“You shouldn’t be doing that, alone, at this time of night.”
“This isn’t the combat zone in Boston.” She laughed. “It’s Rescue Bay, for Pete’s sake.”
“You think nothing bad happens here?” He came down a step. Another. A third, until he was standing even with her, and the heat between them rivaled the lingering heat in the Florida air. “You can’t trust everyone in this town.”
She paused a beat. “Can I trust you?”
He had a sharp, sarcastic retort readied, but it died in his throat when he thought about trust and other people and the man he used to be. “No, Olivia, you can’t.” He turned to go, then froze when her hand touched his arm.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t . . . I didn’t mean to ask . . .” She let out a gust. “I’m sorry.”
It was the second time she said it that hit him in the gut. He hung his head, closed his eyes, and reminded himself that nothing he had done was Olivia Linscott’s fault. She just happened to be the one he kept hitting with guilt shrapnel. “Forget what I said.”
“Okay.”
He heard the collars jingle again and realized she was going to leave and head off on her walk. “Why are you walking the dogs at this time of night anyway?”
“I have a lot on my mind. A lot to process.” She sighed. “I can’t sleep.”
He let out a short laugh. “Join the club. I’m a charter member.” His gaze went to the road he couldn’t see, the streets that had once been friends but now were filled with hazards. “I used to run at night. I liked how quiet it was, how empty the world was. It was just me and the pavement. But now . . .” He shrugged.
“You’re welcome to walk with me and the dogs.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll probably end up falling on my face.”
“Yeah, you probably will.” Then she leaned in closer. “But then you’ll get back up and try again because you have to. Besides, you can’t stay on the damned porch all night.”
He damned well could, but that didn’t mean he wanted to. Or he should. And the thought of the quiet, empty house and his quiet, empty bedroom just depressed the hell out of him.
“I’m not going that far or fast because Chance is still healing, so it’s not like you’re going to run a marathon tonight,” she said. “I guess the better question is whether you trust me.”
Her voice dropped when she said that and stirred the desire inside him back into a fast hurricane. Trust her? Hell, he didn’t trust anyone. Especially not himself around her. Every time he tried to stick to his best intentions, that train derailed.
“Do you, Luke? Do you trust me?” Now her voice had shifted into the higher ranges of teasing, and he could see a grin curving up the side of her face.
He liked that smile. A lot.
“Maybe not with my social security number, but to walk with me in the dark . . . yeah.”
“I think the latter is far more dangerous. I’m not always the most coordinated woman in the world.”
“That’s okay. Neither am I.”
That made her laugh. He liked the way she laughed, liked that his words could bring that out of Olivia. “Then we’ll just stumble along together. And let the dogs lead the way.”
He hesitated only a second, then fell into place beside her. They started down the walkway, toward the yellow pools of light that dotted the sidewalk. His vision skipped from pool to pool, and he thought how like a runway those circles of light looked.
His hands flexed, as if he were nestled in the pilot’s seat of the MH-60’s snug cockpit, reaching for the collective and the cyclic. Ready. The tower’s commands echoed in his head while Joe shifted into the co-pilot’s seat and the crew readied themselves behind him, olive-green helmets blending in the dark, their chins blocked by the thick black barrel of the mic. The rescue swimmer and the flight mechanic sat, tensed, silent, waiting while the medic chattered away his nerves. Luke could hear the whirr of the blades, the whine of the engines, the chatter on the radio. The familiar lift in his stomach as the helo rose, taking man from ground to air, a miracle every time that something that weighed close to ten tons could rise with so little effort.
The sounds in his head shifted then, to screeches and creaks and the shriek of the storm battering the helo. One minute he was up, wrestling the stick, trying to hold against Mother Nature’s determined wrestling; the next he was down, the helo a plaything against the ocean’s fury. The helo dropped, someone screamed, and the world went black.
“You okay?” A pause. “Hey, Luke. You okay?”
He jerked his attention back to the present day. He was here. In Rescue Bay. On the hard concrete sidewalk. With Olivia. The dogs. The moon above, the streetlights before him. No ocean, no storm, no helo. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.”
“I do that all the time. Hey, watch the dip in the sidewalk.” She touched his elbow, a moment of guidance, then went back to talking as if nothing had happened, but it touched Luke in a place he thought had gone dead a long time ago.
Push her away. Don’t drag her into your mess.
“I’m one of those think-while-I-drive people,” Olivia went on, oblivious to the storm stirring in Luke, “which probably isn’t a good idea, because I’ll forget where I’m supposed to turn or go right past the exit for the mall.”
“I can honestly say that has never happened to me.”
“Not much of a shopaholic?”
He snorted. “The last time I went to a mall, I was seventeen and picking out a tux for prom.”
“Let me guess? Robin’s-egg blue with a ruffled white shirt?”
“Nope. Pale gray with a fuchsia tie.” He shook his head at the memory. What would it have been like if he had known Olivia in high school? If she’d been his date then? Would they have ended up together, driving a minivan and raising a bunch of kids? Or would he have broken her heart and driven her away? “The stupid things a horny teenager will do for prom night nookie.”
“And did you get any?”
“Not so much as a kiss good night. My date broke up with me during the second-to-last song.”
“Oh, that’s harsh.” She gave him a light jab in the shoulder. “And with you all sexy in your tux and everything.”
He laughed. “I don’t think any man looks sexy in pale gray and fuchsia.”
“Some men make anything look sexy.”
Her voice had dropped when she said that, which stirred that fire in his gut again. He thought of that kiss, and how damned good it had been. He’d gone a long time without a woman in his life or in his bed, and right now, in the dark intimacy of the quiet night sky, he wanted this one.
Not just because of the way she had awakened his desire, but because of that laugh, that half smile, the way she seemed to bring sunshine to his darkness.
Tell her the truth, his conscience urged. Tell her now, before she gets tangled up any more.
Chance spied something in the dark and lunged to the left, bringing his leash whipping against Olivia’s legs. She stumbled, and Luke reached for her, and then she was in his arms, against his chest, and the switch in his brain turned to on. The dogs circled them, barking and playing, tangling the leashes around Olivia and Luke.
They had stopped outside the golden reach of the streetlights, at the end of a cul-de-sac, beside a wooded area punctuating the space between two dark houses. The world was asleep, unaware of the brewing tension at the end of Gull Lane.
Luke barely noticed. All he saw was Olivia’s wide, shimmering eyes, the way her lips parted and her breath whispered against his skin. He caught the sweet floral fragrance of her perfume, offset by darker undertones of sandalwood or jasmine or some such thing. She drew in a breath, her chest rising, breasts just brushing his chest.
“I’m having a hell of a time resisting you.” The words were almost a growl.
Her green eyes glistened and she raised her chin. “Then don’t. Not tonight. Please, Luke.”
Two words, two powerful w
ords. Please, Luke.
He leaned down, tangled his fingers in her hair, and pulled her to him, until their mouths met in a frenzied kiss. Heat exploded inside him, stoking the desire that had been building for weeks. She opened her mouth against his, danced her tongue inside, and he deepened the kiss, at the same time stepping her back, until she bumped up against a tree and he pressed into her.
His erection strained against the fly of his jeans, throbbing, begging for release. Olivia tipped her pelvis up, pressing into him, sending his brain into a dizzying tailspin. He slid one hand down, snaking it under the soft hem of her T-shirt, then up the smooth expanse of her belly until he reached the lace edges of her bra. He skimmed two fingers over the peaked nipple and she let out a gasp, arching against him. He slid back the lacy cup, then covered her breast with his palm, running his thumb over the tip until Olivia was nearly crying with want. She reached down, closed her hand around his erection. Even through the hard denim, he could feel the outline of her fingers on his cock, and when she started to slide her hand up and down, he damned near exploded.
He dipped his head, at the same time he lifted the tee and covered her breast with his mouth. When his tongue flicked over her nipple, Olivia let out a sharp gasp and threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on with her touch. She brought up one leg between his, rubbing against his cock, the harder pressure a sweet agony.
Something rubbed against his leg, no, scratched, over and over, up and down one leg. It took him a good thirty seconds to realize it was Olivia’s dog. At the same time, Chance tugged on the leash, nearly toppling Olivia and Luke. The dogs barked, a light went on in a nearby house, and sanity returned.
Luke drew back, smoothed Olivia’s bra back into place, then tugged down the T-shirt. “Uh, this might not be the best place to do this.”
“I agree.” She was breathing heavy, as was he, and for a long second, they just stared at each other in the dark, chests heaving, unspent desire charging the air. “We better get these walks dogged. Uh, dogs walked.”
“And when the dogs are done?”
She glanced at him, and he couldn’t tell in the dark if she was smiling. “We’ll see where they lead us.”
* * *
By the time they returned to Olivia’s house, Chance was panting hard and whining to go inside and lie down. Olivia could identify. Her heart was still racing and she wanted to go inside and get to a bed, too, but for an entirely different reason. Olivia had told herself the whole way back that she would say good night to Luke and leave it at that. Keep things on a neighborly basis. No more.
But as they took the three steps up her porch and the front door loomed like a big question mark, she decided she didn’t want to be cautious, take-it-slow Olivia again. Hadn’t she vowed to leave that woman behind? To let this new life open new dimensions in herself?
And where had slow and easy gotten her, anyway? Divorced and alone. Sleeping in an empty bed every night. She’d gone for the walk to forget all the things going wrong in her new life. The house, her sister. Then along came Luke, a very welcome distraction. No, more than a distraction, but what more she didn’t want to know, so she didn’t ask herself that question.
She sure as hell didn’t want a relationship—her life was complicated enough right now, thank-you-very-much—but that didn’t mean she wanted to live in an empty black hole, either. Especially after that kiss.
Oh my God, that kiss. Amazing, incredible, toe-curling. And when he’d taken her breast in his mouth? Dear God, she almost climaxed right there in the cul-de-sac. She’d been reeling ever since. She turned to him, laid a hand on his arm. “Why don’t you come in for a little while?”
“You sure?”
“Stop asking questions and just come in,” she said. Because if she thought about it too much, she’d change her mind, and right now, she didn’t want that.
She bent over long enough to unclip the dogs from their leashes, and when she turned back, Luke was there, reaching for her, pulling her toward him, kissing her. Fire rushed through her veins, and she clawed at his back, drawing him closer, until his chest was crushing hers and she could hardly breathe.
He kicked the door shut with his foot, then drew back long enough to capture her gaze. His blue eyes glinted in the dark, catching the hall light. “Bedroom?”
“Upstairs.”
He bent down, scooped her into his arms, then started up the stairs. She clung to him, kissing him, touching him, aware of nothing but the heat between them and the urgent need to have more, more, more. His free hand slid between them, fumbling her shirt up and over her head. When the air hit her chest, her nipples puckered beneath the lace of her bra, and Luke let out a groan, then covered her lips with his, devouring, nipping, tasting.
He nudged the door open with his knee, then crossed to the bed in two quick strides. He leaned over and deposited her gently on the covers, before stepping back. She lay there, arms above her head, legs spread, breasts peeking over the lace of her bra, on display for him, feeling more wanton than she ever had before in her life.
“You are beautiful,” he said.
Her face heated, and she turned away. “Thanks.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, cupped her jaw, and turned her face until she was looking at him again. “You are beautiful, Olivia,” he repeated.
She wanted to look away, to deflect the compliment, but Luke wouldn’t let her. So she swallowed those doubts that said she wasn’t a woman that men desired or a woman that made a man want to be faithful, and said, “Thank you,” her voice soft, vulnerable.
Then he leaned down and kissed her, but took his sweet time doing it, letting the fire build between them again, a little at a time. When she arched against him, he shifted until his long length covered hers, his shoes tumbling to the floor with twin thuds.
He ran a finger along the lacy edge of her bra, teasing at the curve over her breast with the very tip of his finger. Ice and fire ran through her veins. “Luke, Luke. Please.”
He grinned. “Please more or please stop?”
“Please stop teasing me and give me more.”
He chuckled. “Your wish is my command, milady.” Then he reached around her, fingering the clasp until it sprung free, and her breasts spilled over the fabric. Olivia began to wriggle out of it, but Luke stopped her.
“Let me.” With agonizing slowness, he peeled down one strap, then the other, following the satin’s path with his mouth, kissing her shoulders, then the little valley beneath her neck, then the swell of her breasts. His mouth closed over the right one and he sucked the nipple into his mouth. She gasped at the sharp fire of his tongue teasing the sensitive nub. His free hand slipped down to her waist, fumbling to undo the buttons and zipper of her jeans.
She rose up on one elbow, which made him suckle her nipple harder. “Oh, God, you don’t make this easy. And I mean that in an oh . . . oh, good way.” She fumbled with his fly, then yanked his jeans down and off. His boxers followed, and his hard cock throbbed against her belly.
She curled her hand around its length, loving the way he gasped and froze for a second, enjoying her touch. She stroked up and down, toying with the tip with her thumb, then sliding her hand down the full length and pausing to swipe her finger across his balls. She twisted her grip as she came up and Luke let out something that could have been a groan or a curse, but sent a clear message of don’t stop.
His mouth covered hers again, hot, hard, insistent. Then he slid his fingers under her panties and into her warm, wet vagina. She sucked in a breath between her teeth and bucked up against his hand. He rubbed his thumb up and down her clit, and that fast, Olivia felt the pounding rush of an orgasm sweeping over her, bursting in her brain, obliterating thought for one hot, sweet second.
“That was fast,” he said, a tease in his words.
“It’s, uh, been a while for me.”
“Me too.” His eyes met hers in the moonlight. “So that means we can either take it slow, or very, very
fast.”
“How about very, very fast the first time? And then the second time, make it last.”
A smile curved across his face. “Your wish is my command.”
She laughed, then gave his cock one long, hard stroke. “Then don’t make me wait.”
He groaned. He pulled his hand out, then tugged at her panties, so fast, she was surprised they didn’t tear. The panties joined the rest of their clothes somewhere on the floor, and then the two of them were naked, warm skin meeting warm skin, like heated silk along her nerve endings. He nudged her legs apart with his knee and settled between them, his cock poised at her entrance. “Protection?”
“I . . . I don’t have anything.” She didn’t want to tell him that she hadn’t bought a condom since her divorce. It wasn’t the kind of thing one put on a grocery list.
“Neither do I.” Reality popped up like a weed. What were they thinking? They weren’t teenagers. They knew where unprotected sex could lead—to very bad decisions and mega consequences.
He shifted away from her and flopped onto the bed. He willed his body to stop insisting he go back to what he was doing. He should be grateful he’d stopped when he did, before they got too close. Before it got . . . complicated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t exactly plan this.”
“Neither did I,” she said, echoing his words. “It just . . . happened.”
He draped an arm over his head and didn’t say anything for a long minute. Cold now, Olivia reached out and dragged the edge of the blanket over them. As the quilt settled onto Luke, he let out a gust and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his boxers and jeans off the floor and tugged them on. “I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t be the man who does the dishes and comes home every night and takes the dog for a walk.”
She sat up in the bed and clutched the sheet to her chest. “I didn’t say I wanted any of that. Last I checked we were just kissing. Or, well, more than kissing.”
“And that’s the problem. More than kissing leads to . . . complicated. And I don’t do complicated.”
It was as if a winter wind had skated into the room and settled its icy grip on Olivia’s heart. She could tell he was gone, that he had left her, long before he got to his feet and said good-bye.
The Sweetheart Bargain (A Sweetheart Sisters Novel) Page 14