaseless instead of temporary.
There are no words to describe that sort of liberation, and if he can make me feel like this after only a few days, then I may never be able to give him up. I want to drown in the sensations he compels. Fill my lungs and m
y body with this rush, and pray to god that it never ends.
I feel my orgasm begin to build within me. A rush of heat that starts low only to curl its way through my every cell. His fingers twist, angling up and hitting that magic spot within me.
I detonate.
My hips grind against his face, my body needy as it takes and takes and takes all he’s giving me.
When he’s done with me, when I’m sweaty and smiling so big my cheeks hurt, I return the favor all too happily. Rolling on top of him, I undo his pants, and take him immediately into my mouth. He chuckles at my enthusiasm, but the sound dies on his lips with a deep groan.
His cock is big and hard and I can’t help but savor every part of this man. “Chris, Ivy. What are you doing to me?”
His fingers thrust into my hair, clasping it by the roots as I lap at the precum on his tip before diving down as far as I can go, gagging slightly. He grunts and I grin, sucking and moaning, and doing everything I can to drive him as mad as he drives me.
“Fuck yes. Just like that. Damn, your mouth, Ivy. So good. I’m gonna come, baby.”
He pulls on my hair in warning, but I dig in deeper, sucking him harder until he explodes in my mouth with a loud groan and a curse on a his lips. I swallow him down, smiling as I pull off, and fall onto his chest in a happy, sated lump.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks, languidly running his fingers through the strands of my hair as we lie breathless and sleepy on his couch, wrapped in each other.
I prop my chin on his chest as he adjusts his head with his arm behind it so he can meet my eyes. “I don’t have any of my stuff.”
“Doesn’t matter. You can borrow what you don’t have, and I’ll drive you home tomorrow before I go to work.”
“You don’t think that’s a bad idea?” I chew on the corner of my lip nervously.
“Nah.” He runs a hand through my hair. “You need to stop worrying about this. I’m good, Ivy. I swear. I hope you are too, because that was the most fun I’ve had in ten years, and we haven’t even gotten to the really good stuff.” He grins suggestively.