by J. Saman
It’s the opposite.
There are warm hardwood floors running throughout the space that look worn and original, but seem well-maintained. The exposed brick is juxtaposed with warm colored plaster walls and the furnishings are neutral and comfortable looking.
“I love it,” I say, mostly to myself, because I really do. It’s bright despite the gray sky, and cozy despite its vastness.
And then I realize that this place fits Luke perfectly. On the outside he’s hard, rough, and exceedingly beautiful. But that’s just the façade. Much of everything else seems to be held tight to his chest. But once you manage to draw it out, even just a small taste of it, you realize just how precious that really is. Because everything about him is so absolutely remarkable and unexpected in the best possible way.
“I’m glad,” he says. “Come in and I’ll give you the tour.”
Luke takes my hand and leads me through the large kitchen, dining area and multiple sitting spaces—including one with a ginormous television. His office is one of the few closed-off spaces. We walk into the room, hand in hand, and it is so much grander than expected. Double the size of my bedroom at home and is filled with more computer equipment and monitors than I think I’ve ever seen before, including the feed for the multiple CCTV cameras. Judging by the numerous images on the monitor, there are several I have yet to notice.
It’s an impressive space. I’ve never seen a room like this outside of television, boasting two large desks, all those monitors I mentioned, as well as a slew of other electronic looking gadget things that I can’t even begin to guess at their purpose. His smile is off the charts in this room, as his eyes glide over his playthings.
“My Batcave,” he says with a smirk. “When I first moved to Seattle after the Feds handed me my ass on a platter and tried to serve it with fries and a Coke, I bought this place,” he says, his eyes glued to a monitor, though it doesn’t feel like he’s focused on it. “I needed somewhere I could keep my stuff that I use to hack–the stuff that wasn’t confiscated at least.” He gives me a wicked grin. “Computers, laptops, equipment that allows me to jump IP addresses to places all over the world, secure wireless networks, portable firewalls. You name it, it’s in this room.”
“You still do all of that?” I swallow down a lump because I’m not okay with the illegal stuff. I know him and Ryan run an IT security company, but this. . .
“Nothing I’m getting arrested for. I can promise you that. It’s the toys, darlin’.” He gives me a boyish smile and a wink. “I’d be lying my ass off if I didn’t admit just how much I love my gadgets. They really are half the reason I do what I do.”
I notice a half eaten bag of organic blue corn chips precariously tossed on the side of one of the desks. Nodding my chin in their direction, I raise a mocking eyebrow, making him laugh with his head tilted back, a hand around his stomach as he rumbles with mirth.
“When I was in college, I would have done this,” he waves a hand around the room, “with a bag of Cheetos in one hand, and a Monster Energy drink or a Five-Hour Energy in the other. Now that I’m an adult, I hack with fucking organic blue corn chips, gourmet salsa, guacamole and high-end ice coffee with a double shot of espresso. I feel like a cliché if ever there was one, but I still crunch away on the damn chips while sipping my six-dollar coffee.”
“Cliché might be spot on. Price of being a billionaire, eh?” I tease.
“I really hate that term,” he grumbles.
“It’s a real beaut of a Batcave or whatever you call it. And while I’m sure this is all heaps of fun, I have no idea what you just prattled on about with networks and the like.”
He laughs again. “So I can’t convince you to go on a hacking binge with me? Do some penetration testing?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and all I can do is shake my head and roll my eyes.
“You don’t want me having a go at your stuff. I’m sure I’d break something just by sitting in your fancy chair. In the hospital, I am relentlessly teased about the fact that I can’t even work our EMR.”
“No hacking for you then.” Luke plants a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Come on, let me show you the rest.”
He doesn’t bring me to the back of the flat where the bedrooms no doubt are located. Instead he directs me over to the sitting area that houses the television, and motions for me to have a seat. I do and I sink right into the plush cream sofa.
“This is fantastic, Luke. How do you ever manage to leave?”
He laughs, “I don’t a lot. If I’m not at work, I’m usually here.”
“Can’t blame you for that.”
“Are you hungry?” he asks softly. Standing in front of me, his brown eyes examine me, but in search of what I do not know.
“Yes, I’m famished.” I move to stand up, but he stops me with an outstretched hand.
“I’ll bring us something. Just relax.”
I smile and sink back into the sofa. Luke hits a button on the wall and the gas fireplace comes to life. He hits another button and the soft notes of Debussy fill the room.
If this is a seduction scene he’s creating, I doubt I’ll last much longer.
I can’t tell if I’m drowsy with sleep, or drunk on anticipation of what could come next.
Not even five minutes later he returns with grilled cheese and tomato soup, and I smile at just how adorable that is. “You must do this a lot,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Do what?” he asks, mid-chew.
“Bring women to your home to make them soup, turn on the fire and play classical music.”
He looks at me blankly. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know,” I giggle, self-consciously. “It just seems like the perfect date. Something that has worked for you in the past.” He frowns at me, and suddenly I feel bad for opening my big mouth. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I just meant that this is wonderful and special and I’m loving every second of it.”
“I don’t really date a lot, Ivy. And I never bring women here. Ever.”
“How come?”
He shrugs. “I work a lot, and this is my haven.” He turns to me, putting down his half-eaten sandwich and rubbing his hands against each other to remove any excess crumbs. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever brought here, and though I’m sure I’ll freak you out, I’m hoping that’s how it stays.”
“Luke—”
“I know,” he cuts me off almost sharply. “I just meant I don’t like bringing women here.”
I shake my head. “How did this happen so fast?” I whisper to myself. I like him. Dammit all, I do and that’s just so unfortunate.
He smiles lopsidedly, drawing closer. His brown eyes become twin pools of desire and I’m lost.
Completely and utterly lost in this man.
But more importantly, I don’t want to be found.
I’m enjoying our little interlude way too much.
I know I’m in trouble. I know that two days with him aren’t enough. I know I’ll want more and that I’m already desperate to manipulate time and space so our brief moment becomes infinite. I know I could be doing irrevocable damage to myself by letting him in. I know all of this. But what I don’t know is how to make it stop.
“Ivy.” Warm, slightly calloused fingers brush my cheek. “It’s not fast baby, it’s exactly the way it’s supposed to be.” He skims his lips against mine. “Because I can’t get enough of you. I came home after dinner last night and all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you again. All I could think was more, I need more. I like you. It’s that simple for me.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing with me, Luke.”
He smiles big against my mouth. “I haven’t a clue, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop. I figure I’ll go as far as I can with you, and the rest will take care of itself.”
“I can’t get attached to you.”
I’m already attached to him. Who the hell am I kidding?
“Me neither, so we
won’t delve into anything too deeply. It’s just fun, remember?”
With that declaration, his lips smash into mine as his fingers rake through my hair, pulling on my braid to release the elastic and set my hair free.
“Ivy?” he breathes my name as a question, but it’s not really a question. It’s a desperate plea.
I answer by pushing him back and climbing onto his lap, straddling his large muscular thighs that roll beneath me.
He groans as his arousal rocks into me, his hands sliding up my back under my multiple layers. I feel the hunger of his mouth as it takes mine, exploring and searching, leading me to the brink of insanity with just a simple swipe of his tongue. I crave him. I thirst for him. I need him so much closer than is humanly possible.
My insides are molten fire, completely liquefied, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life. The irony of that is not lost on me. We’ve done this before after all. But this is so very different. This feels like I’m teetering on a precipice and with one wrong move, one small slip, I’m going to fall and there is just no way I’ll ever be found again.
His hands continue to slide up my back, taking my clothes with them, though he makes no attempt to remove them. So I do it for him, momentarily breaking our kiss.
Dark brown hooded eyes take me in, a strangled hiss escaping his parted lips. “God, look at you.” Luke’s hands cup my breasts over my bra, lifting and testing their weight before he squeezes.
I moan, tilting my head back before it lulls to the side as his mouth captures my neck.
I want this to keep going. I need this to keep going. I want to be in his bed with him inside of me, but I can’t get myself there.
I’m paralyzed with fear, knowing all too well where this will take me. Take us.
“Luke,” I moan again, but place my hands on his shoulder to try and hold him at bay.
“I know,” he says against my neck. “I don’t even have any condoms here.” He chuckles like this amuses and frustrates him equally. “Just . . .” Lust-filled eyes find mine. “Let me make you feel good. Please, Ivy. I’m dying to taste you.”
“Oh god,” I moan.
“Tell me you want that.”
“Yes. I want that.” And I do. I want it more than I want my next breath. He lowers me to the couch on my back, struggling to remove my leather pants and tights, laughing as he goes.
“Next time, less layers.”
“Right-o,” I giggle.
His eyes find mine from between my spread thighs and it’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. “You won’t believe me, but I’ve thought about you for ten years. For ten years I regretted not being able to do this.” His tongue comes out and licks me, causing my back to arch off the couch and my eyes to roll into the back of my head.
Within minutes Luke has me writhing and twisting, pulling his hair both closer and further back. His hand is planted on my lower abdomen, holding me down. Pinning me so he can fully torture me with his incredible mouth.
I’m consumed and overwhelmed and nothing has ever been this good. Ever.
Luke is unimaginable.
And it’s not just his talented tongue or the way he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—though neither of those hurt his cause. No, it’s the way he makes me feel free when I have been hiding. Awake instead of dormant. Fearless instead of petrified. Ceaseless instead of temporary.
There are no words to describe that sort of liberation, and if he can make me feel like this after only a few days, then I may never be able to give him up. I want to drown in the sensations he compels. Fill my lungs and my body with this rush, and pray to god that it never ends.
When he’s done with me, when I’m sweaty and smiling so big my cheeks hurt, I return the favor all too happily, taking him into my mouth and savoring every part of this man.
Have I mentioned Luke likes to talk?
He likes to give direction and praise, and he says some of the naughtiest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks, languidly running his fingers through the strands of my hair as we lay breathless and sated on his couch, wrapped in each other.
I prop my chin on his chest as he adjusts his head with his arm behind it so he can meet my eyes. “I don’t have any of my stuff.”
“Doesn’t matter. You can borrow what you don’t have, and I’ll drive you home tomorrow before I go to work.”
“You don’t think that’s a bad idea?” I chew on the corner of my lip nervously.
“Nah.” He runs a hand through my hair. “You need to stop worrying about this. I’m good, Ivy. I swear. I hope you are too, because that was the most fun I’ve had in ten years and we haven’t even gotten to the really good stuff.” He grins suggestively.
Giggling, I say, “Okay then, I’d like that.”
“We never ate our lunch.”
“Oh yes we did.” I give him devilish grin.
He laughs, bouncing me slightly on his chest. “Who knew you were such a dirty girl?”
“Me?” I say with mock outrage. “You’re the one who told me over and over again how desperate you were to fuck me. And I’m greatly paraphrasing, leaving out the naughtiest bits.”
“I never said I wasn’t dirty. You have no idea the depravity I have floating around in my head when it comes to you.”
“Tell me something real, Luke, something not many people know about you.” I have no idea why I just asked him that. It wasn’t my intention to turn our playful moment into something serious.
He looks up at the ceiling for a beat before turning back to me with a small smile that has me blowing out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding in. “I hate Indian food. Can’t stand any part of it.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s pathetic.”
“Okay, I’d rather read than watch television.”
That surprises me and he nods, correctly interpreting my expression.
“I think it’s because I spend so much time in front of a monitor. The idea of watching more doesn’t do it for me. Reading soothes me.” Who is this man? Never before have I met someone who is more of a walking contradiction.
“What do you like to read?”
“Almost anything. I got really into the Pillars of the Earth series for a while. I haven’t had much time to read lately, so I’m a bit behind.”
“I like old movies. You know, Billy Wilder, Howard Hawks, Alfred Hitchcock—blokes like them. I also have a huge thing for eighties films.”
He leans up to kiss the tip of my nose because that’s all he can reach. “Which eighties movies?”
“Nearly all of them. There was a theater close to us when I was growing up that used to have an eighties night. I would make Dad and Mum take me every week.” I grin at the memory. I’m going to miss my parents so much when I move. I don’t see them all that often because of work, but I try to whenever I can.
“Sounds like you had a nice childhood.” Luke’s words are soft and kind, but there’s a fleeting flash of heaviness in his eyes. I’m sure I imagined it.
I nod, my chin rubbing against the smooth hard muscles of his flawless chest. “I did. We weren’t well off, but that never seemed to matter, and I never felt like I went without. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realize just how much my family struggled. Especially after we moved here when I was a young teenager.”
“I bet you were an adorable kid.”
“Nah, I was scruffy and more of a tomboy than anything else. Dad was big into sport, especially football, so I played a lot. Was always caked in dirt.”
“Football as in soccer?”
I roll my eyes. “No. Not as in soccer.” I say the word with the most acerbic tone I can muster. “Soccer is soccer in Australia, just as it here. I’m talking about Australian Football League or AFL. It’s huge at home, and Dad loved to watch, so I used to play in our garden a lot with him. You know, since he only had girls and no boys. Not so much once we moved
here. Did you play sports growing up?”
Luke looks off, away from me, focusing on nothing. “Not really.”
He sits up, taking me with him and though we’ve been laying in very little clothing, his abrupt end to our conversation has me feeling exposed.
I pull my shirt and sweater over my head before tugging up my trousers and tights. Luke gets dressed too and before I can even comment, he walks off toward the washroom.
What just happened?
A minute or two later I hear his bare feet slapping against the wood floors. “You want to order some dinner?” he asks from behind me. I’ve been stuck sitting on the couch with my hands folded in my lap, just staring down at them, unsure of what to make of the way he shut down on me the second I mentioned his childhood.
Maybe he doesn’t want us to get too intimate.
Probably for the best.
So I turn to him, plastering a smile on my face that I’m not sure I totally feel and say, “Absolutely. I’m starved.”
Chapter 10
Ivy
I’m warm and comfortable, so very comfortable, as the dull outside light fans across my face. Shifting in bed, very strong muscular arms wrap around me, pulling me into an even stronger chest.
“What time is it?” I rasp, sleep still heavy in my voice.
“Time to get up,” Luke says, but he’s making no move to do so or allowing me to either.
His nose buries in the space between my neck and shoulder, his mouth peppering me with sweet soft kisses. “How is it you can taste so good?” I giggle as he tickles me a little. “I’m serious here, Doctor. I want a medical explanation for it, because my mouth is watering and it’s taking all of my limited self-control not to roll you onto your back and devour every single inch of you.”
“Um . . .” Did he just ask me a question? Oh, right. “I just taste good?” Worst response ever.
He laughs against my fevered skin. “I think I’m muddling your mind.”
“I think you’re muddling more than just that.”
“Good, I like you like this. Thoroughly under my spell and helpless to resist.”