by Carian Cole
She throws her arms around me and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. “I hate that someone hurt you, Lukas.”
I hug her back. “It’s all right. Shit happens. I’m okay now, really.”
She turns her face into my neck, and I feel her tears against my skin. “It’s not okay. You’re an amazing person. I love your heart so much. I don’t ever want you to feel pain like that again.”
I love your heart.
“Well, with any luck, I won’t ever feel that way again.” I pull her away from me so I can see her face. “But I don’t want you held hostage over this, Ivy. If you have to leave me someday, then you have to. You can’t stay just because you’re afraid to hurt me or that I might hurt myself. I wouldn’t do that. I just kinda wanted to be sure you were over Paul before we got more involved, because, fuck yeah, it would hurt to lose you.”
I wipe the tears off her cheeks with my thumb, and she leans forward and kisses my lips really softly, like she’s trying to kiss it all away for me.
“I’m over Paul,” she says between kisses. “I’m falling for you pretty fast and hard, though, and it’s scary. I wasn’t expecting any of this . . . you, the age difference, the band . . .”
Leaning back onto the floor and pulling her on top of me, I move her hair over to one shoulder so I can kiss her neck. “None of that matters, Ivy. All that matters is how we treat each other, right?”
“You’re right.”
“And how we make each other feel.” I gently bite her neck, my hands sliding down to her waist.
“Yes.”
“And right now, I want to feel you come on my mouth.”
I love the little gasp of surprise that she makes. “Lukas—”
I pull my t-shirt up over her head and throw it across the room, liking the fact that she keeps putting my sweaty clothes on her body.
“Your shyness is adorable, doll, but you should know it only makes me want to do dirty things to you. You’ve waited way too long to be fucked and loved the right way.” I yank her panties off and throw those, too. “I’m gonna leave the choice up to you again.” I kiss her breasts and slide my hands down her body. “You’re either gonna sit in that chair over there, and I’m gonna eat you like a Chinese buffet, or you’re gonna sit on my face and ride my tongue like a cowgirl.”
“Holy shit, Lukas,” she whispers.
“Choose or I’ll do it for you.” I suck her nipple into my mouth and flick my tongue over it, her breath quickening.
“Buffet,” she says breathlessly, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I stand and carry her over to the red velvet, antique chair in the corner of my room. “Damn,” I tease. “I was hoping to be a pony today.” I sit her down in the chair, secretly loving the shocked look on her face as she watches me kneel in front of her and spread her legs.
Sitting back on my heels, I enjoy the view of her spread in front of me, her creamy pale thighs taut, her long hair flowing down her chest, her nipples peeking out. She looks incredibly beautiful and sensual, every part of her waiting for me. I’d love to take a picture of her like this and draw her this way.
“For God’s sake, Lukas, don’t stare at it,” she says, turning eighty shades of red. I slide my finger slowly down her slit, watching as a tiny drop of moisture drips from her. I lean forward and lap it up, and she jumps, grabbing my head.
“Jesus!” she exclaims, her body bucking up toward me.
“You can call me that, baby. We’re in my church, after all.”
Grabbing her legs, I lift them and rest them on my shoulders, turning my head to lick and kiss her thigh, feeling her muscles quaking.
I lick her lips slowly, my tongue gently sliding between her folds, exploring her sweetness. Spreading her with my hands, I delve into her, swirling my tongue inside her, using my tongue and lip piercings to rub against her sensitive spots, making her quiver against my lips. Pushing one, then two fingers slowly inside her, I drag my tongue up to play with her clit, licking her in circles, slow at first and then faster, as I feel her body pushing against my face. I know she’s trying to fight it, but she can’t. Sucking her little bud into my mouth, I piston my fingers in and out of her faster, her hands grasping my hair, her hips thrusting against my face, finally letting herself go and giving in to the pleasure. She starts to moan, and I suck her delicate flesh harder, shaking my head, devouring her as her thighs tighten around me. Soon, she’s shaking and whimpering, pulling my hair, coming all over my tongue and face, driving me wild for her with her little squeals.
My cock is rock hard in my jeans, and I want to beg her to suck me, but I have a feeling she’s not ready for that just yet, especially with her strange mouth-and-fork fetish. Instead, I quickly unbutton my jeans, yank the zipper down, grab my throbbing cock, and thrust it into her as she’s still coming.
“Oh my God,” she moans, wrapping her legs around my waist. She’s so hot and wet around me that I only get a few deep thrusts in before I’m coming inside her, all my control lost.
“Fuck,” I gasp, grabbing her neck and pulling her to me for a deep kiss. I literally want to devour this woman with my mouth and my cock.
We kiss long and slow, as our panting subsides and our brains defog. She rubs my back in slow circles and kisses me softly, lovingly, on my lips, face, and neck, as we come down from post-orgasm bliss. It feels like Heaven.
Fuck me; I am so falling for this girl. I’m done. Stick a fork in me.
Ivy told me during one of our epic text conversations over the Christmas holiday that she never gets to relax on weekends because she’s always doing laundry, cleaning the house, and taking care of the kids, so I make sure we spend the rest of the day relaxing. I lure her into the shower with me and give her a nice soapy massage, shampoo her hair, and bundle her up in one of the band sweatshirts. Asher had this idea few months ago to print funny hashtags on the sweatshirts and t-shirts for each guy in the band, and mine says #worshipme.
Ivy reads it on the sweatshirt and raises her eyebrow at me. “Do I even want to know what this means?” she asks.
“It’s just a joke. Vandal’s says #getvandalized, which is way worse.”
She giggles. “Definitely. So far, you’ve been worshipping me . . . soon, I’m going to have to worship you,” she says, peeking up at me.
Yes. Now. On your knees.
“Whenever you’re ready, doll. The church of Lukas is only for you.”
She shakes her head at me. “I can’t even. I’m just gonna let that go for now.”
We spend the rest of the day relaxing, sitting by the fire in the living room, cuddling, and trying to make Ray forget the bad words he heard by talking about my antiques.
“Is it weird I feel sad that I have to leave?” she asks when it’s time for me to drive her home.
“If it is, then we’re both weird, because I don’t want you to go. Keep my sweatshirt, please. I like how it looks on you.”
She smiles at me as she grabs her coat and purse while I find my car keys. “Thank you. I had the best time, really.” She looks longingly at me, and I hate that I have to take her home, but Paul is dropping Tommy off at her house soon.
I hug her in the hallway by the door before we leave. “I did, too. I don’t want you to go. When can I see you again?”
“Soon . . . let me do some thinking. I have Tommy next weekend.”
“You can bring him here. I don’t mind at all. I have room for him. You can both stay. I have an Xbox, and I can get him anything he wants so he has fun here.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”
“I could come to your place,” I suggest.
She takes a deep breath. “That’s even worse. I don’t know how to do this.”
“Babe, it’s okay. There’s no rule book. If you want me in your life, I have to be around your kids, and I want to be. I hope you believe that. I don’t want to only see you when Paul has Tommy. That’s every other weekend. Don’t do that to us.”
> She nods. “I know . . . you’re right. Just let me think about the best way to do this. I promise I will. I don’t want to only see you every other weekend. I want more than that.”
I lead her out and lock the door behind us. “I hope so.”
When I drop her off at her house, I’m worried about Paul confronting her when he brings Tommy home. What if he starts a fight with her?
I grab her arm before she gets out of my car. “Ivy, I have to tell you something.”
“Okay . . .”
“Paul was at my house this morning. I found him in the parking lot when I went to get us coffee.”
“What?” she shouts. “What was he doing there? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Yikes. She’s pissed.
“He said he used some GPS app to find your phone, and it took him right to my fucking house.”
“Shit. Did you talk to him?”
“Yeah, he was in my parking lot. I thought he was a customer or something, but then he said he was looking for you.”
“Oh my God. What’s wrong with him?”
“Fuck if I know. Anyway, I told him you were inside, so he knows you were with me. He seemed really pissed off, kept calling you his wife. I’m a little worried about him starting with you when he gets here with Tommy.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh and stares out the window. “You should have told me,” she says pointedly.
“I know. I just didn’t want to upset you and ruin our day. He didn’t text you about it, so I figured he was embarrassed and didn’t want you to know he was stalking you.”
“Ugh. Well, I’m sorry he showed up at your place. You shouldn’t have to deal with that. But, I want you to tell me things like this from now on.”
“All right. Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad at you. I just don’t know what’s wrong with him. He got what he wanted, so now he needs to leave me alone. This wasn’t my choice. It was his.”
Her words cut in to me, ramping up my paranoia that he wants her back and may be able to sway her into letting him back in. Sensing this, she turns to me. “Lukas, being with you is my choice. I’m just saying, he’s the one that left to begin with. I was happy . . . or I thought I was.” She leans across the car and kisses my cheek. “Don’t worry. I had an amazing weekend with you. Let’s just take things one day at a time, okay? Don’t worry about him coming over here. He’s not the yelling, fighting type.”
No, he’s just the stalking type.
“All right. I don’t want him on my property again, though. If Vandal catches him creeping around, it’s not going to be pretty.”
“I’m sure he won’t be doing that again.”
“Will you call me or text me later? Let me know everything is okay?”
“Yes, of course I will.”
I give her a long kiss before letting her go. “I’m crazy about you, Ivy. I really want this.” I hug her close to me, burying my face in her hair, liking that her hair smells like my shampoo, as if she’s part of me.
“I do, too,” she murmurs. “Your persistence worked.”
CHAPTER 17
IVY
MY ANGER at Paul gets worse as I prepare dinner for the kids and wait for him to drop Tommy off. How dare he track me and show up at Lukas’ place? Talk about a total invasion of my privacy and just all around juvenile behavior.
“Mom, are you wearing an Ashes & Embers hoodie?” Macy asks, coming into the kitchen.
Oh, crap. I completely forgot that I’m still wearing it and that she would recognize the band logo.
“Yes, I went to their concert last night,” I say nonchalantly, hoping she’ll get distracted by her cell phone as usual and not zero in on me.
She practically leaps across the room. “Are you kidding me right now? Why didn’t you ask me to go? That show was totally sold out! You don’t even like that kind of music!”
I take a deep breath, knowing I’m falling deeper into the hole I’ve dug and just have to come clean.
“Okay, honey, I have to tell you something. You know the tattoo artist, the guy that fixed our shed?”
“Yeah.” She nods excitedly. “The hottie with the body.”
“His name is Lukas, and he took me to the concert. He’s in the band—”
“Holy shit, Mom!” she shrieks. “Lukas Valentine? That was him?” I thought he looked familiar!”
I take a step back and lean against the kitchen counter. “Yes, that’s him. I didn’t know he was in the band. ”
“He’s new, Mom! He just plays these amazing solos on their new album. This shit is crazy!”
“Macy, stop swearing and yelling.” I rub my temples. Her voice is going straight through my brain and making my head hurt.
She looks at me like I’m crazy and flops dramatically into one of the chairs at the table. “I’m totally freaking out! I mean, what the hell! He’s like, twenty, Mom! And he’s hot. You don’t like hot guys.”
I add some pasta to the boiling water, trying not to think about Lukas naked on top of me, with all those muscles and tattoos and long hair. I definitely like hot guys.
“Macy, he’s twenty-four, and of course I like attractive men.”
“Yeah, but not like him! You like boring old guys like Dad.”
Stirring the pasta, I try to think of a decent reply without bashing Paul. “There’s more to men than looks, and your father is really not old at all. He’s only thirty-seven. Lukas is a nice guy. He’s extremely talented. He has his own business, and he’s very polite and thoughtful.”
She rolls her eyes. “Mom! Get serious! Nobody thinks of those things when they look at someone like him!”
“Well, they should. He’s a person, not an object.”
“A sexy person. I hafta tell Shelly. She’s going to freak out.” She whips out her cell phone and starts typing, but I grab it away from her.
“No. This isn’t a game, Macy. I don’t want you gossiping with your friends about my relationships.”
She stares up at me. “Oh, wow. Are you like serious with him? Like Dad and Charlene?”
Ugh. What a terrible comparison. I think Paul’s interest in Charlene is entirely based on her looks and has nothing to do with what kind of person she is, but I’m definitely not going to tell our daughter that.
“Yes, I think it could get serious. I need you to be an adult about this, Macy, please. This isn’t easy for me, but I really do like him, and I want you and Tommy to meet him and hopefully like him.”
“Mom? Hello? I did meet him, and I flirted with him right in our back yard.”
“I know . . .”
She chews her lip and looks at me guiltily. “I’m sorry. So awkward. I had no idea. I wouldn’t have acted like a hookah with him if I knew you liked him.”
“I don’t even know what that means, but you shouldn’t be acting like that with anyone.”
I stir the pasta again and take several deep breaths. I think I’m going to need a Valium to get through the rest of this night.
“Mom, stuff is crazy lately. It’s like we’re in some reality show or something. First, Dad takes off with the gum scraper, and now, you’re dating a rock star. I’m waiting for a camera crew to start following me around.”
“Honey, I want things to be normal, or as close as they can be. Lukas is really just a regular guy who happens to be related to a bunch of rock stars who used his talents for a few songs. Being with him isn’t going to change me or make anything crazy.”
“You’re wearing a rock band shirt with the hashtag worshipme, Mom. That’s kinda crazy. Just sayin’.”
I strain the pasta and put it in a serving dish, visions of Lukas ravishing me up against his church wall playing through my head.
“Macy, please, I really want your support and understanding with this. As you can see, I’m totally out of my element with, him but I really do like him. He makes me happy.”
“Well, that’s obvious. When Dad was here, you hardly ever smiled. Ever since your
tattoo appointments, you’ve been smiling and dressing nicer, and you seem much happier. If you’re happy, I’m happy. I’m totally jelly you have a hot boyfriend and I don’t, though,” she teases. “It’s kinda nice to have a cool mom.” She gets up and hugs me. “I love you. I’m glad you’re happy.”
I hug her back, hoping my daughter and I will be best friends someday, like I dreamed about when I was only eighteen and pregnant. I wanted her more than anything in the world.
“I love you, too.”
She’s quiet for a few minutes as she sets the table. “Did you meet Talon?”
“Talon?” I repeat, putting sauce in a bowl.
“Yeah, he’s the guitarist. He has longish dirty blonde hair, and he’s wicked cute.”
Oh. The shirtless guy. “I didn’t actually talk to him, but I saw him. I only met briefly with Storm and Vandal.”
“Storm! Is he totally swoon-worthy in person?”
“He was very nice. Lukas seems close to him.”
“Well, Talon is my favorite. Lukas is the youngest, I think, and then Talon.”
We’re interrupted by the doorbell, which I finally talked Paul in to using, instead of just walking into the house whenever he felt like it. I didn’t feel like he had the right to do that anymore after he left us.
“I’ll go get Tommy,” Macy offers and disappears, but a few seconds later, she’s yelling down the hallway.
“Mom! Dad wants to talk to you!”
Great. I can feel another uncomfortable conversation coming on. I wash my hands and go out into the hall, where Paul is standing with the kids. “Go eat dinner while I talk to your father,” I say to them, giving Tommy a quick kiss hello as he walks by me.
“You colored your hair,” Paul says when they’re gone.
“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”