LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2)

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  “And now you don’t want to do the right thing anymore?” I sneered.

  “Everything’s changed.”

  “Yeah, it has,” and I looked at Beth. “She comes first. Every time.”

  “I know,” he said softly. “But let me be there for you.”

  I didn’t know if I could trust him. But I was so tired of being alone, so tired of dealing with all of this shit by myself.

  Knowing it was a huge mistake and without speaking a word, I took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom—casually, as if my heart wasn’t slamming against my chest, as if every muscle wasn’t straining, fighting itself, ready to explode with cold fury, love and hatred locked inside me.

  “Let me make love to you,” he begged softly.

  “Love? Is that what this is?”

  “Please, Luka.”

  He pulled my t-shirt over my head and unzipped my jeans, pausing to stroke my erection through my briefs. Then slowly, too slowly, he slid them down my legs.

  “Lie down, baby.”

  I lay back, closing my eyes, my breath catching as I felt his kisses in a line down my body.

  Then I sat up, surprising him. I didn’t want slow and soft. I didn’t want him to make love to me. I wanted to fuck him. Hard. I wanted to take out all the pain and grief and heartache on his body. I wanted him to feel a fraction of the agony I’d felt over the last few months.

  I yanked open his shirt roughly, tearing it from his arms, feeling a dark rage mounting inside me, fueled by the heat and desire I saw in his eyes.

  He pulled down his pants hastily and kicked off his shoes, before crawling onto the bed and lying on his stomach.

  “Lube yourself,” I spat out, tossing him the tube while I rolled on a condom.

  I think I wanted him to fight or yell at me, to tell me to back off, but he simply did as I’d ordered.

  I didn’t give him much time to prepare, instead teasing his ass with a slow thrust in, a faster withdrawal, refusing to set a rhythm, keeping it unexpected.

  Then I tugged him onto his hands and knees, reaching around to roughly massage the hot weight of his cock.

  All the BS and unfairness exploded in my head, and I was ready to blow, and each of his cries and moans pulled me closer to the edge.

  Seth

  I’d never seen Luka like this before. He scared me and aroused me. He was wild with need as his weight pinned me to the bed, rocking hard and fast against me, calling out softly in his own language when he came.

  He pulled out quickly. Breathless, I rolled over to watch his face.

  The condom was still covering his dick, a bubble of white at the tip. He stood and walked to the bathroom without a word.

  I winced as I lay on my back, not just from the roughness with which he’d taken me, but because I was in a cooling pool of my own cum.

  I sat up hastily, trying to wipe the sheet clean, then giving up. He’d have to deal with that later.

  As he walked back into the room, he wouldn’t look at me. My heart started to race, and I wondered if he was going to throw me out. I wouldn’t blame him. I’d been a complete bastard the way I’d treated him, the way my whole family had treated him.

  I wanted him, needed him back in my life. And I had no idea how that would work. But there were things that needed to be said, and Luka was silent.

  I reached for him again, kissing him hard, surprising him. He hesitated for a millionth of a second, then responded, his tongue pressing into my mouth. This time we made love slowly. At least it felt like love.

  But as soon as he’d come all over my chest, he rolled from the bed again and tossed me a box of tissues.

  “This probably isn’t a good time to ask, but . . . have you been seeing anyone else? I know I have no right to ask . . .”

  His incredulous expression turned thunderous and he turned his back, refusing to answer. The constant jealousy that I felt when I thought of him with Sarah burned that bit brighter.

  I was so stupid. Stupid and ridiculous.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again, hoping for a reaction from him. “I know you probably hate me, and you have every right.”

  He sat on the bed with his back to me, his shoulders stiff.

  “Jealousy isn’t a great quality, definitely not my finest hour, but that’s how I felt. I was jealous of my sister. She was getting what I would never have—a life together, with you, with you and your child.”

  A muscle twitched in his cheek, and I knew that he was listening. He deserved what small portions of honesty I could give him.

  He was staring down at his hands: strong hands that could be gentle, a hard body that wound itself around me at night.

  “I missed you so badly,” I said.

  He turned around to look at me, his eyes narrowed as if he expected more.

  “Self-service is fine for buying petrol, not so great for orgasms.” I winced at Luka’s rigid expression. “Sorry, that was . . . I’m sorry.”

  How many times would I have to say it before he believed me? A thousand? A hundred thousand?

  I saw him shut down, those wide walls being rebuilt brick by brick so he wouldn’t have to feel anything. I was worried that if he did it too much, he’d stop feeling altogether.

  All my fault.

  Maybe if I opened my heart, his would listen.

  I took a shuddering breath and said everything I’d longed to tell him.

  “I love you, Luka. I never stopped loving you. I know it doesn’t seem like it.”

  He didn’t speak.

  “Did you . . . did you love me?”

  I wanted him to answer, but with the vulnerability I felt, I dreaded the answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know if you loved me?”

  “I was being honest.”

  “Well, lie next time, because that’s a horrible answer,” I said lightly as his words crushed me.

  He sprawled against the pillows wearily, his forehead creased, his eyes drifting closed.

  I knew he was exhausted from waking every few hours to feed Beth, but I was selfish enough not to want to lose him to sleep yet.

  “She has your chin.”

  Luka smiled for the first time since I’d seen him walking down the street, and turned his head to look at me.

  “She has her mother’s eyes. Or her uncle’s.”

  “Yes, and let’s hope she has her father’s patience, too. She’ll need it with her . . . family.”

  Luka’s smile dimmed. “I know.”

  I hadn’t meant to bring him down, not when we’d had the most amazing time together, precious minutes that ticked past too quickly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He sighed and pulled himself up, leaning back on the pillows, his arms behind his head.

  “It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

  I rolled onto my side to look at him. “None of us meant for this to happen.”

  “But it did.”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to tell Sarah about us now?” Luka asked.

  “Is there an ‘us’?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Is there?”

  I hesitated, watching as his lips turned down and his eyes clouded over.

  He looked so beautiful, his hard body, unashamedly naked, his glorious cock, even now not completely soft, despite our love-making.

  “I don’t know,” I said at last.

  “Would you tell her?” he asked, his voice quiet and edged with desperation. “For me?”

  “How can I do that to my own sister?”

  “How can I stop loving you, Seth?”

  His voice sounded so broken, my heart cracked wide open.

  Neither of us could answer.

  From the living room, Beth started fussing, her soft cries bringing Luka wide awake.

  “Don’t cry, my love. Daddy’s here. And Uncle Seth.”

  He rolled out of bed and glided across the hallwa
y to her. I heard him talking to her in Slovene, his soft voice soothing her cries.

  “I can’t believe something so small can be so loud,” I commented as I followed him into the living room, in awe of his constant calm patience.

  He shot me a contemptuous look.

  “It depends on what sort of baby you put on the order. I was sure I’d asked for the brand with a mute button that sleeps all night, but I got the one that gets spit-up on your favorite t-shirt and woke up every hour for the first week she was home. Guess I should have read the small print.”

  Holding my hands out in surrender, I wandered back to the bedroom, listening as he puttered around the kitchen, warming that wretched-smelling formula for her. I could see him through the doorway as he held Beth in his arms while he fed her, the love in his eyes unmistakable. He handled her tiny body with such certainty and yet such gentleness.

  All I could do was watch.

  Finally, he changed her and placed her back in the crib, turned the baby monitor on and closed the door.

  Then with a brief look at me, he crawled back into bed, kissing me softly on the lips.

  Cold, ugly guilt filled my chest. I loved him. But I knew I was going to break his heart anyway.

  And mine.

  Because nothing had changed.

  I don’t think there’s anything worse than seeing the strongest person you know crumble.

  SETH STAYED THE whole night, helping me with Beth’s feeds, clumsy and unsure, but gentle and willing.

  It felt so good to have someone to share this with, all the worry and tension and tiredness.

  When he left in the morning hours before dawn, the ache of missing him was a physical pain.

  I didn’t know what this meant for us, or for Sarah, but coming back to me the way he had, it felt like a promise, an assurance that we had a future.

  Neither of us had said the words. It was still too new, too raw, but I dared to feel hope.

  After that night, we cautiously started seeing each other a couple of times a week, when Seth’s heavy work load and my unsociable hours allowed us, and I’d even taken Beth to spend the night at his apartment once. I loved the look on his face when I pointed out ‘Uncle Seth’ to my princesa.

  I had to laugh when he insisted that Michael loved me more than him.

  “Michael always ignores me these days, but he really loves you. Hopefully he’ll forgive me now.”

  “Maybe if I ask him to,” I teased.

  He wasn’t completely at ease around Beth, treating her like a particularly fragile piece of crystal, but he was trying. He also kept trying to persuade me that I needed a night off to completely unwind, and in the end, I asked Marcie if she’d babysit on Monday evening.

  Seth took me to his club and bought us a couple of shots each.

  I tried to relax and enjoy the tequila and the music, but it felt wrong. It was one thing to leave Beth to go to work, leaving her for this . . .

  “Shit, baby, you’re so tense,” he whispered, running his hand down my thigh.

  “I shouldn’t have left her. I’ll call Marcie. I just want to go ho—”

  Seth grabbed my hand.

  “Beth will be fine. Marcie knows what she’s doing. You deserve a night off. Just relax.”

  I nodded curtly, my fingers itching to dial Marcie’s number.

  “Maybe I should just call . . .”

  Seth growled in frustration. “Luka!”

  I threw my hands up. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just . . . it feels wrong.”

  Seth tapped a long finger against my temple.

  “You need to turn off the worrying, love. And I know just the thing.”

  He pulled me into a kiss that quickly turned heated. I’d been so tired, what with the show and Beth, that I hadn’t even wanted sex as much as I used to. Much.

  “Come with me,” he murmured against my lips.

  My brain went blank with heat and desire as he rubbed his hand over the zipper of my jeans.

  He stood up and threw a look over his shoulder as he walked away. I counted to ten and followed him.

  The bathroom was empty, but as soon as I stepped through the door, Seth slammed me against the wall, nipping and licking my throat, biting my nipples through my t-shirt.

  “I’m going to take all the tension away,” he promised, his eyes glittering with dark desire.

  I couldn’t reply, too turned on as his hands fell to my belt buckle and he pulled open my jeans.

  “Fuck, Luka! You’re going commando! You make me so horny, baby. Is that for me?”

  I laughed breathlessly. “Haven’t had time to do laundry.”

  I stopped laughing when he pulled out my pulsing, swollen dick and started stroking it; long strokes with a twist at the end—just the way he knew I liked it.

  He sank to his knees on the bathroom floor, giving a sexy half-smile as he stared up at me.

  “I’m going to make you forget your own name.”

  And he took my dick into his mouth with one long swallowing motion.

  I screwed my eyes shut, gripping my own hair with my hands, tugging painfully to try and distract myself from coming immediately.

  He pulled back slowly, sucking as he went, and a long groan erupted from my throat. Then he licked up and down my shaft, and slowly deep-throated me again.

  The feel of his hot wet mouth around me was too much. A lightning bolt of need shot from my balls and I grunted as I poured myself into his mouth. I heard him gagging slightly, but I was beyond any control.

  My knees sagged and I was glad that I was leaning on Seth’s shoulders.

  Seth stood slowly and rested his forehead against mine.

  “Feeling better, baby?”

  My eyes were closed, but a grin broke out across my face.

  “Yeah,” I said huskily, incapable of speaking any more English right then.

  He laughed and kissed me on the lips, pushing the outline of his hard-on against my spent dick.

  Just then, the door opened and the manager walked in. He frowned at my sagging jeans and hanging belt buckle.

  “Come on, guys, you know the rules.”

  “Sorry, Paul,” said Seth, not looking at all sorry.

  “Yeah, yeah. But there’s a couple of off-duty coppers in tonight and I’m not looking to get one of my best customers busted for public indecency.”

  He threw a warning look at both of us, then left us alone.

  My brief moment of satiated pleasure was long gone.

  “Sranje! I have to go.”

  “Luka, don’t . . .”

  “No, I have to go. I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Everything will be fine. Nothing is going to happen.”

  “You don’t know that!” I yelled in frustration. “Fuck, it was a mistake coming here tonight.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “I’ve got to go,” I repeated, zipping up my jeans and pushing past him, ignoring the hurt on his face.

  I took the first cab I could find, leaving Seth behind. The guilt weighed so heavily on me, I didn’t call him for three days, ignoring his messages. When I finally felt like forgiving myself, I caved in and called him, getting his voicemail.

  It was nearly a week before we spoke, and by then, Seth was on a business trip to Brussels.

  My lifeline was Ash, my brother in all but name.

  We spoke most weeks for a few minutes, keeping in touch via Facetime.

  “Hey, bro! How’s it going? How’s Beth?”

  “She’s good, amazing. She gained another two pounds since her last checkup.”

  “That’s great. So, do you think she’s ready?”

  I blew out a breath.

  “Yeah, I talked to her pediatrician. He said her lungs are good and there’s no reason why she can’t go on an airplane.”

  “That is the best news, man. So you’re really coming? You’ll do the tour?”

  I grinned as I heard the excitement in his voice.

  “Yeah. We
’ll do the tour—me and Beth.”

  “Laney is getting everything organized for you guys. And Selma has budgeted for Marcie and adjoining hotel rooms on the tour, so you don’t have to worry about that. Your little princesa will have a dozen aunts and uncles fighting to take care of her.”

  I laughed, happy that it was going to work out, excited for this new step in our lives.

  We ended the call with a promise on my part to book our flights as soon as possible. Ash reminded me that I needed to get a passport for Beth, something I hadn’t even thought about. I know that sounds dumb, but I’d gotten so used to her going everywhere with me, almost an extension of myself, that it just slipped my mind. I had no idea how to go about that, but I’d figure it out. I knew you could pay extra to get a new passport in an emergency. I just hoped that applied to babies, too.

  I was so excited, I pulled my suitcases from the top of the wardrobe and started packing a few things, even though it would be nearly three weeks before we left for America.

  And that’s how Seth found me an hour later, newly returned from Belgium.

  “You’re taking Beth to Chicago?”

  He sounded shocked and hurt.

  I threw him an irritated look as I carried on shoving clothes into suitcases.

  It had been two weeks since the nightclub fiasco, and now he was telling me what I could and couldn’t do? Hell, no!

  “You have a better idea? Or maybe you’re offering to look after her?”

  He winced, but plowed on.

  “I’m just saying that taking a baby who’s not even four months old on a long plane journey isn’t the best idea.”

  He was right. It was a terrible idea and I was dreading it. But what was the alternative? Stay in London, alone and miserable with no chance of improving my life, or go to Chicago and be with my dance family, planning our new tour? And Sarah showed no signs of wanting to come home. I hadn’t heard from her at all, although her mother still called regularly and came to see Beth every week. Usually, she preferred to visit when Beth was with Marcie, which suited everyone.

  I wanted to go home—and that wasn’t London.

  Home. What a fucked up word.

  “Look,” I said, staring at him, hands on my hips. “Sarah doesn’t want us, she’s made that clear. It’s just me and Beth now.”