by Kara Parker
Luke glanced down at his bicep, then back up at her. “It’s from The Iliad.” He reached over and traced the lines, reading out, “Let me not then die ingloriously and without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter.”
“That’s beautiful.”
Luke dropped his arm and picked up a menu. Before he could respond, though, their waitress arrived. She was a thin woman in her early-thirties, with a beautiful if forced smile. She didn’t even spare a glance to Shayla, focusing all her attention on Luke.
Shayla couldn’t really blame her.
“My name is Shelly. I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you something to drink?” She batted her eyelashes. “Maybe something a little more refreshing than water?”
What, did she think she could get him tipsy and he’d forget that he was on a date with another woman? Wait...was he on a date? Were they on a date? Or was it considered something else? A date normally ended with a goodnight kiss and the promise of a phone call. Shayla doubted that this would end with anything other than a couple hickeys and—hopefully—a mind-blowing orgasm.
“I’ll have a Coke, please,” Luke said, the picture of gentlemanly charm. To his credit, he didn’t return the flirty smile or the lusty gaze.
“I’ll have the same.”
The waitress looked at Shayla as if she was just noticing her there. “Of course.”
She trotted off, swaying her hips, which did look quite sensational underneath the tight fitting skirt. Shayla had the feeling that Shelly was a much better match for Luke. She looked like a girl who knew the score, and with the stab of jealousy that gutted Shayla, she was beginning to think that she herself did not know the score.
If she did, she’d feel a sense of pride in knowing that she was going to take Luke home. Or that he was going to take her home. And she wouldn’t really care about what he did with the rest of his time. But a sense of insecurity began to creep up in Shayla as it became more and more apparent that Luke was not just a beard and muscles. He had a beautiful line of classical poetry tattooed on his arm. He rescued kittens. He brought books places and read them.
Anyway, she chose not to worry about it. She was still feeling a little bit heady from the ride over, and knew that her mind was probably just trying to psych her out of having a good time. Brains were petty like that.
“So what do you do when you’re not rescuing kittens in distress?”
Luke smirked. “I rescue the odd damsel tied to the train tracks as well.”
“Quite the do-gooder.” Shayla raised an eyebrow.
“I have to do some good to make up for the amount of bad I do.”
His voice was like velvet, but the meaning was anything but soft. A shiver went through Shayla.
“What else do you do besides get bossed around at your job?” Luke asked.
“That’s basically it.” Shayla frowned. “Today was the first day that I got to do any actual news. Mostly I just grab coffee and run errands.”
The waitress came back with their drinks, bending over an unnecessary amount to slide the dewy glasses onto the table. Luke kept his eyes on Shayla the whole time, much to Shelly’s chagrin.
“Have you guys thought about food?”
Shayla had not, but she asked for a burger and fries. It was always the safest bet. Luke did the same, and gave a half-second smile to the waitress before turning back to Shayla. Shelly sauntered off again, but neither of them looked this time.
“She likes you,” Shayla commented, taking a sip of her Coke. “Sure you don’t want to be having dinner with her instead?”
It was small of her, but Shayla needed a little encouragement.
“Of course not,” Luke replied. He cocked an eyebrow at her and the corner of his mouth twitched. “If I was out with her, I’d have to pay.”
Shayla nearly snorted her drink out of her nose, managing to hold back her laugh long enough to swallow it. She hadn’t expected Luke to be so full of wit. It probably wasn’t fair of her to think so, but she had expected more of a tough guy “meat and potatoes” kind of thing. Like maybe just staring at her over dinner and eye-fucking her until they finally broke and had each other on the table.
Shelly would have loved that.
But, while Luke’s stares were certainly smoldering, they were far from eye-fucking. And she definitely wanted to get in his pants, but she also wanted to get in his head. The reporter in her was already spinning story angles, wondering what made him tick. Why did he start a motorcycle club? Had he gone to college? What was his childhood like? Why The Iliad?
But the woman in Shayla knew better than to ask any of those questions. Because as soon as she did, what they were doing became more than just a lusty connection and some sex. She’d known that was all it would be as soon as he’d asked her—well, more demanded—to take him to dinner. She couldn’t just change up the game because she started feeling curious.
“Were you sad to see the kitten go?” she asked. “What was his name? Bubbles?”
Luke grimaced. “His name was Achilles, not Bubbles.” He took a drink of his Coke, his Adam’s apple bobbing on his throat. Shayla had to drag her eyes away from the muscular expanse of his neck and shoulders. “And yeah, I guess I’m a little sad to see him go. The little thing had fight, but he was also a lazy piece of shit. I found it all very endearing.”
“Are you actually going to visit?”
“Depends.” He grinned. “Would you follow me with a camera if I did?”
Shayla mulled that over. Would she want to pitch and likely shoot a follow up story to tonight’s? “Absolutely not.”
“Why not? I bet your boss would love that.”
Shayla wrinkled her nose. “Amy is not my boss. She’s the show’s producer, and she ranks higher than me, but being my boss would imply that she’s responsible for my job satisfaction. And let’s face it, she only barely knows my name.”
“That’s a shame.” He leaned back against his seat, the vinyl squeaking against his bulk. “You and I could make a great team.”
Shayla snorted. “The kind of team that does fluff pieces about lost kittens? I don’t think so.”
“I’m sure we have more to offer the world than heartwarming, albeit banal, stories of unconventional heroism.” He leaned forward. “I can think of a few things right now that I’d like to do with you.”
Heat flashed across Shayla’s face. “Oh yeah?”
He curved his lips and nodded, his gaze steely yet hot.
“Well, then,” Shayla said. “I think maybe after this we should go get something a little stronger to drink than Coca-Cola.”
“Wasn’t it you who was complaining about how late it was already? Too late for dinner, as I remember.”
“Too late for dinner, but never too late for a drink.” She gulped. “I think I’m going to need one.”
Chapter Eight
Considering that they were the only two people in the diner, the service was shit. Probably because the waitress, whatever she’d said her name was, was too busy gawking at Luke to remember that she had a job to do. Luke loved women falling over themselves over him most of the time. Most of the time. But when he was trying to get between the thighs of a girl like Shyla? It cheapened the situation.
And Luke badly wanted to get Shayla alone. Everything about her, from her smile to her eyes to the way her lips curved around the straw in her glass, god, it got him so hot. And she was smart, too. Normally that wasn’t a requirement of Luke’s, but he was liking that she had a little something different. The chase hadn’t lasted as long as he thought it might, but hell, he wasn’t going to turn down a slice of her pie.
They talked over dinner, but not about anything personal. Luke got the feeling that she wasn’t willing to share, which was fine because neither was he. His life was messy. Complicated. And he wasn’t sure yet just how much he wanted to throw Shayla into the deep end of it. He assumed she had similar hang ups. Either that, or she w
as afraid he’d somehow use her personal details against her. That wasn’t something he did, but he’d seen it done before.
When the check finally came, complete with the waitress’ phone number and a little heart, Luke swatted away Shayla’s outstretched hand.
“I thought you wanted me to pay,” she said sourly.
He grinned and swiped the paper off of the table. “I wanted you to think I wanted you to pay.”
“Why the hell would you do that?”
He rose, grabbing his jacket from the cushion beside him. “Because then you’d feel obligated to come.”
She gave him a blank look.
“What? You’re telling me that if I had offered to take you out for dinner, you would have accepted?”
Her blue eyes darted over him again. “Good point.”
He paid at the front and made a show of throwing the balled up receipt into the trash. Shayla smiled, then wiped her expression clean when she caught him looking at her.
“Where to now?” Luke asked, sliding into his jacket. The leather crinkled warmly. He loved that sound.
“What bar do you usually drink at?”
“You would never go there, little one.”
She wheeled on him, doing her best tough face. “How can you be so sure?”
He stalked toward her, reaching for her arms and turning her gently on the spot. His hands were nearly able to wrap around her arms. He wanted to hold her in place and kiss her, hard, but he was being patient. Instead he simply directed her attention to the bar across the street.
As expected, she froze.
The Bark was one of those places that a person went when they wanted to forget. It didn’t matter what specifically needed to be wiped away—worries, woes, entire lives. The shadowy corners ate up the offerings of the forlorn patrons, and spewed up a false sense of happiness and a razor-tip camaraderie. The kind that can only be found in shitty dive bars with broken neon signs and beer taps that almost never got cleaned.
For Luke, it was home.
“Point one for Luke, I think,” Shayla conceded.
“There’s a first time for everything.” He nudged her toward the street, but Shaya pushed back against him.
“I’m not really looking to get stabbed tonight.”
Luke pressed his lips to her ear from behind her. “And here I was thinking that’s exactly what you were looking for.”
He felt the shiver that coursed through her, and it was as sweet as candy to him. Shayla turned her head ever so slightly, just enough for Luke to feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek.
And then he swept around the side of her and began to cross the street. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder. “Be brave.”
For whatever reason, that worked like a charm. Hurried footsteps announced her arrival next to him.
“If something happens to me, I will be avenged.”
Luke’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Of course. Don’t worry, little one. I’ll protect you.”
The bar was filled with the same kind of people that were there every night. They were nearly as permanent as the smoke stains on the walls and the broken ceiling fan over the bar. Luke nodded at a couple of the guys he knew, and they gave him a curt nod back. Shayla watched these exchanges with wide eyes, as if her whole world had been turned on its end.
Was she really that sheltered? If she wanted to be a hard hitting journalist, she was going to have to get out more often.
They took up a table at the back of the room, one of the only unoccupied ones that didn’t wobble. The server, Danika, was on them as soon as they sat down.
“Luke, hey.” She dropped a couple coasters onto the table, fixing both of them with a wide grin. “What can I get you?”
“A Bud for me, Dani.” Luke turned to Shayla. “You?”
“I’ll have the same, please.”
Shayla’s eyes tracked over Danika, probably wondering if she and Luke had ever banged. They had, of course. Just the once though, to bite through their sexual tension. He and Danika weren’t compatible in the least, but they got along well as friends. Should he tell Shayla that Danica was happily married? She’d met the guy not long after she and Luke hooked up. He always joked that it was his dick that helped her find her soulmate.
No, it was way too fun watching her fill with jealousy.
Danika headed off to grab their beers, and Luke turned his smile to Shayla. “What kind of places do you normally go for a drink?”
She glanced around. “Places that health inspectors visit on a frequent basis.”
He laughed. “Boring. I like each night out to be a game of Russian Roulette.”
Shayla tugged off her blazer, and Luke watched the motion with interest. Something about the way she took off her clothes was so sexy to him. He couldn’t wait to see her take off the rest of them.
Danika came back with their drinks. “Thanks,” Luke said, grabbing his beer and tilting his head back to take a gulp.
When he looked back at Shayla, she had nearly finished hers. He eyed the half empty bottle. “A little nervous, are we?”
“Thirsty.”
Her eyes were two pristine sapphires in the dimly lit hellhole, shining and drawing him in. Her face was so expressive; it was a treat just to watch her think.
“How many drinks do you think you’ll need to quench that pesky thirst?”
She took another gulp. “I don’t know.” She licked her lips, and Luke nearly groaned from how much he wanted to taste them.
“I bet you I’ve got something a little more satisfying at my apartment,” he said, watching the blush rise up her cheeks.
She took another swig, finishing the bottle. He watched her face: curiosity, trepidation, eagerness, worry. She was as conflicted inside as he’d ever seen a girl. But beyond anything else, there was an underlying lust that he knew would see the night ending with her underneath him, screaming his name.
“Let’s have another drink here and go see what you’ve got to offer,” she said, a seductive smile on those plump lips.
It nearly had Luke undone.
“That sounds like a great plan.” He put up his hand in a gesture for Danika to bring them two more beers, his eyes never leaving Shayla’s.
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” she said. She stood from the chair and looked around.
Luke pointed toward the back. “Head that way. Don’t take the first door, because that just goes back outside. I think the women’s is the second door on the right.”
She nodded and headed off, and the view of her ass was too much. He stood and followed her, though she was too intent on finding her destination to notice the footsteps behind her in the hallway. He reached out and grabbed her hand, jolting her to a stop.
Shayla turned around and looked like she was about to scream, then when she saw who it was her lips parted, but no words came out. But Luke wasn’t here for words.
He slammed her against the wall and ground the bulge in his jeans against her hips, covering her mouth with his and mashing their lips together. Shayla let out a low moan, wrapping her arms around his neck and angling her body up to get more of him. They were alone in the hallway, but even if Hector himself had come strolling down that hallway, Luke wouldn’t have been able to control the fierce desire that overcame him. The rabid hunger for everything and everything Shayla. She tasted like beer and sweetness, and he plunged his tongue into her mouth to taste more of her.
He felt her tits mashed against his chest, and imagined the way her nipples would be hard and throbbing beneath her shirt and bra. He thought about the slickness between her legs, and the way he yearned to have her beg him to fuck her. He nearly pulled his cock out right then and there, but Luke was willing to wait.
He doubted Shayla would be the kind of girl that would be okay with a quick and furious rut against the wall in the back hallway of a shitty bar.
He nibbled at her lip and pulled back, hovering just above her face. Her lashes brushed agai
nst his cheek as she opened her eyes, staring up at him. Watching him. Seeing what he was going to do next.
He released his hands from her hips and took a step back. “I just wanted a taste.”
She looked like a deer in the headlights, but managed a slow nod. If her pussy was aching anywhere near as much as his cock, then he knew it would be hard for her to walk away from him. He was still fighting the urge to ravage her mouth again, then the rest of her.
But there was a time and a place, and this wasn’t it. Soon, though.