Making Him Wait: (A Light BSDM, Sexy and Short Romance) (Beg Book 1)
Page 2
I was relieved when Luke finally snagged a cart and told me to follow him to the mystery and large print section. People were certain to be around us, and I couldn’t feel so distracted then. I was right to a certain extent—the lower floor of the library was scattered with a handful of patrons browsing the shelves, and the computer area was packed. But when we emerged from the elevator onto the second floor, I found myself swallowing nervously. This area was practically abandoned, and the taller shelves hid any other people from sight.
My heart sank even further when we entered the large print room. It was a small stuffy area in the back corner of the library, dimly lit and essentially hidden from any outside eyes. There was one person inside—a small, rotund old lady with the largest glasses I’d ever seen—but she left as we walked in, grinning indulgently at Luke and I like we were a couple or something.
I had no idea why anyone would think that, except… why are you here, then? whispered my conscience. The books provided an easy escape. I clutched at a stack and started walking towards the bookshelf when Luke stopped.
“Where are you going?”
“Um, to shelve these.”
“Come with me. I like to start at the end of the alphabet and go up, and I need to show you how to shelve.”
Why was that weirdly endearing? His deep voice had a no-nonsense quality about it, even if it sounded cheerful, and I mutely followed him to the back corner.
He handed me a book, and I found my gaze drawn to his strong hands. I’d always had a weird thing about guys’ hands, and these were really good ones. Luke’s fingernails were clean and neatly trimmed, and he had strong, thick elongated fingers. It looked like he could easily enclose my whole fist in his hand. I tried not to think about what he could do to me with those hands, but my pulse accelerated nonetheless.
His index finger tapped the label on the spine of the book. “Read it, Ava,” he said as he leaned in even closer, to where I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin.
“Um, ‘Young, Eric.’”
“Okay, where does it go?” His words brushed warm air against my temple.
“Um…” I forced myself to breathe and found ‘York, Dianna’ and ‘Young, Thomas.’ I stuck the book in quickly and jumped away, getting a safe distance away from Luke’s muscular torso and full lips. I remembered far too well how intoxicating those lips were against my own.
Luke laughed, a quiet chuckle that was almost just a catch of air in his throat. “Come back. I’m not going to bite you. Well, I might, but I won’t hurt you.”
My head shook stubbornly. “I’m fine over here.”
“You’re not done shelving.” His long stride covered the distance between us in two steps, and a heavy, firm arm landed around my shoulders. Luke guided me back to the spot on the shelf and settled firmly behind me, so close I could feel my backside pressed against his snug jeans. My breathing sped up again, and this time I couldn’t control it.
I stood frozen, fighting an overwhelming desire to be kissed again. No. Not going to let it happen. I hadn’t even known Luke for twenty-four hours. His hand reached over my shoulder, and I prayed he wasn’t going to touch me. I’d be lost then.
Instead, he reached to the bookend and wiggled it away. “The first thing is to make sure the books aren’t squeezed too tight, or the bindings will be damaged.” It was a totally innocent statement, but he whispered it intimately into my ear, and my groin tightened at the warmth of his breath.
“Okay.” My voice shook.
“Then, you have to move the books so they all sit two inches back from the edge of the shelf.” He demonstrated, his left arm coming around my other side as one palm made an edge for the books to be moved against and the other pushed them forward.
I was trapped between his strong arms or I might have run then. He made every rational thought flee from my head in a dangerous way.
“You try.” His damp breath brushed against my neck and left a tingling trail behind. As if this wasn’t distraction enough, Luke proceed to grab each of my hands in his own and guide me through the book-straightening movement. The entire length of his body was pressed against my back, radiating heat that burned straight through my silky shirt and blue jeans.
“By the way, you smell amazing,” he whispered softly. I let out a little gasp. This time, his lips were actually against my ear, not just close. At my noise of reaction, he pulled my ear lobe between his lips and suckled it.
“You didn’t have to get so dressed up just for me… I’m sure you’re beautiful in anything.” ‘Anything’ became a wicked promise when I felt his hot tongue slip out and lave the upper curve of my ear.
I found my voice. “W-w-what do you mean?”
Bad idea. Luke’s hand spread across my upper stomach, and a thumb stroked tantalizingly over the base of my breast. I squirmed in desperation, but he continued the movement as he spoke.
“This shirt, and your wonderful perfume… I have a feeling you didn’t put these on until I asked you to meet me.”
My face burned at the accuracy of this, and I searched out a small bit of willpower. “Stop,” I gasped. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
Luke stopped moving, but his hand stayed frozen where it was. “What kind of girl are you?” he murmured.
“A—a third date kind of girl.”
He abruptly dropped his hand and stepped away from me entirely. I reeled in sudden disappointment, but this was what I had wanted. I’d been expecting to see irritation, but Luke was still smiling at me.
“Okay. I’ll stop trying—as long as you’re 100% sure you don’t want kissed right now.”
My lips parted and I found myself unable to speak. I cursed my own weakness, but when Luke’s hand cradled the back of my neck and pulled me closer I gave myself over whole-heartedly. I wanted to blame this on him, but it was obvious that I was the one kissing him, pushing my body up against his, and gasping in desire. Luke wasn’t unaffected—his breathing had acquired a ragged edge, but he held back somehow. At last he set his hands on my shoulders and pulled me back.
“You aren’t this kind of girl, remember?” With a kiss on my brow, Luke turned and quickly shelved the rest of the book cart. I followed along lamely, straightening the books behind him and feeling utterly mortified. He made small talk, which gradually eased into a real conversation, and I stayed far away from the magnetic pull of his lean body.
We were midway through a second cart when, much to my embarrassment, a loud growl announced itself from my stomach. I briefly considered hiding behind a shelf—one more embarrassment was not what I needed—but Luke was smiling kindly at me.
“You should go eat,” he said. “I need to get some things done at home, so I’m done here too. Let’s just finish up the last of these books.”
“Oh.” I was surprised and maybe even disappointed that he didn’t want to hang out for longer. “Um, yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
When Luke found out that I’d walked, he insisted on driving me home. His car was a 1965 black Ford Mustang and it smelled delicious, like a mix of old leather and Luke’s cologne. Other than the small part of me that expected a Cadillac—and maybe a scary bodyguard inside—I thought it suited him somehow. When we got to my building, instead of just kicking me out at the curb, Luke parked and insisted on walking me up.
I spent the entire way up the stairs tingling in anticipation. I was going to turn him down again, but I told myself I could kiss him without risking my heart or body too much. But when we reached my door, Luke brushed a quick kiss against my cheek and turned to go, just like that. I stood there forlorn for a moment, until he glanced up the stairs at me with an amused smile. This spurred my hurried entrance into the apartment, though I tried to make it look carefree.
It seemed very empty inside. The clock ticked loudly and, on cue, my stomach growled again into the silence. I busied my hands with the preparation of a sandwich, gathering ingredients, cutting cheese, spreading mustard, and trying really ha
rd to not think about Luke.
I was determined not to fantasize about him anymore. I knew, absolutely knew, that he only wanted one thing. Sure, it was flattering, and we had loads of chemistry, but I already found myself liking him far too much to deal with the sting of being hit and then quit. Luke was too dangerous and too pretty to get caught up with.
Well, pretty was the wrong word. He had more of a rugged charm, with those toned muscles and that mussed hair. Somehow I found myself ignoring my food and picturing his sexy half-smile. Dammit. I turned on the TV, trying to find a distraction to no avail.
The afternoon passed without me calling or texting Luke’s number with a plea to come tear my clothes off, but honestly, it took all I had. Eventually, I gave up on TV and cleaned the house instead. At least there was nothing romantic or sexy about floor mopping.
Just after sunset, a knock came on the door. I figured it was my neighbor Berta asking for help with her TV as usual, so I opened the door with mop in hand. My stomach plummeted. It was Luke, standing there in gray slacks that clung to strong thighs, and a white dress shirt that had the top two buttons undone.
“Hey, Ava,” he said. Leaving me wondering for a second as to when I’d merited a nickname. “Put on something nice.”
My hormone-drunk mind slipped suddenly into a state of irritation. “And why shouldn’t you change into something not-nice and help me clean instead?”
Luke stepped inside without waiting for me to move, putting his body within touching distance, and closed the door. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was so urgent that you couldn’t take a break,” he murmured. “I’m sure I could just slip these off and do some mopping.” His fingers quickly undid the clasp at the top of his slacks.
I fled, calling behind me. “I’ll find a dress!”
The dark red cocktail dress that I finally decided on was an old favorite, though I hadn’t had a chance to wear it in years. It was strapless, and it clung prettily to the curve of my waist and hips without being too sexy. I clipped my hair half back and brushed on an extra coat of mascara before heading nervously back to my kitchen.
I found Luke sitting on the couch, flipping through an outdoors magazine. He stood when I walked in and met my eyes with a smile that made my knees go weak.
“Does this work?” I asked softly.
“Oh yes,” he answered. “You look gorgeous.”
I blushed and stayed a safe distance away as he opened the door and ushered me out. Luke was the perfect gentleman while helping me into his car, but something glimmered in his eyes that was less than chivalrous. I was in way over my head, but I didn’t have the strength to tell him no.
“Where are we going?” I asked shyly as the car started to move.
“My apartment,” he said casually.
Wait, what? “Your apartment? Luke, I—“
He cut me off. “You’re letting me make you dinner. This morning you wouldn’t because you didn’t know me. But now you know me, so I get to make you dinner.”
“I don’t know about this,” I said darkly—but I didn’t tell him to take me home.
Luke’s apartment had an elevator and a doorman. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I might have been a little jealous, too. The carpet in the hallway was a plush, velvety red that I wanted to sink my toes into, and I focused on it as we walked to his door to avoid thinking about my nerves.
The décor was modern, minimalist, and somehow totally perfect. The matte concrete countertops and high end stainless steel appliances felt cool and sophisticated, but the plush black couch and matching rug kept the space cozy.
“Sit,” said Luke giving me a way too sexy grin.
I did. That way I didn’t have to stabilize the shaking of my nervous knees, and I could put some space between myself and this intimidatingly attractive man.
He disappeared into the kitchen, and I looked around so it didn’t seem like I was staring at his muscular frame. After only a minute or two, he returned with a plate of strawberries and two flutes of champagne.
“Really?” I asked sarcastically.
“What?” he said. “You don’t like champagne or strawberries?” His voice was a smooth, sexy purr, as though he knew very well that I did.
In fact, I loved champagne, and was a pretty big fan of the shiny red berries as well—but that wasn’t the point. “The point is,” I said, “that it’s overdone.”
“Did you ever think it’s overdone for a reason?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, so I just sat there mute and stubborn. Luke took a seat next to me and the couch dipped dangerously toward him. I felt like a rabbit frozen in the path of an oncoming train—but I couldn’t help admit that a ever-growing side of me liked it.
Luke picked up a strawberry, the biggest and juiciest of the lot. “Want one?” he asked.
He didn’t wait for an answer. His hand carried the berry slowly toward my lips, and I sat there unmoving except for the pounding of my heart. The red tip reached my lips, but instead of entering my opened mouth, it paused. Luke dragged the fruit around my lips, caressing each inch with its cool tip, and I felt myself grow wicked and wanton. My eyes glazed and my breathing sped up as Luke leaned in very close.
“You don’t want a strawberry?” he asked. His voice was pure sex, and my stomach quivered.
“I—I want—“
“Yes?” he purred when no answer was forthcoming.
I blushed. “I don’t know what I want.”
Luke popped the strawberry into his mouth, chewed two, three times, and then swallowed. “Oh, yes you do,” he said smugly. “You know very well what you want, even if you won’t admit it. And what’s more, I know too.”
I gulped at my glass of champagne, jumping when Luke suddenly leaned over me. He had a hand sinking into the cushion on each side of my head, and his brown eyes were close enough to get lost in.
“Ask me to kiss you,” he ordered.
“N-no,” I stuttered.
Luke moved even closer until his lips were a hairs-breadth from mine. I ached with desperate desire. “Ask. Me. To. Kiss. You.” His voice was dangerous and low.
I closed my eyes, but didn’t say anything. Fire burned through my body and I prayed that he’d make the decision for me.
“Ava,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “I can tell that you want it. I made you a promise that I wouldn’t do anything unless you asked for it. So ask.”
My dry lips parted without a conscious decision. “Please,” I gasped hoarsely.
“Please what?” Luke said harshly.
This was torture. “Please… please kiss me.”
His lips came down on mine before I could even draw another breath. Somehow, madly, this kiss was even better than the first or second one. Luke’s mouth fit against mine like we were made for one another, firm lips clinging and teasing and stoking the flames inside me to ever-greater heights. At some point, my arms threw themselves around his neck so I could pull myself up even closer. I couldn’t get enough of the silky feeling of his hot tongue or the warmth of his torso against mine.
As always, he was the one who broke away from me. This was turning into an embarrassing habit.
I was still trying to catch my breath when he tossed a bit of sexual innuendo my way.
“Main course is soon to come,” he said, winking at me as he headed back into the kitchen.
I tried to process what had just happened, lips still swollen and tingling. Something about Luke made me absolutely shameless. He knew we were going to have sex. I knew we were going to have sex. No! I clung to my reservations. This couldn’t happen. I liked this guy too much already. I wasn’t going to risk having my heart stomped on.
Feeling like I was making a terrible decision, I grabbed my purse and moved toward the door on unsteady legs.
Luke appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel and looking concerned. “Ava, where are you going?” He moved toward me quickly.
“I’m leaving. This was a bad idea.”
I backed up quickly, feeling absurd but not wanting caught up in his magnetic pull again. I couldn’t think when he got close to me. For every step I took backward, Luke took two toward me. My breathing had sped up again in an odd combination of panic and arousal. I didn’t want him to touch me, but I totally did.
“Cass, why do you keep trying to get away from me?”
Luke’s words almost distracted me from the fact that we had passed through the living room and were headed into an area that I hadn’t seen yet.
I was mid-answer, saying, “Because… I know exactly what you want. I don’t want to get hurt—” when I realized we were in a dark room. Right then the back of my knees collided with the edge of something and I fell on top of it. A bed. I’d landed on a bed.
“You think I only want one thing?” There was frustration in Luke’s tone, and when he flipped on a light switch I realized he was frowning. It was the first time I’d actually seemed to bother him.
I started to sit up, hoping to apologize. “No,” said Luke in a low growl. “You stay right there. I’m done with you running away.”
Frozen, I watched him move to a dark wood dresser and reach into a drawer. “What are you doing?” I asked in a breathless voice.
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, he turned and walked back to the bed. I realized he had two neckties in his hands.
“Give me your wrist,” he said.
“What?” I was high pitched and startled.
“Ava, I’m sick of you fleeing every time things start to heat up. It would be one thing if you didn’t want it, but it’s obvious that you want it desperately. This time you’re staying here and we’re seeing this through.”