Charlie gets to making my drink. My gaze drifts to the singer, and something about her throaty voice is peaceful. She’s a crooner. There are a handful of people swaying on the dance floor to the music, and as the song stops and the people part, I see her.
Motherfucker.
Gretchen looks drop-dead gorgeous. But it’s the big mitt on her fucking back, gently stroking up and down, that makes my teeth grit. I know my reaction is a number of things, including inappropriate and unwarranted, but I don’t care. Every piece of me wants to break the hand on her damn back.
Charlie hands me my drink, and I take it back in one gulp.
“Meeting’s over. I’ll send you my proposal. I like you, Charlie, so listen carefully. You aren’t making out like a winner in this deal. We’ll own this, but I’ll make you a rich man. If you don’t push back, I’ll bring you in on the team. That’s as generous as I get.”
His frown tells me he had higher hopes.
“You don’t have to like it. You just have to find peace with it.” He nods, and I rap my knuckles against the bar before I leave him. “Expect it Monday,” I say as I walk away, effectively dismissing him to deal with a bigger issue.
I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I can’t walk out knowing she’s here with this idiot.
“THANK YOU FOR THE DANCE. That was nice.”
My voice is flirtatious. Josh looks down at me, his eyes hooded. His attraction to me is clear.
“My pleasure. It was just an excuse to get my hands on you.”
His fingers press into my back. He’s attractive in the most perfect Ivy League “I probably know a Kennedy” kind of way. So clean-cut that it makes the borderline dirty things he’s saying feel surprising, naughty, and welcome.
“Well then, I guess you’ll have to ask me to dance again. For the sake of your hands,” I joke, with dirty insinuation, as he guides me through the crowd back to our table. The heat on the small of my back from his leading me is making me all tingly and ready to call it a night.
I’m lost in my libido when I hear, “Luca! This is crazy, I was just talking about you.” Lyla’s voice is unmistakable.
My eyes shoot up in surprise. What the fuck is he doing here? Why do I care?
I see him give Lyla a kiss on the cheek, greeting her in the way that he does, so smooth and easy. Phillip is already looking at him like he’s a god. How the fuck does he manage all his personalities?
Lyla starts her introduction. “Luca is our friend Drew’s brother-in-law. And rumor has it he’s looking to buy this place. This is my friend Phillip.”
Luca shakes his hand and I blink a couple of times, trying to remain unfazed by his presence, and plaster a smile on my face.
His eyes lock to mine, and then he glances down at the hand that has taken a possessive place on my waist. I follow his eyes looking down at Josh’s hand, confused at why he seems angry. Is he judging me?
“Gretchen. Nice to see you again.” His voice is velvet.
“Hi. Third time’s a charm, huh?” I laugh, and he tilts his head with a wink.
My teeth find my bottom lip and start gnawing as my thoughts start to ticker through my brain. I realize I’ve been standing quiet for a long moment, forgetting my manners. “Sorry, this is Josh.” I motion to him, my hand grazing his chest.
“Josh.” Luca nods, disinterested, looking back to Lyla and Phillip.
“Are you here with Dom?” I ask, looking around to see another familiar face.
“No. I had a meeting here. I saw you from the bar and thought I’d say hello.”
Again, with a look at my waist.
“Join us,” Lyla says too enthusiastically, and Phil nods his agreement as they shift over and pull up another barstool to the table.
“Or not,” Josh says in between swallows of his drink. “I’m sure you don’t want to hang around after a late meeting with a bunch of youngsters.”
I look up at Josh, surprised with his statement. First, he’s got balls. Second, Luca isn’t exactly old. He’s forty but definitely not an old man by any means. Third, I don’t like that Josh has decided to have some kind of pissing contest with Luca. It’s fucking rude. Who treats someone’s friend that way?
“Or stay,” I say, stepping out of Josh’s grip, making him look down at me. I glare at Josh and hand him my glass. “Go, fill this.” He looks embarrassed, but it changes to irritation as he walks past Luca’s smiling face to the bar.
“Dude, your cousin is a dick,” Lyla says to Phil.
“Sorry guys, he’s kind of a prick about girls. Always acting like every guy is a threat.” Looks like I dodged a bullet.
Luca is still staring at me like he’s debating something as a barback brings him a drink. Josh rejoins us just as the barback leaves, and rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t realize there was table service,” Josh says dryly.
“There isn’t,” Luca says, bringing his drink to his lips with a cocky smirk, still not taking his eyes off me. What the fuck is happening?
Josh leans down and whispers in my ear, “I’m going. Grab your purse, babe.”
Ten minutes ago, I may have gone, but now he just feels like another entitled asshole that won’t be coming home with me.
“I’m going to stay. I don’t want to leave my friend.”
I eye Lyla and smile, hoping he takes the hint. I chance a glance in Luca’s direction and see that he and Josh are glaring at each other.
Josh doesn’t back down from the staring contest, while barking orders to Phillip.
“Get your girl—we’re leaving.”
He takes my elbow to lead me out; my brows shoot up, and I look at him like he’s crazy.
“Take your hand off her elbow, or I’ll feed you your tongue.”
Luca’s deep gravel is calm and fucking scary as he places his drink down on the table and takes a deep breath. He brings a palm to his cheek and rubs his stubbled face. My eyes grow wide, and Lyla’s mouth drops open. It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.
He stands and takes off his jacket.
“The problem with boys like you is that you haven’t learned how to be men.” Unbuttoning his shirtsleeves, he rolls each side up his muscular arms. “You assume that the more you bulldoze, the stronger you are. But that’s not how life works, Josh.”
Luca’s hand comes to my waist and he pulls me gently to the side and places me behind him. He walks closer to Josh’s puffed-out chest and leans in to him, jaw tensed.
“Have you ever gotten the wind knocked out of you, Josh?” Josh’s eyes search Luca’s, but he doesn’t answer. “You know that feeling? The one you have for just a moment when you think you won’t be able to breathe again? The fear that you won’t ever feel the air pull into your body?”
Josh nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly as he swallows.
“That’s what it’ll feel like, Josh. What I’ll do. Forget about choking on the blood—it’s the inability to breathe that scares you to death. Maybe even before you actually suffocate.”
“What the fuck, man?” Josh breathes out.
Luca reaches up and pats Josh’s ashen face.
“Don’t force my hand, Josh. I’m a scary guy. The kind that doesn’t believe in right and wrong. Do you understand?”
Luca grips the back of Josh’s neck and pulls his ear closer, and I swear I hear him whisper, “You can’t have her.”
Josh just nods at a rapid pace as he backs up. Lyla looks at me in shock but motions her head for me to follow her as Phil pulls her away from the table. I shake mine in the negative.
I don’t know if I’m completely insane or not, but I sit down and pick up the drink Josh fetched for me.
“Well, you really know how to clear the room, Luca.”
He turns to look at me, then takes my hand, his eyes still lost in the moment.
“Dance with me.”
Luca leads me out to the dance floor just as our jazzy crooner starts a slow and sweet rendition of a Nina Simone song. H
e takes one of my hands and joins them together, placing them near his heart, and wraps the other around my waist to pull us flush. My cheek presses against his chest, and we sway to the music as if this was the most natural end to the night.
I push every thought, every question, out of my mind. I don’t know what’s happening or why, but in this moment, I could die and be complete.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE fuck got into me. I lost my goddamn patience, then my composure, but sure as hell, Gretchen is still here. She isn’t predictable from what I’ve seen from her, except that no matter what I throw at her, she seems unfazed.
This woman is part supermodel and full badass wrapped around a wicked sense of humor and the truth. My truth. It’s strange to think someone I barely know understands me deeper than a woman I’ve spent the last year and half with.
The most fucked-up part is that I’m pissed Shelby lied about her intentions, not that she fucked someone else. But I couldn’t watch Gretchen walk out of this bar with anyone that wasn’t me, even though I can’t take her home.
So now I’m dancing with her.
It’s the only way I can pull her close and breathe her in. She’s starting to feel like something inevitable, as if no matter how hard I try to avoid what’s set in motion, we will happen. Or maybe that’s my excuse for wanting to do very dirty things to her body.
She feels exquisite against me, rocking to the music. My hand’s splayed on her bare back, and I have to focus on keeping it where it is because I’d like to bring it around to the front and run my thumb across her breast. Maybe even lean in and suck on her hard nipples.
I know they’re hard and that she’s braless, because she’s been at full alert since the moment I laid my eyes on her. That’s why her boy toy got so fucking territorial. I said hello and her body responded. He noticed and saw I did too. He’s lucky I didn’t actually fuck up his pretty little face. I could use an excuse to blow off some steam.
Those beautiful eyes come into focus as she pulls back with the end of our song. I can see all the thoughts warring in her head; they play directly across her face. She’s an open book for me—not for others though, just me. I like that more than I should. It’s like she allows me to see all the parts of her that she keeps for herself, the ones that are hidden and real.
“What’s on your mind, Angel.” That’s the second time I’ve called her that.
She taps my chest with her finger. “You are confusing. What’s going on here?” She motions between us with her hand.
“I don’t follow.” The look on her face is unamused at my false stupidity.
“Oh, you follow, buddy. In fact, sometimes it feels as if I’m being led.”
She raises one eyebrow, calling me out. How the fuck does she do this…make me want to own every terrible idea and thought out loud. When I don’t answer, she starts to walk away, and I reach for her wrist, closing my fingers around it gently just as another song starts to play.
“One more.”
She looks down at her wrist and back to me, letting me pull her in again. She melts into me, and I like the way she fits. I’m not ready for her to tell me no. But it’s coming.
I bring my lips close to her ear and begin to whisper. “I’m attracted to you, Gretchen. If I had it my way, I’d take you home and…” I stop before I say it, say everything I want to do to her. I lick my lips from the desire I feel to take her lobe into my mouth. Fuck. “But good girls only do bad things with good men.”
She presses her cheek into mine, leaning into my words, and our bodies seal together. We aren’t just dancing, we’re exploring. She tilts her head up slightly and lets out a soft exhale that makes my dick twitch.
“Luca, your logic is flawed.” Her whisper lingers in my ear.
I pull back and search her eyes, my gaze drifting down as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip and pulls it between her teeth. I don’t care what the fuck is happening around us because I’m fixated on the perfect full red lips in front me.
“How’s it flawed?”
“You’re assuming I’m a good girl.”
My fingers dig into her back. She’s as affected by this moment as I am. I want to rip her apart. I’d fuck her in the middle of this dance floor, and she’d love it. I’m sure of it, but no matter how much smack she talks, Gretchen isn’t signing up to be second to any woman. She’ll hate me tomorrow, and I’m not so sure I don’t care about that anymore.
“No. I know I’m the devil.” I push her back, putting distance between us.
“So do I.” She smirks. So. Fucking. Beautiful.
And perfect, but she doesn’t have a clue how dark this shit can get.
“Do you know what you’re saying yes to, Gretchen? Do you really?”
I take a predatory step forward because that’s what I feel like, but she never backs away; she holds her ground. It makes me want to save her, even from myself. “Or is it just fun?”
My fingers take in strand of her hair, feeling the softness. I bet she feels soft everywhere.
“I can smell your fucking lust, your excitement.” I say hushed.
I dip my head and run my nose up her neck. She inhales quickly, her chin tipping up, giving me more room. A soft moan escapes her mouth. “I’m dangerous, Gretchen,” I growl into her temple, laying a soft kiss against it.
“I won’t be there to console you when you feel ashamed. Remember that.”
I lock eyes with hers and reach my hand up to grip her jaw, pulling her lips to mine. A hand on the middle of my chest stops my movement before we kiss.
“Thank you for the dance.” Her voice is sweet, demure, but unmistakable in its meaning.
I don’t move, still holding her within kissing distance. I can’t move because that was her “no.” I knew it was coming—I’d told myself, but I hate it more than I anticipated.
“It was all my pleasure, beautiful. Grab your purse. I’ll drop you to your house.”
I let her chin go, and Gretchen’s hand drifts slowly from my chest toward my stomach before dropping away completely, and our eyes break contact at the same time. She turns to walk, and my hand finds its place on the small of her back. We only slow as she grabs her clutch without saying a word, and walk out of the club together to my waiting car.
George’s expression doesn’t change when he sees us. I know what we look like to him, and I don’t care. He gets out of the car and walks around to open the door, and I shake my head. His hand falls from the door handle confused. But I don’t want anyone near her. It doesn’t matter that she said no; I feel utterly fucking primal. And the feeling is fucking tripled now that I’m touching her.
I pull on the handle and open the door. “After you, Angel.”
Her eyes crinkle at the sides when she smiles at the nickname I’ve given her. It’s what she is: an angel. And I’m drawn to her in the same way misery loves company. I want to be in her light, but in the end, I’ll ruin the thing that makes her desirable. I’ll snuff out her light.
I get in after her, and George closes the door, then walks back around and gets into the driver’s seat.
“Where to?” I ask her, watching her legs cross, wondering what it would be like if I were to reach between them. Would she be wet for me? I catch myself staring at her legs for a moment too long, and I bring my eyes back up, hearing her give her address to George.
“Thank you for the ride. I would say that I owe you, but I’m not sure how you would collect,” she taunts.
“Smart woman,” I say approvingly.
She looks out the window, and I stare at her beautiful profile. She’s striking, but it’s the wistful look on her face that fills me with frustration. I can’t take that away, but I recognize the feeling. I want what I can’t have too, Angel.
I move my hand from beside me to her leg, my fingers resting just where her legs are joined. She doesn’t tense or move to stop me. The thing is, it’s the most natural feeling. It feels as if this is what it should be. Me, her. Always touching.
I’VE CROSSED A LINE, AND I can’t cross back. But the feeling that’s sticking to me so harshly is that I don’t feel bad. I don’t. I know Luca’s married. I know he’s not mine, but I want him. So terribly fucking enviously bad that I feel entitled to Luca.
Why not me? Who cares if she got there first? I don’t even know Shelby, and he clearly isn’t happy with her. Why should I care? I could have him for myself, right now. I’d just have to invite him up. Six little words: “Would you like to come up?” That’s all it would take, and Luca King would fuck my brains out.
But when he leaves and goes home, he’d be taking my heart to a place I could never show my face. I would be his dirty little secret, and secrets stay hidden.
I’m a terrible person. No, I’ve become terrible. He is the devil, but I never believed in God, so I guess I was an easy target. His hand feels like it’s burning a brand into my skin—all he had to do was touch the part he wanted, and it became his.
My thoughts are interrupted by Luca’s voice.
“Angel, we’re here. I’ll walk you to your door.”
He exits the car and holds out his hand for me to take as I get out. I do, allowing him to help me out of the car. He doesn’t let it go either as he walks me in. I didn’t expect he would. Instead, he brings our joint hands to his lips, without looking at me. If he did, he might see the curiosity I have to know what he’s thinking. It’s funny, I said no, but I’m not sure Luca heard me…or maybe he doesn’t care. I think I prefer him uncaring.
Luca opens the door to my apartment building, and we walk toward the elevator bank. “Five,” I say to him as we enter, and he looks at the call buttons. He pushes the number and we stand silent, hands joined. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience.
I’ve never warred with my mind so much. I would love to have the proverbial angel and devil on my shoulder, but it feels like I’m alone. Because I am alone—I’ve made my choice, and now I’m just deciding on the levels of regret I’m willing to live with. So much for the willpower I had the sense to possess in the bar.
The doors open and he looks to me for direction. I tilt my head to the left, and he leads me out and walks to my door as I reach into my clutch for my key. I pull it out and turn to my door, closing my eyes for a moment to check in with myself. I open them and face my door, looking down at the handle, my key hovering, my breath shallow from the tension. I can feel the heat of his body behind me, his breath on my neck. I want his mouth on me more than I have ever wanted anything.
Worship (Sinful Series Book 2) Page 5