Ashes & Embers Series Collection (Books 1 to 4)

by Carian Cole

  A purple spotlight shines down and lights up Storm, who’s sitting on a stool center stage, holding his guitar, and he starts to sing a beautiful love song. Storm’s voice coupled with the lonely, romantic sound of the violin is mind blowing. I can’t take my eyes off of Lukas. He’s so beautiful, oozing sensuality and confidence, the music flowing from him like he was born with that violin in his hand.

  I grab Evie’s hand under the table, and we hold on to each other, bonding as we watch the men we’re falling in love with on stage, knowing we’re never gonna be the same after this. I recall Lukas’ words about trying to make us fall in love with them. How could we not?

  I can’t believe Lukas never told me he plays, or that he would be playing tonight. I wonder if he’s actually a full time member of the band. I have to admit, I’m getting turned on watching him up there, the way his head is bent down, his hair falling over his face and shoulders, his arms and chest flexing as he plays that beautiful instrument. He’s a dazzling mix of dark goth, adorable, and classical, all rolled up in a damn fine sexy ball.

  Oh, shit. Am I really dating a twenty-four-year-old tattoo artist who’s also a rock star? How did this happen? I’m just a boring, plain, human resources manager. Lukas is way out of my league.

  The next song they play is heavier, and the rest of the band joins in as the lights brighten and fog wafts across the stage. I watch as Lukas saunters around the stage, adding some fast metal solos, shaking his head with sexy attitude as the bow flies over the strings of the violin. Hot does not even begin to describe him. I’ve never seen anyone play a violin so fast and hard before. The audience is going wild over him, forcing me to tear my eyes off him and shift my eyes over to see the crowd of gorgeous women trying to get closer to the stage, gawking at both Storm and Lukas, reaching for their legs and taking pictures.

  So not only does he have half-naked, beautiful women sprawled out in front of him at the tattoo shop all day, but he’s most likely got fans of the band after him, too. I swallow hard, a myriad of fears and insecurities swirling inside me.

  If a pretty girl was able to swoop in and take my average-looking, office-working husband from me, how in the hell could I hold on to someone like Lukas?

  The band takes a break, and Lukas jumps down off the stage and pushes his way through the pile of women pawing at him to get back to our table. I try to swallow my jealousy down. He only smiled at them. He didn’t stop to talk to anyone or let anyone flirt with him. He’s not a man-slut. He’s all smiles when he approaches the table, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

  “Well?” he asks, out of breath, the adrenaline obviously still thrumming through his veins. I hand him my glass of water, and he gulps some down.

  “Lukas, that was amazing!” Amy screeches before I can even open my mouth. “Holy shit, you rocked it!”

  “Thanks, it was fun.” He smiles at her and then turns his attention back to me. “You’re not saying anything,” he says, sitting and pulling my chair closer to his, trying to catch his breath at the same time. “Those lights are fuckin’ hot.”

  I force a smile onto my face, still not sure how I feel about all of this. “I’m just surprised . . . I had no idea you played the violin . . .”

  “And the piano,” he adds, grinning.

  “And the piano,” I repeat, “ . . . in a rock band. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He looks around at the crowd and then back at me. “I was afraid it might scare you away. And I kinda wanted to surprise you.”

  “You definitely surprised me. It was awesome, though. Going from that slow beautiful classical tune, then to metal was just incredible. I loved it.” I lean a little closer to him and lower my voice. “You looked really sexy up there strutting around.”

  “Oh yeah?” He quirks his eyebrow up. “Did it turn you on?”

  “Lukas . . .” I look around the table to see if anyone is listening to us.

  He touches my cheek and turns me back to him. “Hey, don’t try to back pedal into shyness.”

  “You’re so bad.” His teasing has become a sweet addiction for me. “You love to make me crazy.”

  “You have no idea how bad I want to make you crazy, Ivy.” His gravelly voice caresses my senses, and I squeeze my thighs together. Verbal foreplay is something I’ve never experienced before, but wow, does he make it work.

  He clears his throat. “I want you to know, I only play the intros and solos on a few songs. I don’t go on tour with the band or go to all the practices. I only play some of the local clubs with them.” He looks me dead in the eye. “My commitment is to the shop. And you.”

  “Oh,” I say, shocked by his words. “Me?”

  “Yes, you . . . I don’t want a fling, Ivy.” I love his serious voice. It’s deep, calming, and permanent. He doesn’t ever lie or say something he doesn’t mean, and I admire that about him more than anything else.

  “I don’t, either,” I answer, hoping he can feel that I mean my words just as much as he does.

  We stay for the rest of the set, and when the last song is played, he nuzzles into my neck and whispers in my ear, “Let’s go. I need to be alone with you.”

  He’s like wildfire on the drive back to his place, playing metal music on the radio and tapping his hands on the wheel. It’s obvious the music really gets him going and makes him feel alive. I don’t mind because I’m still replaying the night in my mind, trying to sort out my feelings; who he is, and what he does, makes me nervous. His work, his hobbies, and his passions all put him directly in front of women who want the novelty of a man like him. Sexy. Unique. Talented. Popular. Creative. Romantic.

  After losing my husband to another woman’s shameless sluttery, giving my heart to a man who has a target on his body and heart by probably several hundred women scares the ever loving shit out of me. Could I deal with it without feeling paranoid all the time?

  On the other hand, I’m extremely drawn to those unique aspects that make him so special. Watching him on stage and hearing his music was a total turn on, and that surprised me. It was a little bit exhilarating to know that so many of those women wanted him, but he was coming home with me. It made me feel special and wanted. It made me feel young again.

  Reaching across the car, he takes my hand and raises it to his lips, then rests our clasped hands together on my leg. “You’re quiet,” he says, over the music. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m great. I was just thinking about how amazing you were tonight. And Evie loved the song Storm sang to her. She was really touched by it.”

  “I was hoping you would like it. Maybe Storm’s plan of wooing Evie worked.”

  I smile over at him and tighten my fingers around his. “I’m pretty sure it did. It was a really sweet song, just like you.”

  He chews his lip ring for a few seconds, then glances at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I’m not always sweet and quiet, Ivy.”

  The tone in his voice is now deeper, mysterious, and dark, making my stomach do a slow flip.

  I lick my lips nervously, because I love my sweet Lukas and can’t imagine him any other way. “Okay,” I murmur, but I’m not sure he hears me because he doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. He just holds my hand and nods his head to the rock music thumping from his stereo.

  Earlier, I told him Macy was staying over at a friend’s house, and he knows that Tommy is with Paul this weekend, thus leaving me free for the entire night.

  Free to not go home.

  Free to stay at his place.

  Free to sleep with him.

  Free to be . . . free.

  CHAPTER 15

  IVY

  HE OPENS my car door and then puts his arm around me, protecting me from the cold air as we walk across the dark parking lot to his house. Snow flurries are falling softly as he unlocks the door and lets us in.

  Helping me off with my coat, he also removes my lace jacket and lays them on the wooden bench in the foyer by the d
oor.

  I shake the snow off my head, laughing. “I didn’t know we were supposed to get sn—”

  I’m cut off by him grabbing me around the waist, spinning me around, and pushing me up against the wall. His hand fists my hair, pulling my head to the side, my cheek pressed against the stone wall. His body engulfs mine, his muscular chest pressed against my back, his hard cock against my ass, his thighs flush to the back of mine. I feel trapped between his body and the stone wall of his foyer, and I relish in it, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. I want to be in his prison.

  “Put your hands on the wall.” His voice is breathless and raspy, just above a whisper in my ear. A shiver trots down my spine, but I do as he says, simply because he told me to. And right here, in this moment, with his beautiful hard body against mine, his hand tangled in my hair, I would do anything he asked of me. I press my palms against the wall—the wall that was once a church.

  “Ask me why I live in a church,” he says, as if reading my mind, gathering more of my hair in his hand and gently pulling it all away from my face and neck.

  “Why do you live here?” I ask breathlessly.

  “So you can worship every . . . fucking . . . inch . . . of me.” He grinds his hips against my ass with each word, making every hard inch of him very known.

  Oh, shit. Sweet Lukas has left the building.

  “And I plan to do the same to you, doll.”

  He touches his lips against the side of my neck, while his free hand goes to my waist, holding me as he begins an oral assault like I have never imagined. He moves his mouth down to the side of my throat, kissing, sucking, and nipping at my flesh, slowly dragging his tongue down to my collarbone. He continues raining more kisses upon me, tugging my hair, forcing my head to arch back more so he can lick and suck my exposed neck like a hungry vampire, the piercings on his lip and tongue flicking over my flesh. I practically go limp against his body, the feel of his warm, wet lips intoxicating me, rendering me drunk and woozy.

  Pushing my silk top up until it’s bunched up at my shoulders, his lips come down on my bared back, kissing and licking between my shoulder blades, igniting warm tingles throughout my entire body. I feel him unhooking my bra, the fabric falling to my sides, and his tongue slithers down my spine, slowly tasting me, until he’s kneeling behind me, kissing the small of my back. Letting go of my hair, he grabs the waist of my jeans in his hands and pulls them down, along with my panties, in one swift yank, making me gasp. They pool around my ankles, leaving me naked against the wall. I’ve never been so incredibly exposed, and I’m caught some place between incredibly flustered and wildly excited.

  “Lukas . . .”

  “Shhh . . . trust me, and you won’t walk out of here the same, baby.”

  His hands slowly caress my thighs, while his lips travel over my hip, then down further, kissing my buttocks, lightly nipping me, making me jump.

  “Turn around,” he whispers, his hands on my hips, guiding me around, leaving me no choice but to turn to him. I lean my back and head against the wall, lightheaded, and look down at him, kneeling in front of me like a sexual God, his eyes glazed and full of smoky desire and passion. My God, he actually wants me. Me.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says, skimming his hands up my calves, then up my thighs, and finally resting on my hips. Leaning forward, he kisses my stomach—my most hated part of myself. I reach down and try to pull his head away, but he grabs my hands and holds them to my sides while he continues to kiss my stomach.

  “There’s no part of you I don’t want,” he says, and I lean back and close my eyes, trying to quell my insecurities and just lose myself in him and his touch. Letting go of my hands, he slides his palms down my hips and to my thighs, gently pushing my legs apart as far as my jeans around my ankles will allow. I feel his lips encompass my clit, flicking his tongue slowly over that tiny sensitive spot before sucking it into his mouth. My entire body lurches from the unexpected shock of pleasure, but he holds me still with his hands and pushes his face between my thighs, running his tongue along my pink flesh, parting my lips. His mouth feels incredible, so warm and wet, and my legs go weak as he licks me, my pussy quivering, aching for more of him.

  Standing, he drags his hands up my body and rests them on my neck, lightly squeezing while kissing me long and deep, possessing me, his tongue dancing with mine.

  “I’m taking you upstairs,” he growls between kisses. “And I don’t plan on letting you out for a long time. So if you don’t want this, please stop me now.”

  My breath catches in my throat. Only Lukas would say please in the middle of an insanely sexy sentence and still make it hot as hell. I shake my head. No. Don’t ever stop.

  “Nuh uh,” he says. “No nodding or head shakes. Tell me what you want.” He runs his thumb across my lower lip, his dark eyes locked on to mine. “I want to hear you say it.”

  I swallow and try to remember how to make words. “I want you.”

  He picks me up and carries me past Ray, who squawks at us as Lukas carries me up the stairs then down the hall to his bedroom, laying me down on his king-sized bed. Rock music is coming from hidden speakers, the deep bass sound thumping in time with my heart. To the right of the bed, the flames of an electric fireplace bathe the room in an orange glow.

  I lie motionless and soundless on his black comforter, as he pulls off my shoes and the rest of my clothes, then stands at the foot of the bed just looking at me like he’s memorizing me. Finally, he backs up a few steps and starts to undress himself, watching me watch him. He moves slowly and deliberately, a private seductive strip tease just for me. I envy his confidence as he peels off his clothes, revealing his perfectly sculpted body, adorned with black tattoos that seem to cover eighty percent of his body. Watching him undress is like watching someone unwrap a beautiful surprise gift, not knowing exactly what’s inside but not caring because the journey to get to the reveal is just as special as the gift itself.

  His bedroom is magnificent with its cathedral ceiling, wood beams, and massive stained glass windows. Lukas standing naked at the center of it, beneath a huge black metal crucifix on the wall, entices a mix of feelings deep within me. He is dark and light, an angel fallen and lost, sinfully sweet, dirty and damaged from the descent. I want him on me, in me, beside me. I want to breathe him into me and never exhale. I am completely enraptured by him.

  He moves slowly toward the bed, his hard cock leading the way, his eyes locked on to mine. Crawling on top of me, he lowers his naked body onto mine and leans up on his arms, looking down at me, wisps of his silky hair falling into my face like a black waterfall.

  “Do you think you could love me?” My chest tightens hearing the raw emotion in his voice. Buried in this beautiful erotic man, there still lives an abandoned little boy who believes he’s unloved. Unwanted. It breaks my heart in two, not just as a mother, but as the woman who cherishes this man’s heart so much already.

  I reach up and move his hair to the side, so I can see his eyes more clearly.

  “Lukas, I could definitely love you.” I swallow hard, afraid to say too much, but even more afraid to not say enough when he needs it. “I feel like I’ve already loved you, and now my heart’s just waking up, remembering how.”

  “That’s exactly how it feels.” His voice is low as he slides his hand down my body, between us, between my legs. His fingers glide over my wet lips before one slowly slides into me. He sucks in a breath and kisses my mouth, breathing against my lips.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks, his finger swirling around inside me, making me delirious.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve never had sex without a condom before. Ever. I want to be inside you. I don’t want to keep taking it off and putting another one on to start over. I want to make love to you without any interruptions.”

  I stare up at him for a few minutes. I didn’t know people talked about stuff like this, and to be honest, it’s something I hadn’t even thought about. Eighteen years o
f marriage will put you in the dark about these things. But, I know Lukas wouldn’t lie to me or do anything to hurt me. I trust him.

  “It’s okay . . . I won’t get pregnant. I’m on birth control.”

  He nods. “Are you okay with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you,” he whispers and kisses me into sweet oblivion. He thanked me.

  He moves down my body, kissing my breasts, his tongue circling my nipple, dragging his lip ring over it, making it harden before sucking it into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive flesh and sending jolts of pleasure down to my core. I squeeze my thighs around his hand, wanting more of everything.

  He lifts his head and grins deviously down at me. “I’m gonna let you decide, baby.” He bends down and kisses me between my breasts, then drags his tongue up to my throat, gently biting me there.

  “Decide?” I repeat.

  “I can kiss you everywhere and slowly make you fuckin’ crazy until you beg for me, or I can just bury my cock in you right now and ravish the rest of you after you’re done coming all over me.”

  “Oh,” I reply absently, my voice trembling. I almost had an orgasm just hearing him dirty talk while his finger lazily slides in and out of me, lulling me seductively.

  “Oh?” he teases, pressing his body hard against mine, his hot, long length resting against my thigh. Sweet Jesus.

  I wrap my arms around him and slide my hands down his back. “Do the bury thing,” I say breathlessly.

  Pulling his hand out from between my thighs, he grabs my leg and lifts it up around his waist, while at the same time plunging his cock deep into me in one smooth, hard motion.

  I let out a small cry that’s a myriad of surprise, pleasure, and pain, and he stills on top of me, unmoving, just holding himself inside me. He feels perfect, like he was made to be right where he is now. I close my eyes and hold my breath, savoring every part of him—how he feels, how he smells, how he tastes, how his breathing sounds. He’s incredible. Never have I felt this way, and I probably never will again. Brushing my hair aside with his hand and cupping my cheek, he kisses my face softly.