Irresistible You

Home > Memoir > Irresistible You > Page 13
Irresistible You Page 13

by Barbara Boswell

“Which means I’m not seeing the whole picture, just an incomplete outline of what actually happened,” Luke concluded.

  “It’s such an ugly story, Luke.”

  “We don’t have to take it any further if you don’t want to, Brenna. But you’ve risen above whatever ugliness happened. Never lose sight of that fact.”

  Brenna gazed at him gratefully. He seemed to instinctively know when to encourage her to talk and when not to press her. She loved him for that, for his tact and his kindness to her.

  She loved Luke Minteer—and along with that insight came the realization that loving him freed her to share the whole ugly truth with him.

  “That night after he—” Brenna began to speak, but she never said the monster’s name, not then and not now “—was done with me, he left, and I called a friend whose parents came and took me to the hospital. The ER nurse called the police to report it. I went home with my friends that night, and the next day I told my mother what happened. She didn’t believe me. First she said I’d made it up, then she said I was the one who seduced him because I was jealous of her. When he came sneaking back a few nights later, she didn’t call the police, she let him in. Greeted him with a smile and a kiss.”

  Luke looked sick. “Brenna, what did you do?”

  “I got out of there fast. I ran to my friend’s house, and they called the police. But by the time they got to our place, Mom had already—done it.”

  “She’d killed him,” Luke verified.

  “Yes. Mom said he was drunk and told her about that night with me and said that I was—” Brenna paused and took a deep breath “—sexier than she was. Then he passed out and she loaded the gun and shot him. The D.A. said it was the insult to her ego that caused her to kill him, not any maternal concern for me. The jury agreed and convicted her of first-degree murder.”

  Luke said nothing, nothing at all.

  “Yes, that part always renders people speechless.” Brenna’s tone was resigned. “It’s so vile and trashy, I learned not to tell anybody. Because after the listeners recover enough to speak, they always say the same thing— ‘You poor thing.’ And then there’s more silence. I see either distance or pity in their eyes, and—”

  “Brenna, if you see either distance or pity in my eyes, you’re misinterpreting, because all I want to do is take you in my arms and hold you and try to make the pain go away.”

  Luke reached for her. Brenna drew back.

  “The pain is gone, Luke. I dealt with it a long time ago.”

  “Did you, Brenna? Or is it still ruling your life?”

  “I was very lucky and had a lot of help coping with it, Luke. After the trial, some of the parents of my friends at school arranged for me to be sent to Denver, a few hundred miles away, to a group home for girls who couldn’t live with their families because of abuse or neglect. It was nondenominational but run by nuns, and the girls placed there had to meet certain qualifications—their grades had to be decent and they had to be considered at risk for getting into trouble but not delinquent. The hope was to show the girls who held promise that there were alternatives to…to the way they’d been living.”

  “And you fit the bill.”

  “Yes, fortunately for me, I went to live there.”

  “And while you were there, you made friends and loved school?” Luke guessed. His dark-blue eyes shone with affection.

  “I was there until I graduated from high school, and I loved the discipline and the routine and the order. There was lots of warmth and encouragement and fun, too. I won a scholarship to art school and…well, I’ve just kept on drawing.”

  “So how did you end up here in Pennsylvania? It’s a long way from Denver.”

  “I accepted a job with a commercial ad agency in Philadelphia two years ago. It was a good salary with benefits, and I thought I ought to at least try working for a company instead of freelancing. I moved there…and hated the job from the first day.”

  “You preferred being your own boss, setting your own hours,” surmised Luke.

  “I liked drawing what I wanted, the way I wanted too much, to conform to the company way. I also decided I wanted to leave Philadelphia for somewhere smaller.”

  “This area isn’t particularly well known, even throughout the state, Brenna. How did you come to be here?” Luke asked curiously.

  “One of my friends in Philadelphia was Angela Volario—you know, whose family owns the Italian market here. She talked about her hometown a lot, and I came along with her to visit one weekend. It seemed like a good place to live and raise a child, and I really wanted a family. I’d gotten past my fears that I might turn out to be a mother like mine.”

  “That will never happen, Brenna,” Luke assured her. “Never.”

  “I know that now. The nuns said over and over that we have free will and make our own choices. I finally realized I wasn’t doomed to be like Marly, that I’d had a good father and grandparents and friends and teachers I could emulate. I could be a good, loving parent.”

  “All true. But I’d bet my next contract advance that the nuns wouldn’t wholeheartedly cheer your trip to the sperm bank and your plan to have this baby solo, without—”

  “I haven’t told them anything about it yet.” Brenna averted her eyes. “When I take the baby back to Denver to visit—which I’m definitely going to do—I know they’ll be happy for me. And they’ll be proud that I’m such a good mother,” she added, her eyes flashing, daring him to disagree.

  “I have no doubt you’ll be a great mother, Brenna.”

  Her brief show of defiance seemed to evaporate, without an argument to fire it. Her shoulders drooped; she appeared physically spent. Luke felt a surge of compassion for her. No wonder she didn’t want to revisit her past—it was a grueling ordeal, too draining for a woman in her condition.

  He cupped his hand around her nape and began a gentle massage. She leaned into it, closing her eyes.

  “Has there ever been a man in your life, Brenna?” Luke asked softly.

  “No. I was more interested in directing my thoughts and energy into my drawing. Having a boyfriend was never a priority to me.”

  “For boyfriend, substitute poisonous snake—or sex-crazed rapist?”

  “I guess I do have a few issues still pending in that area.”

  “Yeah, your sperm bank visit is proof of that.”

  She smiled slightly. “It seemed like the ideal solution. A way to have a baby without having to endure sex to get one. Until I met you, I never even had the desire to—” She broke off and shook her head, her eyes gleaming. “You can see what a clueless numbskull I am in the male-female arena. Admitting to you—a notorious smooth operator—that you’re the first and only man I’ve ever wanted is pretty pathetic.”

  She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her maternity top. “Feel free to ignore my lack of…cool, especially since a hormonal pregnant woman is hardly a—”

  “I don’t want to ignore it.” Luke stood up, too. There was a sexy glint in his blue eyes. “And you know I think you’re cool.”

  Brenna had to laugh at his inflection, at the word, at the strange circumstances they were in.

  “I want to take you to bed and show you how much I want you, too, Brenna. I want to show you that there is nothing to endure. Are you ready to let me?”

  “Yes,” she breathed, her tone filled with both surprise and wonder. “I am, Luke.”

  Eight

  They walked hand in hand to the staircase, pausing to kiss at the foot of the stairs.

  “Do you want me to pick you up and carry you?” he asked, leaning toward her as if readying himself to do just that.

  “Please don’t. Maybe it’s because of the baby, but being carried is—unnerving, Luke.” Brenna swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

  “No apologies necessary.” Luke put his arm around her and led her up the stairs. “I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to, Brenna. You don’t ever have to be afraid that I will.”

  S
he reached for his hand resting on her shoulder and linked her fingers with his. “So there will be no more pressure from you to name the baby Sam or Lucas, if it’s a boy?” she teased, feeling playful and younger than she could ever remember feeling.

  “Let me qualify my last statement. I’ll never pressure you sexually. Otherwise, I’ll try my damnedest to get you to do things my way. Winning over the opposition is part of my ex-political-operative charm.”

  They both laughed as they reached the top of the stairs and headed toward her bedroom. This time she felt no trepidation as he undressed her, she made no apologies for her pregnant figure. No apologies necessary, she reminded herself. Luke had seen her before, and he had stayed. He’d even made the return trip to her bedroom!

  So when he told her how feminine and beautiful she was, Brenna allowed herself to believe that he meant what he was saying. That he believed it himself.

  They kissed and caressed each other for a long time, with no sense of rush, no need to hurry things along. Each touch was special, each kiss meaningful, as tenderness and passion built and merged together into a loving conflagration.

  They lay on the bed together until Luke helped her on top of him, to sit astride him, putting her in a position that paradoxically made her both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

  Brenna wanted more, more affection, more reassurance. More of him.

  Leaning forward, she twined her fingers through the springy thickness of his hair. The sensitive tips of her breasts brushed his chest as she kissed him, her mouth open and demanding, hot and wild

  Luke’s hands skimmed along the length of her back, tracing the fine line of her spine and the small dimple at the base of it. After a few of these sweeping caresses, he cupped her buttocks, filling his palms with them and lushly squeezing.

  She moaned her arousal and wriggled sensuously atop him, bringing her into full contact with his throbbing erection.

  Luke reached up to fondle her breasts, teasing the nipples until she arched her back, tipping back her head so that her hair dangled down her back.

  She closed her eyes as Luke lowered his hand and his clever fingers caressed her with an erotic expertise. Perspiration glowed on her skin as a primal instinct guided her into a position which most maximized the pleasure.

  Brenna felt her body sinking into the sensual rhythm provided by his hand, and the delicious tension built, growing tighter, burning hotter. Her head lolled on her neck, frenetically turning from side to side, and her lips parted as she breathed his name and moaned her pleasure.

  Her eyes remained tightly closed. Opening them would require too much effort, and her whole being was focused on what he was doing to her, what he was making her feel.

  He murmured love words, sexy words that excited her even more. Luke was good with words; the thought flashed through her feverish brain. He was also very good with his hands.

  She nearly smiled at the thought, except at that moment, he slowly, carefully inserted his finger inside her. First one, then another while his thumb maintained just the right amount of light pressure on the small swollen bud that ached and throbbed for his touch.

  “You’re close now.” His voice was low and deep and seemed to exert a hypnotic effect on her.

  “Yes. Please,” she mumbled, as if in a trance.

  “Please what, sweetheart?”

  “You—you know.” Her words were thick and almost incoherent.

  “Tell me what you want, Brenna. And say my name,” he added, a possessive note creeping into his tone.

  Embarrassment and fear had lost all meaning; she felt sensual, she felt free. To say and do and feel. “Let me climax, Luke. Please.”

  “Yes, Brenna. I’ll do anything for you.”

  And then he did, and a searing flash of heat exploded within her, making her writhe and rock and scream his name as her entire body convulsed with the power of her surrender.

  It was a wondrous, rapturous tidal wave of heat and passion and release crashing over her. Before she could come down, as her body still quivered with aftershocks of pleasure, Brenna felt his big strong hands on her hips, settling her directly over him.

  Guiding himself inside her.

  She felt her body opening to his penetration, accepting him within her.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped. “I want you so much. You feel so good, so soft, like hot velvet. You’re my love, and I’ll never hurt you. You know that, don’t you, Brenna? Don’t ever be afraid of me.”

  Fear was the farthest thing from her mind, Brenna thought dizzily as she felt her body stretching to sheathe him. The fullness felt wonderful, an indescribable contrast to that empty ache that she’d known only since Luke had first aroused her. He was her first everything, and their bodies seemed exquisitely attuned to each other’s.

  Her insides pulsed thrillingly with his every rhythmic stroke. He adjusted her position once again until she could feel his manhood rub more directly against her most sensitive place.

  “Better?” he muttered huskily.

  Brenna saw shards of color streak like fireworks behind her closed eyelids. She whimpered. Better was definitely an understatement. It was the best, the most marvelous, the wildest and hottest…

  And then their bodies both plunged over the precipice into a sublime free fall.

  Luke held her as feelings he’d never experienced gripped him. He’d had intercourse before, of course, but this was the first time it went beyond physical pleasure for him.

  He felt as if Brenna had absorbed him as he had entered her, that the two of them had merged and become one. She was on top of him and he was inside her, he could taste her on his lips and feel her passion-slick skin against his own. A rush of protectiveness and pride swept through him. She was his.

  Her body was trembling, and he could feel her delicate little shivers as he gently eased himself out of her.

  He placed her down beside him, keeping her close and tucking her into the curve of his body, like nesting spoons. Smoothing a lock of her hair away from her cheek, he gently tucked it behind her ear.

  He loved her. The insight struck him with the force of a two-by-four to the head, leaving him feeling slightly giddy. For the first time in his life, he was truly in love.

  He guessed there might have been—there most certainly had been—a time in his life when, if someone had told him he would fall in love with an almost-nine-months-pregnant woman carrying another man’s child, he would’ve laughed himself silly.

  Of course, nobody would ever have said such a thing, because it was just too improbable for anybody to imagine. He was the Minteer with the best imagination, and not even he could have come up with a scenario more unlikely than this one.

  But it had happened, and Luke decided he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted Brenna, only Brenna, and if she happened to be almost nine months pregnant, that’s how he wanted her. Just the way she was.

  His hand automatically came to rest on Brenna’s abdomen, where the baby lay quiescent within her womb. Never mind the med student who’d biologically fathered this child via the sperm bank—the man whom this child called “Daddy” was going to be Luke Minteer.

  “Luke?” she murmured, her voice quavering.

  “I’m here, honey.” He kissed the corner of her jaw, her earlobe, the curve of her neck.

  “Could you go home now?”

  It took a while for him to fully process what she’d just said. When it finally dawned…

  “You’re kicking me out?” Luke was staggered. “You’re not only kicking me out of your bed, you’re kicking me out of your house?”

  “I want to be by myself. Please, Luke.” Her voice rose to a nervous plea. “I really need some time alone.”

  “Tough.” His hands drifted over her body, caressing, soothing, apologizing for his stand. But not reconsidering. “You’ve already spent too much time by yourself, Brenna. Now I’m with you, and I’m staying with you. Deal with it.”

  “Oh, I
’ve done it now, haven’t I?” Brenna groaned. “You’ve taken my request as a challenge and decided to stay put.”

  “It wasn’t a request, it was an order, and you can’t say you weren’t warned about what would happen.” Luke nipped her shoulder, then laved it with his tongue. “A less secure man might go running off, but luckily I have a strong male ego and am not taking your attempted rejection personally.”

  Within his embrace, Brenna rolled onto her other side, facing him, her arm sliding reflexively across his middle. She regarded him gravely for a moment. Her lashes were spiky with tears, her eyes shimmered with them.

  “There are those who might say your ego is more than merely strong, it’s overinflated, which makes you over-bearing. And that you should take my attempted rejection personally because—well, what could be more personal than a woman kicking you out of her bed right after…after—” She bit her lip and shook her head, unable to continue.

  Luke lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed each finger, punctuating his words with the light touches of his lips.

  “After we made love and you loved every minute of it?” he suggested.

  Brenna flinched.

  “You’re absolutely right, you know,” Luke continued calmly. “There are those who would say all those things you just said. But I have a thick skin. So even though you feel compelled to say stuff to send me away, I can just shrug it off. And I’ll stay with you, just like you want me to, Brenna.”

  She glowered at him. “What do I have to say to get you to go away and leave me alone?”

  “Your body language is saying all I need to know, honey.”

  Brenna glanced down at her arm, draped across his stomach, at her leg which had slipped between his…. She hadn’t even realized what she’d done. It was as if her limbs had moved of their own volition in direct opposition to her stated demands.

  “So I’ve come to this—saying one thing and doing another,” she said grimly. “Which makes me a total nutcase who is—”

  “You’re not nuts and you’re not hormonal,” Luke cut in, his voice ringing with that confidence and assurance he projected so well. “Your mother was a wacko and surrounded herself with similar kinds, which meant that you had to endure too many of them during those rotten years with her. So you learned not to let your guard down, and it’s hard to break old defensive habits. That’s all it is, Brenna.”

 

‹ Prev