by Nadia Lee
Is that what she said? Blake texts back.
She doesn’t have to. I know.
I tip my head backward, banging it against the headboard a few times. I don’t want to disappoint Elizabeth, but I can’t bear to hurt Ava. She deserves nothing less than true love, a fairy-tale wedding…the works.
I’m not asking her to marry me for some fucking oil and canvas.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ava
More than three hours later, I emerge from the spa. At first, I was a little annoyed that Lucas went overboard—and rather sneakily too, getting the spa people to give me what he wanted. But with my muscles feeling like warm clay, my skin scrubbed and glowing, and my nails shiny with a coat of gorgeous pink lacquer, I can’t complain. He was right to give me the works.
I claim my purse from the locker and check my phone. I have a couple of texts from Bennie.
First: Guess you had a good time. Don’t make it too good for him. He deserves to suffer a little for what he’s done to you. And good god, why did he have to send the moving crew so early? They showed up before coffee.
Second: Lucas said you were leaving today, so I’m going to host a party starting at seven for you. Tell him to hold the damned plane until midnight or something.
I frown. I had no idea we were leaving today. Lucas said he sent people to get my things today, but…flying out today?
When I reach the suite, Lucas opens the door and says, “Wow. You look amazing.”
“Thank you. I feel great.” I give him a smile. I’ve never been so thoroughly spoiled before, and not even Bennie’s text can take away my glow. “But what is this about us leaving today?”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Bennie.”
Lucas mutters something under his breath. “Yes. I told him that, but only because he was pissing me off. But like I said before, I can’t linger too long.”
“Okay.” I breathe out shakily. “You’re right. Why delay it?”
He takes my hand and kisses the back of it tenderly. “I swear you won’t regret this.”
“I know you’ll do your best. You promised.”
A man who allowed himself to be as vulnerable as Lucas isn’t a man who intends to screw up.
“Thank you.”
“Apparently there’s a going-away party tonight. I want you to come with me.”
His eyebrows rise. “Me?”
I nod. “You should. I’d love you to meet some of my friends before we leave.”
He shifts his weight a bit. “If you’d like.”
“I’d like.” I press myself against him. “So…what should we do until then?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I think you know.” I give him a wicked smile, rocking against him.
His gaze glitters. “Do you now?”
I let my hand brush against his cock. “It’s a bit too obvious.” I grip his broad, thickly muscled shoulders and steer him toward the bed. “And I think you’re too tense.” I run the back of my fingers along his shaft through his jeans.
“I think you’re right.” His voice is taut.
“You should be pampered too.”
“Most definitely. For the sake of fairness.”
“Equality.”
“Good for the goose.”
“Lemme take a gander.” I stop at the threshold between the living room and the bedroom. Does it matter where we are when I know exactly how I want to pamper him?
Going on my toes, I kiss him. He dips his head, fusing his mouth with mine. He tastes of mint and Lucas—an amazing indescribably sexy flavor that’s uniquely his. The scent of clean, warm male skin and a trace of soap that I’ll forever associate with him is tantalizing, arousing. His hands dive into my hair and clench the back of my head, not hard enough to hurt but forcefully enough to make his presence known. We breathe the same air and drink each other in as though somehow we can be one.
I let a hand drift lower, caressing the hard planes of his chest through the shirt. Though he seems to believe that his injuries have marred him, I marvel at the beauty of his body, its inherent strength. It’s heady to know this is all mine.
My fingers flick over the nipple piercing.
A low groan tears from his chest. “Ava.”
“Shhh…” I push the shirt upward. He helps, sliding it over his head and tossing it somewhere behind me. I lick my lips at the rippling muscles that are revealed. A medium amount of hair covers his pecs; his abs are taut and ridged, every line lean and clean. The silver ring on his nipple glints, and I flick my tongue over it, unable to stop myself. I love toying with that thing—the response it elicits from his body.
My tongue isn’t enough. My teeth and lips join, tormenting that small nub, while my hands are busy running all over his perfect physique. Heat pulses between my legs. Every time he groans, I feel the vibration all the way to my clit, and my thighs clench reflexively.
I undo the buckle of his belt and unbutton his jeans and push them down along with his boxers. His cock juts forward, the plum-shaped tip slick. I lick it teasingly as I sink to my knees before him. Gripping his narrow hips with my hands, I look up at his flushed face.
“Let me,” I say.
He nods.
I kiss his thighs, loving both of them equally, scarred and unscarred. I cup his sac in my hands, feeling its heavy weight, and luxuriate when he inhales sharply.
Tenderly I stroke his thick, hard shaft with my fingers, then trace the throbbing veins with my tongue. He groans, the sound deep and harsh, but keeps his fists by his sides.
I reward his restraint by taking him into my mouth. The large and pulsing feel is amazing. I hollow my cheeks, pulling him deeper.
His chest heaves. “Ava, baby, make yourself feel good too.” He pulls out.
I moan in protest. “But I already do.”
“I want you to come when I do. I want to feel your scream muffled against my dick.”
My cheeks heat at the unabashedly carnal idea. Slipping a hand between my legs, I take him back into my mouth. I’m already slick, my clit swollen and ready. I grip his ass with my free hand and bob my head while pleasuring myself to the same rhythm.
I feel his cock get bigger, his balls contract. His breathing is shallower, and the muscles in his abs go taut. The precum coating my tongue is slick and salty, and I watch his face, wanting to savor the moment, needing him to know what he means to me.
“I’m so close,” he rasps.
I suck harder, pulling him deeper, my tongue stroking him, wanting him to climax in my mouth. The beginning of an orgasm wraps around me, tightening my core, ready to rip me apart at any second.
He throws his head back, his body tensing. A guttural cry tears from his throat. “Ava—!”
He spurts hotly, the salty cum flooding my mouth. Swallowing, I shudder as my own orgasm barrels through me, leaving me breathless and weak.
Lucas drops to his knees and wraps his arms around me. His lips find mine, and his tongue meets mine in a crazy hot kiss of gratitude, affection, trust and something else I can’t name.
In that moment…scarily enough, I feel truly and utterly loved.
* * *
Ava
Lucas decides we might get too hungry before we get to eat later that night, so we munch on some snacks from room service. Well, I snack on fruit and yogurt, while Lucas polishes off a roast beef sandwich and fries.
“How can you eat like that and maintain your body?” I ask.
“Genetics?”
“Is that what you call it?”
“I exercise too.”
I cup my chin. “Do you?”
“Uh-huh. Mostly weights. Don’t run much anymore…obviously.” He shoots me a rueful grin.
I place a hand on his left leg. “Don’t be too hard on this guy. It’s incredible that you survived the crash and the leg’s still working.”
His numerous scars tell me everything I need to know. I wonder briefly how things wou
ld’ve turned out if I hadn’t left after Blake’s vicious words. The bastard denied everything to Lucas, but I know what was said…and so does he.
“By the way, do you know when we’re going to arrive in the States?” I ask.
“I had our pilot schedule a red-eye, and he’s estimating that we’ll land in Charlottesville around eight thirty p.m.”
“Great.” I pull out my phone and text Ray with the time.
“Who’s that?”
“Ray—my foster dad. He wants to know.”
“I’d like to meet him,” Lucas says.
My mouth forms an O. “You would?”
“You like him, so he must be a great guy.” Before I can ask him how he knew, he flicks the tip of my nose. “You were smiling fondly.”
I didn’t realize. “It’s difficult not to. He is a great guy. And his wife is lovely. They live in the same neighborhood you do.”
“Really? You never told me about them,” Lucas says.
“We never talked about a lot of things.”
We had sex, we had fun, but we didn’t spend any nights together, and we didn’t pry. I was afraid if I did, he’d disappear—he seemed so aloof and private. And I didn’t want to talk about myself, worried that it might come across as a ham-fisted attempt to make him feel obligated to share in return. Plus, my past is mostly pathetic.
Lucas looks pensive. “I should’ve made an effort.”
“We were both skittish.”
“Yeah, but… That’s no excuse.”
“So we can do better now.” I wipe a bit of ketchup from the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “I have faith in us. Don’t you?”
He takes my hand, kisses each fingertip tenderly and presses his lips against the center of my palm. “I do.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ava
The place Bennie managed to snag is a popular expat bar. The owner is an Irish guy who married a Japanese woman five years ago. He and his wife manage the place.
Lucas and I walk inside, hands linked. The place is already half-full with familiar faces. I’m stunned as I look around. I didn’t realize so many people would show, given the short notice and the fact that it’s a Thursday evening.
“My god, Ava, I can’t believe you’re leaving! It’s so sudden!” Barbara says, hugging me. She’s a freckled redhead from Scotland with a Sean Connery accent. Fortunately, her voice is a good octave higher than his. Always down to earth, she’s in a simple plaid dress and chunky boots, although she said the garment isn’t at all authentic—she picked it up in Shibuya. She looks at Lucas curiously. “And who is this fine specimen?”
“Barbara, say hello to Lucas. He’s my, um—”
“Boyfriend,” Lucas says.
Pleasure unfurls at the designation. We never called each other boyfriend and girlfriend before. We never really had the chance, since we were rarely out in public where we could run into people we knew.
“Hadn’t the slightest you were dating.” Barbara winks. “No wonder you didn’t show him around. He’s a catch, he is.”
I sense him stiffen through our linked hands, but she seems oblivious.
“Good for you,” she continues. “The two of you going back together, then?”
“Yes.” I look up briefly at Lucas who smiles his distant smile. His aloof attitude bothers me, but maybe he just doesn’t know how to behave around people who are really gregarious. “Have you seen Bennie? I want to say hi.”
“Aye, sure. The laddie went back there”—she gestures toward the shaded area near the kitchen and storage—“with Drew.”
Oh no. My spider sense tingles, and not in a good way. Bennie doesn’t do well when he feels cornered, and Drew going with him may not be the best thing for either of them.
I turn to Lucas. “I’m going to go say hello. Can you get me a beer?”
Lucas’s forehead creases, and I smooth it with my left forefinger. “Anything in particular you want?” he asks.
“I’m not picky.” I grin. “Surprise me.”
While Lucas moves through the crowd to get the bartender’s attention, I head back to look for Bennie. If things are going well between him and Drew, I plan to retreat quietly. Otherwise I want to stop Bennie before he does anything he might regret.
I spot them easily in the back. Bennie is in his favorite black long-sleeved shirt paired with frayed black jeans. His hair is sticking up like he hasn’t combed it in days. Meanwhile Drew is smartly dressed in a button-down gray shirt and navy blue jeans. The Converse sneakers on his feet are fire-engine red, lending a splash of color to the otherwise conservative ensemble.
They’re facing each other, their bodies slightly angled away from me. Bennie’s hands are fisted, and he looks like he’s about to throw a punch. Drew doesn’t seem to be close to violence, but he isn’t relaxed either.
“I told you already,” Bennie hisses.
“No, you didn’t. You walked out and started ignoring my calls and texts. That is not telling me anything. That is being an arse.”
“Do I have to explain everything?”
“Yes. You don’t get to storm out on me and then shut me out.”
“You’re abandoning me.”
Drew pulls back. “What? I am not. I asked you to come with me to England!”
“What the hell am I going to do there while you…” Bennie rolls his wrist rapidly in the air. “…do whatever it is you do?”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re the son of an earl!”
Holy crap. Drew is an English peer?
Drew’s jaw slackens. “Is that what this is about? I simply cannot—” He throws his arms up in the air. “Yes, I’m the son of an earl. The third son.”
“So?”
“I’m not going to inherit the title. It’s my oldest brother’s. What does it… Wait. Are you upset about that?”
“No.” Bennie bristles. “I’m upset that you didn’t tell me from the beginning.”
“It’s not something I talk about. It would be ostentatious and obnoxious to brag about something that has nothing to do with me.”
“Nothing to—!” Bennie’s voice rises, then as though he’s realized that they aren’t in private, he lowers his head…and hisses forcefully, “You were born to aristocracy!”
“It doesn’t define me.”
“You know what? Forget it. You don’t get to decide how I feel.” Bennie shakes his head. “You’ve talked enough. Just go. Go back to London and your…your life!”
He spins around. I step backward into the shadows, and he doesn’t notice me as he storms out. I sigh, my heart breaking. Poor Bennie. This explains so much.
Bennie doesn’t do well when he feels inferior. Although Drew’s right about what he said, Bennie won’t see it that way because he is keenly aware of where he came from—a messed-up family with an alcoholic dad and a clingy mother who just couldn’t recognize how toxic the marriage was, not only for her but for her child. She even lost a baby when her husband got wasted and pushed her down the stairs in a violent argument. To this date I don’t know how Bennie’s dad avoided jail.
Drew curses under his breath as he sticks his hands into his hair. I wave at him from where I am. He jerks back but recovers his aplomb quickly. “Lurking in the shadows, are we?”
“Sorry. I was coming to say hi to Bennie.”
“I suppose you got more than an earful.”
“Sort of.” I walk slowly toward him. “Sorry,” I say again.
His shoulders droop. “It doesn’t matter. He would’ve told you anyway.”
I stop a few steps away from him. “Actually he didn’t say a word about what’s been going on between the two of you.”
“He would have eventually. You’re like the sister he never had.”
“Maybe. He’s really upset about…” I gesture around. “This.”
He sighs roughly, digging the heel of one palm into his brow.
“He cares about you, Drew.” I pat his bac
k. “He worries that he may not be good enough.” The exact type of fear I understand all too well.
“I know, but he’ll never know that he is good enough if he never gives us a chance.” He shakes his head, then forces a grin. “Look at me, whining about my love life when you’re going home. Big change, eh?”
I smile. Drew is popular, and I’m certain he’s heard about the fiasco at my school. Osaka is a large city, but its expat community is small.
“It is, but I think it’ll be good for me.”
“I hope everything works out for you.”
I hope so too. “Thanks.”
We go to the main area where the crowd has gathered. Lucas watches me and Drew questioningly, and I give him a quick shake of head. Before I can introduce them to each other, Drew makes his excuses, hugs me and leaves. He’s probably not in the mood to mingle after that fight with Bennie, who is at the bar glaring at him like he’s the reason polar bears are dying.
Lucas hands me my beer. “What happened?”
“Too long to get into now,” I say. “Let me talk to Bennie for a moment. We didn’t get to say anything.”
“I thought you went back there to talk to him.”
“That was the idea, but he and Drew got into a fight, so I sort of cowered away.”
Lucas kisses me on the mouth. “I doubt that. You aren’t the type to cower.”
“Thanks, but I generally try to stay out of people’s love lives.” I press my lips over his chin, then walk toward Bennie.
My best friend is sitting on a stool. He knocks back a shot, his wary gaze on me. Maybe he did see me in the back, but didn’t want to blow his dramatic exit by acknowledging me.
“Okay, stop,” he says, morose over the tiny glass. “You’re leaving tonight, and I don’t want to fight.”
“Why do you think we’re going to fight?”
“Oh, come on. You’re here to tell me why I was wrong to act that way to Drew.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. You don’t know what I’m going to do.”