Temptations: A Limited Edition Contemporary Romance Collection
Page 45
“Oh, honey, there will be other jobs.” Victor put his hand on her shoulder.
“I got it.”
“What?” Victor clapped his hands together.
“I said, I got it!” Melia raised her head and grinned.
“Oh, girl. Tell me all about it.” He sat at the table, looking at her.
“Well, the patient’s name is Susan. Her husband is looking for an in-home aide for her end-of-life care.”
“Ooh, girl, that’s the best news I’ve gotten all day. When do you leave?”
Melia laughed. “This weekend.”
“Thank the lord, Jesus. Hallelujah!” Victor playfully nudged her.
“Whatever, you know you will miss me. Let’s celebrate.” Melia grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from the cupboard.
“Here’s to finally being able to bring some men home. Explaining why a lady friend is sleeping on the couch has not been easy.” They clinked their glasses and each took a sip. “Speaking of which, is the husband good looking?”
“Victor!”
“What? Honey, his wife is dying. He won’t be married for long!”
Melia rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible, Victor.”
“Well?”
“Yeah, he’s good looking. So what?”
“Well, with that attitude, you’re not getting anything from anybody.”
Melia looked into the wine glass and saw herself silhouetted in the dark liquid. “He’s got these beautiful blue eyes. And dark hair. This ‘just-fucked’ hair. But he’s got so much sorrow in his face. He seems to always be frowning.” The silence from across the table made her look up. Victor’s expression startled her. “What?”
“You got it baaad!”
“What? No!”
But Melia smiled inwardly at the thought.
3
Susan looked at Luka with that expecting expression he had grown to know so well throughout their relationship.
“I called.”
“Good,” she said and laid her head on his chest. He knew she was listening to his heartbeat, something she was fond of doing. She liked to say the sound was strong and steady, just like him. He was so deeply lost in thought he hadn’t realized she was reaching into his pajama bottoms.
He gently grasped her wrist and looked into her eyes.
“I want to,” she whispered, a hint of longing in her voice.
“But, you’re—”
“I’m fine. Is it that you don’t want me, anymore?”
Luka watched her large blue eyes fill with tears, and he squeezed her hand. He looked her over, from her closely cropped head to her pale but full lips. Luka shook his head. Though her traditional beauty had faded with her illness, she was still beautiful in her own way now. The tenderness he felt for her overwhelmed him.
“It’s not that. I just worry about you.”
“I’m fine.”
He nodded, and pulled her up against him. He kissed her softly at first and then firmly. She pressed her flattened chest against his. Her breasts used to be fuller but they had been reduced with her weight loss. His hands roamed haltingly over her body, caressing hard edges that had once been soft curves. It had been a long time since he had touched her for fear of hurting her.
Tenderly, he eased her onto her back and pinned her delicate wrists together swiftly tying them together. Luka kissed Susan’s forehead, kissed along her eyebrows, down the bridge of her nose. He showered her face with lingering kisses, down the line of her jaw. Susan’s breath caught in her in her throat as Luka kissed her neck, his pulse pounding. He trailed his fingers down her side, as he kissed her along her pronounced clavicles, pausing for a moment at her scarred chest. “Is this okay?”
“Green,” whispered Susan, panting with want.
“Green, what?”
“Green, master,” said Susan, she arched her back and moaned. Luka reached into the bedside table and grabbed a small switch he kept in their drawer of toys. He lightly tapped her thigh with it and she sighed. She struggled slightly against the hold he had on her wrists before sinking into the bed as he kissed the area where her breasts had been. He dipped his tongue into her belly button and let go of her hands. He kissed her thighs, and Susan trembled.
“Do you like it?” He breathed heavily into the space between her legs, and she moaned a yes. Luka whipped Susan’s thigh.
“Yes, master.”
“Then beg.”
“Please.”
He whipped her again.
“Please,” she said in between heavy moans, pushing her hips up to meet his hand as he rubbed her with his palm. A bead of sweat rolled down Susan’s face, and Luka frowned, pausing for a second. But she looked at him with desire, and Luka wanted so badly to give her what she needed. He hit her with the switch again.
“Please, please, please,” Susan clenched her eyes and pulled at her restraints. Luka straddled her, looking down at her. He kissed her and rubbed his hardness along her thigh, teasing her. Luka gently turned her onto her belly and fit her wrists into the restraints they had put into the posts of their bed many years before Susan’s sickness reached into even their bedroom.
Susan moaned and pulled against the shackles that bound her to their as Luka entered her. With each of his thrusts, he whipped her lightly; until they both collapsed breathing hard. Luka listened to the slow wheeze of Susan’s breath returning back to normal. He unbound her and pulled her frail body close. The cancer had made her bruise easily so he checked the already reddening patches around her wrists; the marks the switch had left on her would soon grow purple. He felt guilt, even though he had been as gentle as possible.
Susan must have noticed his silence for she caught his gaze, holding him as strongly as her weak body allowed. “It was fine, more than fine.” She squeezed him. “It’s what I wanted. You were soft with me. This”—she held up her wrists— “is not your fault.”
Luka’s eyes filled with tears he didn’t allow to fall.
Susan held his hands tight. “Don’t make me feel bad about this.”
Luka shook his head and pulled her head onto his chest. A few months were all Susan had left. This troubled Luka more than he told her, although she was perceptive and knew more than she told him. Luka had lived for Susan for as long as they had been together, had cared for her when she was sick, had given everything to bring her back from death’s door. It just wasn’t fair. He railed against God, against fate for giving him happiness and then taking it away. What would he do when she was gone? The thought was often too much to bear. Susan was dying. That was a fact. It was the only certainty in the future; it loomed over every aspect of his daily life. But what would happen after? They had no children. He feared that Susan, and any memory of her, would die with him and he’d lose her completely. All the future they had imagined, their kids, their happily ever after—gone. The tears stung Luka’s eyes and he no longer struggled against them. Susan slept, and Luka’s hot and long held back tears rushed down his face.
Melia noticed the dark circles under Luka’s eyes as she opened the door to Victor’s apartment. “Long night?” she asked with a smirk on her face. She had been expecting him to come and help her with some of her things but didn’t know he would be so moody.
Luka gave her a dark smile and continued down the hallway of the apartment. He stood in the kitchen, frowning, his blue eyes flashing, and Melia couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. “Is everything a joke, to you?”
Melia felt a flash of anger and embarrassment. “I wasn’t making a joke,” she snapped. “But if it’ll give you some solace, you won’t be staying up with your wife alone anymore.” She thought she detected mirth cross his face, but it was instantly replaced by his constant frown. She slammed a box of her things onto the kitchen table and squared off as Luka leaned against the doorway. He looked back into the hallway and saw the pictures of an attractive, well-built, dark man. His heart sank a bit.
“You’ll be missed, I guess.”
“You really didn’t have to come. I told you it wasn’t much.” Another move. Another unwritten chapter in an uncertain and volatile life. Always bouncing from one place to the next, never settling for long anywhere. There was always something that conspired against her. It had happened so often; she was beginning to question whether the only common denominator in it all — herself — might be the root cause of all of it. She let another sigh escape her tightly clamped lips.
“Do you ever feel like…your life, the journey, is one big boat lost in a sea of darkness? And all you’re doing is floating around with no guiding light, no clear destination and no way to get off the boat?”
He sat down across from her and glared at her.
“Yes. Every day,” he said, the frown on his face slowly fading away. “The hardest thing about having a sick wife — other than the sick wife part — is the waiting.” Luka rubbed his forehead and his eyes. He looked down at his hands in his lap. “You’re constantly waiting for her to die, because there’s nothing else to be done. And you can never get off this ride, not even after the death — because she’s my guiding light. Without her, I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.”
The silence hung thick between them for a moment.
“That’s my sob story. What’s yours?”
“Me? I don’t have one.” Melia shifted in her seat.
“Oh no? So what’s up with the sea afloat in darkness bit? Just waxing poetic?”
“I’m more than just a pretty face.” She batted her eyelashes at him and smiled wistfully. “Sob story? Ha! Where do I begin?” Melia shook her head hard. She got up and reached into the cupboard. Putting a cup of water in front of him, she steeled herself. “No sob story. What’s a sob story without happiness?” Luka looked at her quizzically and opened his mouth but Melia waved her hand to silence the conversation. “Well, aren’t we just the most cheerful of folks?” She laughed weakly. “I have that effect on people, I’m afraid. All the smiles disappear around me.”
“Well, with an attitude like yours, I’m not shocked.” A warm smile momentarily banished his perpetual frown
She scoffed playfully. “I’m not that bad once you get to know me. Some people would even say that I’m quite charming.” Luka rolled his eyes. “What? You doubt it? I am charming. Swatting the fellas away like flies.” She stood up and smiled brightly.
“You hide behind your sharp humor,” said Luka softly.
Melia froze.
He shook his head. “Don’t—don’t mind me. No judgment here. I hide too. When things get really hard and I feel the most lost, the most adrift…there’s this memory I have, from my childhood. When I was a kid, my parents took me to a fair. There were rides, a carousel, and loads of people. I got lost, separated from my family. I was so afraid. My mother told me I was missing for only half an hour but it seemed like an eternity,” Luka said, pausing for a moment.
“And that makes you feel better?” Melia frowned. “I mean, whatever floats your boat, man.”
Luka shook his head impatiently. “No, let me finish. Do you always jump to conclusions?”
“Only when people talk so slowly.” Melia rolled her eyes. “But I’m listening, go on.”
“Well, I sat behind a rock and prayed out into the world. I thought I would never be found, that I’d be lost there forever. I even cursed all of the moments I’d had fun, and wished I had never gone to the stupid fair.” Luka smiled. “But then my mother found me.”
Melia looked expectantly at Luka, but he didn’t say anything more. “And you said that because…because it shows that even in the darkness, in the moments where you feel lost, it shouldn’t cloud the wonderful things, shouldn’t make you regret or resent them because the light will always find you?”
Luka scoffed at her. “No.” He got up and poured the water he hadn’t drank down the drain. He put the cup in the drying rack.
“Well, then what was the point?”
“Never get lost anywhere your mommy can’t find you.”
Melia balled up the kitchen towel in her hand and threw it at him. “Ha. Ha. Very funny. Aren’t you so inspirational and helpful?”
“I try.”
“Try harder.” Melia grabbed a box from the corner of the kitchen.
Luka watched as she bent at the waist and wondered if she did it for his benefit. She balanced the box on her hip and surveyed the room, looking to see if anything had been left behind. The box sat perfectly against her petite but well-formed waist, and he wondered what it would be like to have her, to dominate her. He imagined her, her arms bound over her head, a blindfolded covering her eyes, her body yielding to his touch, growing pliant and wet—her body yielding to him, trusting that he would be able to pleasure her; he wondered what it would feel like to have her complete submission. He felt himself grow hard for her and he reached for one of the boxes to hold in front of him, hoping she hadn’t noticed.
Melia thought she saw the already sizeable bulge in Luka’s pants straining against his dark denim pants and her breath caught in her chest. The space between her legs grew warm, so she thought of a snarky comment to make but something stayed her tongue and instead she walked stiffly out of the apartment, hugging one of the boxes of her belongings tightly to her chest. The words had escaped her, later she would think of something to say and hate herself for not being quick enough to think of it in the moment.
The laugh piqued Luka’s annoyance. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just we must look so miserable to anyone passing by. I look like I’m leaving the house of my lover, disgraced.”
“I’m the lover?”
“Yes, the lover who’s scorning me. That’s why we’re both frowning.” She laughed, uncontrollably now. It lightened his mood as well. He shifted the boxes into the trunk of Melia’s car. “It was nice of you to come. But you really could have driven over. I could have followed you in the car.”
Luka shrugged. “It would have been bad for the environment. I try to carpool when I can, and it seemed wasteful to drive two mostly empty cars.”
“Tree hugger and book lover…okay.” Melia smiled.
Luka looked at her with confusion on his face.
Melia playfully rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. No one owns a book store like yours unless they love books.”
Luka nodded. “I’ll drive. It’ll be easier than trying to explain to you where we live.”
“Is it far?”
“Nope. Just a few miles away.” Melia looked up at the window of the apartment she had shared with Victor for the last few months. Things were finally starting to look up for her.
“You’ll be able to come back whenever you have free-time. It really is close.” Yes. It’ll be okay.” She smiled and tapped the roof with her knuckles. “Let’s get this show on the road. I’m dying to meet this Susan.”
4
Luka’s house was beautiful. Modest sized, but bigger than anything Melia had ever lived in. She wondered who’d had the biggest hand in decorating the house; it was a mash of different cultures, different colors and textures. It was homey, and welcoming — which made it that much more difficult to reconcile with the frowning and bitter man she was getting to know.
Luka had warned her that the guest bedroom seemed smaller than it was because the bed was quite large. He’d told her he used it as a place to hide out with his thoughts. And the second Melia walked into the room, she could feel it impregnated with his presence. It was beautiful and eclectic. The one window in the corner was huge. A thin white curtain filtered the sunlight in a way that lit the room in a soft, warm glow. The crimson patterned wallpaper evoked ima
ges of Morocco. The walls were lined with wrap-around shelves filled with books. Artistic prints adorned the walls.
“We used to travel a lot,” he said when he saw her interest in the photos.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Susan took them. She’s got a real eye for beautiful things.”
The large bed was covered in pillows. Luka pointed to the large armchair in the corner. “You can put the pillow there. That’s what I do—did — when I slept in here.”
Melia felt a little thrill imagining herself sleeping in the same bed where he had slept, putting her head where he had put his own. “Feel free to read any of the books if you want. I stocked it with some of my favorites.”
Luka placed Melia’s boxes and suitcases on her new bed and excused himself. Sitting down on the armchair, Melia looked around. Luka was everywhere in the room; she could smell the musky intoxicating smell of his cologne... A moment of panic rose in her chest. It was going to be hard to do her job, to take care of this dying woman — his wife — in a place where Melia was surrounded by the energy of a man she was so attracted to. It would hard to leave this room, a place that already felt so much like coming home, when the time came to move on.
But that had been her whole life, hadn’t it? Moving from one place to the next.
“You’d think you’d be used to it by now,” she murmured as she began to unpack her clothes, shaking her head to clear the ghosts of a past that both haunted and propelled her forward.
Melia turned just in time to see Susan come shuffling into the room, supporting herself by leaning a bony hand against the wall and dragging her slippered feet across the floor. At the sight of Susan’s warm smile, Melia saw instantly why Luka had fallen in love with the woman. Her smile was disarming, despite the lack of hair, and her red-rimmed eyes. She was bald, puffy, sick…dying. But her striking beauty remained. Melia imagined that before the disease had ravaged her body, Susan had oozed radiance. Few people with cancer at that stage managed to retain some of the looks they’d had in health. In Melia’s experience, it was those who were dazzlingly gorgeous who were able to do so.