Fueling His Hunger

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Fueling His Hunger Page 23

by Sparrow Beckett


  But now, as she looked at his concerned expression, she wished she’d been braver and called him.

  She shrugged. “I’m okay. Are you?”

  At least Luke had his cousins to help him through any trauma. Of course, he was probably used to it. He was a criminal, after all.

  Ugh. This was such a mess. What was the CEO of a prestigious hotel chain doing with a criminal? She wanted him so badly—more than anything she’d ever wanted—but how could it possibly work?

  “Luke, I . . .” She stared at the carpet, needing to say so many things but not sure how. “I don’t know what to do.” Tears filled her eyes and she hoped he couldn’t see them.

  He stepped in and pulled her against his chest. His arms came around her, making her feel so small and protected. Nobody else hugged her like this. Not since her dad had passed.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks, dampening his shirt. God, he smelled good. The same as she remembered. She wanted nothing more than to keep him, but she couldn’t ask him to step away from his work. It was his life. He would miss it, and what would his cousins think? That he was choosing her over them? No. She couldn’t be that selfish.

  She had to let him go.

  He kissed her hair, making everything right in her world. Maybe she’d let him go later.

  “Ophelia,” he whispered against her head.

  She fought down the thickness in her throat. “Yeah?”

  After he sniffed her hair, he sighed loudly. “I love you.”

  It took her several seconds to register what he’d said. He loved her?

  Oh fuck. Warmth prickled at her chest.

  She pushed away from him. “Damn it, Luke!”

  He winced.

  “I’m trying to get over you! To be selfless and let you go. Why’d you have to go and say that?” Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Luke gazed down at her with a new confidence. “Because it’s true, and if I never told you, I would always regret it.” He wrapped a lock of her hair around his finger. “No matter what happens from here, I want you to know that you’re loved. Deeply. Passionately.”

  She shook free. “Stop that.”

  “Why?” He looked confused, hurt, but she was still furious he’d said it.

  “Because I love you too, and you’re making this difficult!”

  His lips turned up in amusement. “Does my love offend you?”

  She swiped angrily at her tears. He loved her. It changed nothing, and yet, it changed everything.

  Smiling hopefully, he cupped her cheek and swept his thumb across it. “Come to dinner with my family tonight.”

  “W-what?”

  “We’re having a barbecue. I want you to meet them properly. See who they really are before you get it stuck in your head we’re scary criminals.”

  It sounded nice, but was it a smart move? She felt like everything she did from now on reflected on the company. Every decision came with consequences. It was so much pressure . . .

  “Please?” he asked again. “If you never want to see me again after that, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Alone. She’d been too much of that already.

  And he loved her. It wouldn’t matter so much if she wasn’t also madly in love with him.

  “Okay.” She nodded. “I’ll come.”

  ***

  “Don’t be nervous,” Luke said, smiling at her from the driver’s seat. He’d picked her up at her house and now they sat in his driveway, waiting for her to work up the courage to meet his family.

  Why was she nervous? It wasn’t as if she were trying to win them over. She still wasn’t sure she and Luke were going to see each other again after tonight. But her fingers twisted together in her lap and butterflies took over her belly anyway.

  He covered her hands with his and chuckled. “They don’t bite.” With a wink, he added, “But I do.”

  Yeah. She was trying to forget about that. How he blew her mind in bed. How hot he made her, how adored she felt when she was with him. Ugh. “Stop it,” she hissed.

  He kissed her nose, shocking her. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

  Then he opened his door and stepped out of the car. While she was still reeling from the unexpected affection, he came around and opened her door. Shakily, she climbed out and they walked up the short path to his house.

  Once inside, she heard boisterous laughter coming from another room. Luke took her hand as they entered the kitchen. The whole house was new and sleek, and the decor Spartan.

  His family was hovered around the breakfast counter, eating an assortment of chips and veggies with dip.

  She recognized the two men Luke’s age immediately. Flashbacks from that night swept in but left just as quickly. With the sun beaming in from the skylight, their casual summer clothing, and their cheerful expressions, they were like completely different people. Far from the dark, dangerous criminals she’d been remembering.

  “Ophelia,” Luke said, pulling her forward. “This is my cousin Fox.” He pointed to the blond one with a long Mohawk and then to the taller one with the buzz cut. “And that’s Atlas.”

  They shook her hand with wide smiles.

  “It’s nice to meet you under more . . . pleasant circumstances,” Atlas said.

  Fox nodded in agreement. “And this is my fiancée, Addison.” He slung his arm around the woman next to him.

  Her blue eyes were bright in the sunlight and she grinned. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” With a mischievous look, she added, “Luke hasn’t shut up about you. We’ve all been curious.”

  Ophelia’s cheeks heated.

  “Hey,” Luke said, narrowing his eyes at Addison. “Don’t give away all my secrets.” He pointed to Fox. “Get your woman under control.”

  Addison scoffed and Fox shrugged. “I like her a little out of control. Makes things more . . . interesting.” The two exchanged a heated look, and Ophelia got the feeling Luke’s cousin might be as kinky as he was.

  “Get a room.” Atlas threw a crumpled dish towel at Fox.

  Fox glared at his brother. “Like that would be better. You know how loud she is.”

  “Shut up!” Addison swatted Fox’s arm, which earned her a growl.

  Ophelia found herself grinning. When was the last time she’d been around family teasing each other and having fun?

  “You hungry?” Addison asked her. “Fox makes the best fresh salsa. Not too spicy either.” She pushed the bowl toward her.

  Ophelia looked at Luke and he put a hand on her back and gently guided her to a stool at the counter.

  “We should sit outside,” Atlas muttered.

  Addison shook her head. “It’s too fucking hot.” After grabbing a chip and scooping some salsa she added, “Let’s go in the pool after we eat though.” Then she looked at Ophelia. “Did you bring a suit?”

  Ophelia tossed Luke an irritated look. “He didn’t tell me I’d need one.”

  “I’ll loan you some clothes if you get wet.” Addison shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Why not?” She smiled at Ophelia. “If you’re gonna hang around here a lot, we might as well get to know each other.”

  What exactly had Luke told them? Guilt filled her. Apparently she hadn’t made it clear enough that accepting the invitation to dinner didn’t mean their relationship was a done deal.

  Luke cleared his throat and shook his head slightly at Addison. She rolled her eyes. Ophelia could tell Addison was easy to like. She felt like she belonged already. The fact that they seemed to know more about her than she knew about them was a little unnerving, but at least they liked her. Or pretended to, anyway.

  “So I heard your road trip was awesome,” Fox said, drawing her attention. “Maybe Addison and I will take a trip out there sometime.”

&n
bsp; “It’s beautiful.” Ophelia glanced at Luke. It still felt like their special place. Something private and wonderful that nothing bad in her life could ever touch or change. “I’d love to go back too.”

  “Luke showed us pictures of the park,” Addison said. “I—” Her phone beeped and she cut off to look down at it. “Shit.”

  “What’s wrong?” Fox peered over her shoulder.

  “It’s my mom with another wedding idea.” She read the text then threw her head back and groaned. “Oh my god, this woman is going to be the death of me.”

  Fox laughed. “What is it now? Live doves flying in with flower petals?”

  “Close.” Addison stared down at her phone. “She wants the guests to release butterflies as we leave the ceremony.”

  “That could be pretty,” Ophelia blurted, then regretted it. She didn’t want to seem like she wasn’t on Addison’s side. Clearly, she didn’t like the idea of butterflies. “I mean . . . Sorry.”

  “No, no,” Addison said smiling. “It’s a fine idea. It’s just that Fox and I wanted a small, private ceremony, then a backyard picnic after. But my mom . . .” She sighed heavily. “Well, I’m an only child, and she’s queen of her scrapbooking league so . . . There was no way I was getting away with anything simple.”

  Fox rubbed his hand in circles on his fiancée’s back. “We told her she could be in charge of the decorations, thinking she would just crochet some doilies or something. But now we have two ice sculptures, a live band, a swan-shaped cake—”

  “Because they mate for life,” Addison explained.

  “Baby photos of Addison and me on every table . . .”

  Addison winced and the guys laughed.

  “At least she wants to be involved,” Ophelia pointed out. What would her mother do if Ophelia ever decided to get married? Not crochet doilies, that was for sure.

  “Her intentions are good,” Addison agreed, then wrinkled her nose. “It’s just . . . not really our style.”

  “Weddings rarely have to do with the people getting married.” Fox pecked her on the lips. “Apparently.”

  Luke dug into the appetizers. “Yeah. Just let her do what she wants.” His eyes twinkled. “I can’t wait to see the wedding scrapbook.”

  “Scrapbook?” Addison’s brows shot up. “You mean scrapbooks. She’s got three already decorated and waiting for the photos. The wedding isn’t even until next year!”

  “It’s sweet.” Atlas chuckled.

  Fox tsked as he stared down at his fiancée. “How did you turn out to be such a hooligan?”

  She smirked. “I fell in with the wrong crowd.”

  He swatted her ass and she pretended to be offended, grinning all the while. As Ophelia peered around her, she realized this wasn’t anything like an episode of The Sopranos. These were ordinary people who loved each other. Well, maybe not normal. They were like some kind of kinky, tattooed Norman Rockwell painting, and she wanted to be in the portrait.

  “So I hear you’re taking over the Covington empire,” Atlas said.

  “Yeah. Trying to anyway.” She chuckled humorlessly.

  “She’s doing a great job.” Luke scooted closer, as if to protect her from anyone who dared to say otherwise.

  Atlas finished chewing a piece of cheese, then said, “So you think you can get us into the top-floor suite in LA? I hear it’s awesome.”

  “Atlas!” Luke growled. “Don’t be a dick.”

  “What?” He shoveled food into his mouth again. “It’s impossible to get in, and she’s the Hotel Queen. We should take advantage of that.”

  “Queen?” Luke gazed down at her with a lopsided smile. “Princess, maybe.” He winked, then pressed his lips to her temple.

  His princess. He still treated her like one. Like she was his. God, she loved being his.

  “Ophelia,” Atlas said gravely. “You could do better than Luke, just so you know.”

  “Fuck you!” Luke feigned annoyance and pelted him with a grape. “Where’s your loyalty?”

  Fox and Atlas laughed, but Addison narrowed her eyes at Luke and Ophelia.

  “Nope,” she said. “Look at the way Luke looks at her.”

  Ophelia peered up at Luke, wondering if she’d see what Addison saw.

  “He’s got it bad,” Addison said. “No woman can do better than a man who looks at her like that.”

  Fox chuckled. “Like what?”

  “Like that!” She gestured at Luke’s face. “You can tell he’s totally crazy about her.”

  Ophelia knew exactly what Addison was talking about. She’d noticed it with him before. Luke watched her like she was his world. Like nothing and no one would ever be more important. She loved him for every little damned thing, but knowing he loved her back—really, really loved her—was the best part.

  “Am I crazy about you?” Fox asked his fiancée.

  “Yup,” Addison answered. “And once a guy is crazy for a girl . . . that’s it. He’s done for.”

  Luke peered down at Ophelia, proving Addison exactly right. Her father used to say “Marry a man who looks at you like a starving man at a feast.” She hadn’t understood it at the time, but now it was clear. Luke was exactly the kind of man her dad would have wanted for her. The kind who made her laugh, challenged her, protected her, and believed in her. That his profession required questionable morals wouldn’t have mattered to her dad. If the love between them was powerful enough, they could find a way around anything.

  He could pretend to be her personal protection agent forever for all she cared, if it meant they could be together. And now that she’d been spending most of her time behind a desk rather than wearing haute couture to parties, the paparazzi had grown bored with her. A year from now, no one would know, or care, who she was anymore.

  “Maybe she could do better than a tattooed criminal,” Luke rasped, still gazing down at her. “But nobody could love her as much as I do.”

  A girl could get used to this.

  She reached for Luke’s hand under the counter and he grasped her tiny one in his, curling his fingers around hers as if shielding her heart in his hand.

  Maybe she’d give things a second chance.

  Chapter 20

  The heavy wooden door closed. He flipped the latch.

  “Serena, can you check what time my lunch meeting with the Chapmans is tomorrow?” Ophelia sat at the long boardroom table, her long blond hair pulled back in a severe bun that made her look older and terrifyingly self-possessed.

  Her bloodthirsty-businesswoman facade only went so deep though, and only Luke knew how to flip her switch to get her to submit. In the sunlight that filtered through the windows that overlooked the small, manicured park, she was beyond lovely.

  He watched her reading and making notes, his gaze tracing her stubborn jaw and the graceful column of her neck. There were no visible bruises on her, but he knew she sat on a few he’d left the night before. The memory of earlier that morning, when he’d bent her over her kitchen counter and taken what he’d wanted, made him want her again. Now.

  His dick was already hard for her and she didn’t even know he was in the room.

  He strolled two steps closer to her, and she fumbled, dropping her pen, just as an excited whimper escaped her.

  “Luke,” she whispered, her gaze went from his face, traveled down his body to linger on his arms, then down farther, talking stock of his erection, then shyly fastened on his boots, “I thought you were Serena. We can’t. Not here.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  He laughed quietly, loving the way it made her shiver. “Then you’d better be very quiet.”

  She mewled, and he unbuckled his belt, slipping it free from his jeans.

  “No! That’s going to be too loud!” She stared at the black leather belt folded over in his hands and squirmed
in her seat.

  “No, it won’t. Do I need to shove something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet?”

  “Hey, mister. I’m the boss around here.” Her brown eyes narrowed in an attempt to gain the upper hand. He said nothing, only moving behind her to slip his fingers into her tightly bound hair and yank her to her feet. She gasped, then moaned quietly as he rolled her chair aside and bent her over the files on the table.

  “You’re the boss, are you, princess?” he asked harshly. “Not my boss, no matter what you like people to think.”

  “No?” she challenged.

  “No.” He cracked his belt across her ass twice, then stopped. Too loud, even over her skirt. She’d been right, but he wasn’t about to admit it to her. She was breathing hard. “Are you the boss, Ophelia?”

  “No, Luke.”

  “No. You’re not. The only way you pay me to be here is with that tight little cunt of yours.”

  She sighed and pressed her ass back against him in silent invitation. “You can’t fuck me right now,” she objected unconvincingly. “Serena will be back in a few minutes, and I have another meeting in an hour.”

  He attempted to shove her skirt upward, but the narrow garment couldn’t accommodate that. He found the tiny hook, the dainty zipper, and impatiently opened them both, then peeled the severe navy blue fabric down. When her blue lacy thong fully displayed the sinfully rounded globes of her ass, he ran his hand over it and she gasped, as though shocked he’d do such a thing. She shifted in place, letting the skirt skim down her thighs to land in an expensive puddle around her feet.

  “We really can’t,” she objected, pulling feebly against his grasp, but glancing coyly over her shoulder.

  “Nice try. We’re going to do whatever I want to do, wherever and whenever I want to do it.”

  “I’ll scream,” she warned.

 

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