by Lily Ryan
I nod.
Lucas leads me through the house to his bedroom. Every fiber of my being tells me I should stay in the living room on neutral territory, but I find myself unable to utter any words. Especially the word “no.”
At least I’ll get a glimpse at one of the most intimate areas of Lucas’s life. I still don’t want to be just another notch for him, but I’m not sure I can resist any longer.
We can’t have sex. Not tonight. Not after everything that happened. I force myself to look around, to learn more about this man from his surroundings.
I’m stumped. His house is somewhat cold. The cherry wood furniture and sleigh bed are the focus of his bedroom. The dark walls are mostly bare. A lone mirror hangs above the dresser to the left of the bed. I guess it’s better than finding a mirror on the ceiling.
No pictures are hung. Not even decorative ones. The only adornment of the room is the large screen plasma television hanging above an entertainment center.
Lucas gives my hand a light tug, and pulls me over to the bed. He sits on the edge and motions to the spot beside him.
“Sit.”
I close my eyes searching for an excuse. I shouldn’t. Desire pulsates throughout my body. I really shouldn’t. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to.”
I avert my eyes, “Now that we’ve got you safe in bed, I should leave.”
“Don’t.” His grey eyes, glassy from the alcohol are intense. They pierce me. Make my heart stutter. “Stay,” he pauses, then swallows hard. “Please.”
“I wouldn’t feel right being … intimate tonight.” Definitely not tonight.
Until now I’ve managed to avoid sex like a skyscraper avoids an octopus. One just doesn’t go with the other. We’ve only been dating a little over a month, but each time we see each other I wonder if this is the night he brakes me. I know he will eventually, and once he does, everything will change.
Lucas straight out terrifies me. At least my feelings for him do, because they overpower logic. They’re deep and real and happened way too fast. I’m afraid taking our relationship to the next level will ruin the magic and intimacy between us, not add to it.
And I’m not ready to walk away.
My sister thinks I’m crazy, but from the night we met I’ve felt like Lucas has an agenda and sex is it. I know once I give myself to him completely he’s going to shut me out.
I can read between the lines of his noncommittal attitude. Lucas doesn’t seem interested in the details of my private life, nor does he offer any of his own. He steers the conversation away from anything more than how our work days go. I understand that a little better now.
Still, he has no desire to meet my friends or introduce me to his. He never hinted about bringing me home to meet his mother, and steers clear of discussing his family at all. Except, of course, for telling me that his father is dead.
Lucas opened up and spoke of the great pain he feels over the recent loss of his father. A father he was close to and idolized as a child. A father whose love could never be felt again.
I justified that his suffering explains his reluctance to discuss matters close to his heart. It makes sense and endears him to me. But still I keep my guard up.
“C’mon,” Lucas sounds very much like a little boy trying to get his way. “I won’t try anything. Promise.”
I hesitate a moment. What harm could sitting next to him bring? My body’s tight with tension as I sit on the bed beside him. My chest aches from the heavy pounding of my heart. My stomach back flips in anticipation of the next move, wondering what I got myself into.
Lucas leans into me, using one hand to steady himself, the other getting lost in my hair.
“I can spend hours staring into your eyes.”
I can’t resist him anymore. I don’t want to. I initiate a long, sensual kiss. My tongue brushes against his, retreats, then comes at him again, teasing. Challenging him as my hands run over his shoulders. Down his arms. Along his chest. I inch over. Closer. Pressing my body up against his.
The sweet kiss evolves into something bred of hunger and need. My fingers wind in his hair. Pulling. Holding him close. His hand travels from my hair, down my body, squeezing, kneading my flesh. He arches his body over mine as I lean back and pull him down with me.
Lucas covers me like a blanket. I pull his shirt up over his head as his hips grind against me. I don’t know what happened to my skirt, it’s ridden up so high I might as well not have it on at all.
I wonder if he could feel my heat and how wet I am through my underwear. With my hands on his shoulders, I push him away trying to catch my breath and slow things down.
“You said you weren’t going to try anything.”
Lucas rolls off me onto his side, his chest heaves with every breath. “I didn’t. You did. And boy am I glad you did.”
I remain silent, staring, as he gets to his feet. He wobbles over to the dresser, pulls out an oversized tee shirt and tosses it in my direction.
“You can wear this,” he smiles. “Or nothing at all. Either way I won’t mind.”
“What are you going to wear?”
“Usually I sleep naked.”
My eyes widen in fear. I can’t be in the same bed with him if he doesn’t wear anything. Even if I could trust him, I just proved I can’t trust myself.
“But, for you I’ll wear sweats,” he answers, a devilish grin playing on his mouth.
I snatch the shirt from his hands and look at him skeptically, “No funny business.”
Lucas holds his hand up, “No funny business. Scout’s honor.”
I place a quick kiss on his lips before disappearing into the bathroom. After splashing cold water on my face I look into the mirror and chastise myself for agreeing to spend the night. I know what he wants. The worst part is I want it too. Maybe even more than he does.
Just not tonight. I need to be strong enough to make sure it doesn’t happen tonight.
I know in my heart if we have sex tonight, it will be revenge sex and have more to do with Stacy than it does with Lucas and me. I won’t let her into our relationship. Definitely not into our bed. Not that there is “our” bed yet.
But one could hope.
After a deep cleansing breath, I steel myself to stick to my guns. I return to the bedroom surprised to find Lucas already lying in bed, his eyes closed. This is what I want, so why am I disappointed?
I pull the covers back, and climb in as quietly as I can, relieved he does have his sweats on, and disappointed that he already appears to be sleeping. A smile forms on my lips as Lucas reaches for me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me against his chest.
We’d never spent the night together, never held each other like this, and it unnerves me how right it feels. How comfortable I am in his bed. His arms are safe and warm, a perfect fit for me. I snuggle up against him as he tightens his grip on me, like chains that will bind me to him forever.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Don’t mention it.” I wonder if he has any idea how happy I am.
Chapter 24
Lucas
I love you.
Those are the most comforting and terrifying words ever. Comforting to hear, terrifying to say. Only one time in my life did I ever feel the need to say it, to let the world know I loved her.
I loved her. She loved me and life was great; until she shattered me.
The innocence of youth kept me ignorant to the pain she could inflict. I always knew the possibility existed that she could meet someone else, I just didn’t think she would. Especially not my father. I was blinded to her ambition by her beauty.
I promised myself never again.
I’ll never put anyone before myself. Never hand over my heart and love another woman the way I loved Stacy. But Olivia leaves me no choice. She stole my heart.
It’s hers and she can do with it what she wants. She can realize how fragile it is and treat it with
kindness and care, or she could char and burn it like meat on skewer. I’m at her mercy.
“I love you.”
Olivia moans in my arms. I squeeze my arms around her, holding her tighter against me.
I have no doubt she knows how I feel about her. Not after tonight, but I’m not positive she feels the same. Her guard is always up. She keeps me at a distance. Even tonight, after the show I put on for her, both at my father’s house and at the restaurant, pounding down drink after drink, she’s holding back.
I didn’t want to tell her the whole story. I thought I could give her the important facts while skirting around the details. I didn’t. I had diarrhea of the mouth and once I started, I couldn’t stop until I spilled every detail of Stacy and my father doing the nasty.
Olivia hasn’t said much since. I worry she thinks I’m weak because I didn’t fight for Stacy, but Stacy wasn’t worth it. I hope Olivia won’t look at me differently in the morning. I don’t want her pity.
I want her love.
My heart thrums hard against my chest, like a sledgehammer.
Holy shit, did I just tell Olivia I loved her?
I thought it all night, but did I say it aloud?
Fuck, I did.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t respond. Didn’t acknowledge it at all.
What the fuck have I done?
Chapter 25
Olivia
I stretch and yawn in the glory of the morning. I’m relaxed and rested. Most nights I toss and turn, waking at odd hours, unable to fall back asleep. This morning I open my eyes surprised by the strange surroundings until I realize where I am.
I roll over expecting to feel the warmth of Lucas’s body. I don’t. His spot on the bed is empty. The sheets cold. I sit up and search the room. He’s not here. I check the connecting bathroom. There’s no sign of him.
Making my way to the kitchen, I find Lucas sitting at the small, round table leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, legs outstretched. Lucas’s hands are clasped behind his neck.
I lift my leg over the chair and climb onto his lap, squeezing between Lucas’s body and the table. I run my fingers through his hair and place a quick kiss on his lips.
“Good morning,” I say, with a smile.
“Morning.” He opens his eyes and darts them away from me.
He looks strung out. Bet he has a killer hangover. But there’s something more. He’s tense. Uptight.
I understand why Lucas might be nervous to see me. I should have answered him. Shouldn’t have just left him hanging last night, especially after his confession.
My first, big mistake.
An awkward silence fills the empty space. I take a deep breath gathering my courage to tell him what I should’ve said the night before. But Lucas speaks first.
“About last night …” He sounds far away and detached.
“Don’t worry. I’ll deal. If I’m lucky, no one but Dr. Stillwell knows I was there.” I plant another small, unreciprocated kiss on his lips.
Lucas shakes his head. “I don’t think you understand.” He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice steady, “I … I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
No. I don’t believe my ears. He doesn’t mean this. If he has anything to say about last night it should be an apology.
I climb off him and stare in disbelief while fiddling with the pendant on my necklace. “You don’t mean that.”
Lucas nods, still unable to meet my eyes. “I do. I know this is hard to hear, but last night got a little out of hand …”
“It got a lot out of hand.” I cover my mouth finding it hard to breathe.
“Exactly.”
“But I never felt closer to you.” I take a baby step toward him. I want to touch him, but I’m afraid to. Afraid the small gesture will scare him off, and betray how much I need him. “It’s like there’s this part of you that’s been closed off. Locked away. Now that you opened up, everything makes perfect sense.”
“Stop, Liv—“
“No. I know what this is really about. I didn’t answer you last night because I had to look into my soul, and ask myself if I could love you with every ounce of my heart and soul. I knew my feelings for you ran deeper than I want to admit, but I didn’t realize how deep. You took me on a journey of betrayal and pain, and all I want to do is make it better. Heal the hurt inside you. Don’t push me away.”
“I’m not your charity project.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Look.” He runs his hand through his hair. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“The answer I came up with is, yes. I could love you. Totally. Completely. And with my whole heart the way you deserve, because, Lucas, I already do.”
He looks confused. “I don’t want to hurt you, Olivia, but …”
“Then don’t. I didn’t want to let you in. I tried to keep you out and away from my heart, but I failed. So whether you like it or not, I love you, too.” My heart hammers against my chest, screaming in pain. I need to get through to him.
“Why do you keep saying that? I’m not in love—”
“Stop lying! I heard what you said last night. It took me a while to respond. Too long. I’m sorry, but I’m responding now. I love you, too!”
Lucas rubs his forehead and temples, looking very uncomfortable. “I never said that.”
Is he kidding? “You said it, and in case you’ve forgotten, you’re the one that was smashed last night.”
Lucas stands and crosses his arms over his chest, “I was not …”
“Yes. You’re right. You were fine,” sarcasm rings heavy in my voice.
“That’s right.”
What’s wrong with him? Why is he shutting down? I take a step closer, “Uh huh, that’s why I drove you home.”
“I was tired.”
“Drunk is more like it. Completely smashed. And I’m betting right now you’ve got a killer hangover.”
“Okay, maybe I drank too much. But I had no idea what I was saying. So even if I did say it, I didn’t mean it.”
My stomach drops. He’s denying it. Pushing me away.
“Don’t do this, Lucas. You meant it.”
“You think so?”
I understand his fear, his feelings of vulnerability but I’m not going to let him hide behind them.
“Yes, I do. Because if you didn’t mean it, we would’ve had sex.”
Lucas gives me a smart-ass smirk and shakes his head mockingly, “I tell you I love you and nothing happens. You don’t see a problem with that?”
Frustration settles in. He has a point. A good one. Usually I love you is followed by some sort of seal on the deal; a long passionate kiss, a hot steamy night of love making.
Nothing happened the previous night. Nothing at all. But he’s taking it out of context. It’s because he loves me, because he respects me that nothing happened.
“Lucas …”
I stop, realizing it doesn’t matter what I say or how I protest. If he wants to deny his feelings, there isn’t much I can do about it. Feeling disheartened I turn away and head for the bedroom hoping I can hold myself together long enough to get out of here without crying.
I take only one step when he reaches out and takes hold of my arm. “Olivia,” he says, compassion heavy in his voice. “I am sorry.”
I meet his unnerving stare and challenge him. “For what? Being afraid?”
Anger flares in his eyes. He steps toe to toe with me, still holding my arm, his grip getting tighter. “I’m not afraid.”
“Sure you are. You’re so caught up in what happened with Stacy you won’t take a chance of having your heart broken again.”
“I’m done discussing this.”
“Of course you are. It hurts too much.”
“Oh, really?” He releases his hold on my arm only to grab my shoulders and pull me against him.
“Really!”
In a flash his mouth covers mine. He wraps his arms around me, one
hand at the small of my back, the other gripping my hair, holding my head in place.
I don’t resist. Not even a little bit. I hold him tight, wanting to succumb to the mountain of desire within me. It’s been building over the last month, but we’ve hit a peak in the last twenty-four hours.
Nerve endings tingle throughout my body. My breaths quicken as his mouth travels from my lips to my neck and chest.
Lucas keeps a tight hold on me. He pulls his hand from my hair and runs it under the oversized tee shirt. His hand is hot, scorching, against my cool skin.
I shudder as it moves freely up to my bare breast where his fingers caress and pinch its peak. I writhe in his arms as I try to fight off the need to feel his body inside of mine.
The air comes alive with a charge. It’s edgy. Explosive. A wild fire rages between us. It’s hot and heavy and out of control. I want him. I need him to fill me. To take away the ache inside my chest. The ache between my legs.
I breathe him in. A faint trace of cologne clings to his skin. My hands travel up the back of his shirt along his muscular back, as I press myself against him, urging him to take me. His heart beats hard and fast against mine.
My fingers trail up and down the creases and smooth muscles of his chest. I’ve been waiting to explore the feel of his body. To memorize every depression, every crevice defining his muscles.
None of this satisfies the pulsing need between my legs. It’s making it worse. My fingers dig into Lucas holding on tight like he’s a fast and dangerous ride I might fall off of.
I stop to swallow down the lump in the back of my throat. To quiet the voice of reason telling me to stop things here and now. My brain tells me I got a reaction from him. That’s all I need. But my body needs so much more!
I pull back and search his eyes. They mirror an insatiable hunger. There’s only one way to quench this need, this yearning I’ve suppressed since we met and can deny no longer.
In one swift motion Lucas sweeps me up into his arms. I clasp my hands around his neck, resting my forehead against his, knowing full well what’s going to happen next. Wanting it to happen. Needing it to happen.