by Becca Steele
I laughed. “Incredible. Light years above anything I’ve ever experienced in the past. The man knows what he’s doing, that’s for sure.”
I groaned aloud.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, I just remembered telling Luke he had a magical dick, when my brain was all scrambled after the sex.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Liv, that’s hilarious.” Avery snorted with laughter.
“Don’t you dare say anything to anyone about this.” I tried to keep a stern expression on my face, but my mouth kept threatening to break into a smile. “Now, can we please change the subject before I drive myself crazy analysing mine and Luke’s interactions?”
I glanced over at the men, indicating my head towards the one I didn’t know. Tall, well-built, covered in tattoos, he was a peculiar but compelling combination of brooding mystery and boy next door, all wrapped up in one obscenely hot package.
Interesting.
“Who’s the other guy? He looks familiar. Is he a rugby player, too?”
Avery nodded.
“Yep, that’s Jake Savage. He’s Alex’s teammate. The gossip columns call him rugby’s bad boy,” she said in a low voice.
“Bad boy, huh?” I mused. “He does have something dangerous about him. I can’t put my finger on what, exactly.”
“I don’t believe everything I read, but I know he’s been in trouble,” Avery confided. “There have been rumours about his family—involvement with some shady people. Ethan’s mentioned a few incidents…” Her voice trailed off as the men came jogging towards us.
Luke threw himself down on the grass next to me, breathing heavily, lying back and staring up at the sky.
“I need a bloody drink.” He groaned, reaching out his arm to snag his water. Leaning up on one elbow, he chugged half the bottle in one go and poured the rest over his head. My eyes followed a droplet of water that trailed down his hard torso, over his pecs, running down the lines of his abs.
I licked my lips and sighed under my breath.
Luke’s eyes darkened as he followed my gaze.
“See something you like?” he asked, his voice a throaty caress.
I want to lick you.
Luke eyed me in amusement.
Shit, I think I might have said that aloud.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?”
“Uh-huh.” He smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. “I’m happy to oblige, anytime.”
“Stop that.” I laughed, flustered, poking him in the chest. He grabbed my hand and pulled me on top of him, then rolled us over so he was pinning me to the ground with his body weight.
“Ugh! Luke, get off me,” I cried. “You’re all sweaty, and you’re crushing me.” He shifted a little so I could breathe and stared down at me. His wet hair was falling into his eyes, and I reached a hand up to smooth it away from his face. My stomach flipped at the tender look in his gaze.
“Liv.” He spoke softly, leaning his head down towards me.
“Seriously, you guys, this is a public place,” Avery hissed.
“Right,” Luke muttered, rolling off me and collapsing onto his stomach, resting his chin on his arms. He screwed up his eyes, squinting against the bright sun.
I cast around for a change of subject to cover my embarrassment.
“Time for introductions.” Climbing up onto my knees, I shuffled over to Jake, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Olivia.”
He ignored my hand, his mouth set in a flat line. “Jake.”
“Jake. Be nice.” Alex’s tone was a warning.
“Sorry. I’m a bit of a moody bastard, as you’ll come to know, no doubt.” He gave me a quick, wry grin, and I caught a flash of dimples.
Dimples.
I could’ve sworn I heard Avery sigh dreamily.
“No need to apologise.” I shrugged, unbothered.
I turned to Alex. “How’s my favourite rugby fullback doing? Broken any more hearts lately?”
He grinned at me. “Oh, only three or four this week,” he said airily.
“Alex, Alex, Alex.” I tutted. “When are you going to stop playing the field and find a nice girl to make you happy?”
“Why, are you offering your services?” He cocked a brow at me, smiling cheekily.
“Get your own girl. This one’s mine.” A pair of strong arms encircled me possessively, and a nose nuzzled into my neck.
I leaned back against Luke, happiness filling me.
“You’re killing me, baby. I guess you and I were never meant to be. I’m crushed. Crushed.” Alex sighed theatrically, pouting in my direction.
“For fuck’s sake,” Luke muttered, amusement in his voice.
Alex shook his head. “I heard that. You got lucky, Lukey-boy. Don’t let our lovely Liv go, or I’ll have to set Jake on you.”
We all looked over at Jake, who rolled his eyes. “Whatever, mate.” He jumped up in one smooth, athletic move, swiping his T-shirt from the ground. “I’m off. Cheers for today, boys. Alex, see you at training tomorrow,” he called as he jogged away.
“Okay, now I’m the only single one here.” Alex pouted. “Am I?” He scrutinised me and Luke.
“Yes, you are. Liv is off limits.” Luke’s firm voice, close to my ear, sent shivers through me. “I thought it was bloody obvious from what I told you about two minutes ago. We’re…friends. But we have an arrangement. Don’t even go there, alright, mate?”
Warmth spread through me at his words.
“Ha! I was messing with you. Just wanted to hear you admit you guys were together, or whatever you want to call it.” A gleeful smile spread across Alex’s face. “This is kind of a big deal for you, you know.”
“Alex, don’t,” Ethan rumbled.
“Luke knows I’m teasing,” Alex insisted.
His attention was caught by a woman jogging past. She turned, making it clear to us all she was checking him out.
“Be right back,” he mumbled, heading in her direction.
Ethan and Avery were conversing in low tones, so I took the moment of semi-privacy to speak to Luke. I turned my head so I was closer to his ear.
“Are you okay with all of this? It seems like everything’s moved so fast since the party, and I know you wanted to take it slowly. You’re saying one thing, but your actions are telling me something else.”
His arms tightened around me. “I know, baby. I told you this was all new to me. I’m winging it here—sorry if I’m confusing you. All I know is I want you and no one else. I don’t want to rush into anything, but I like this. Being here with you.”
“I want the same.” I kissed his ear lightly, and he shuddered. “And I’m not complaining. I just want you to tell me if you feel like things are getting out of control, or moving too fast for you, or whatever.”
“I will,” he assured me. His hand captured my chin, turning my face so our mouths were aligned. Our lips met in a heady, drugging kiss, his soft lips caressing mine and his tongue rolling against my own.
Everything else ceased to exist.
When he drew back from me, staring into my eyes, his darkened gaze made my stomach flip.
“We’d better go for lunch somewhere public,” he ground out, “or I won’t be held responsible for what I do.” We looked at each other for a moment, electricity sparking between us, until we were interrupted.
“Hey, Liv,” Avery cut in. “You guys ready to leave?”
My eyes met Luke’s once again, and he gave me a soft smile.
“Wait. There’s something we need to do first.” He turned to fumble around in his bag, holding me in place with one arm.
“There it is.” He brandished his phone triumphantly at me.
I eyed it, one eyebrow raised.
“Remember? You told me to take a photo of you for my wallpaper.”
“Oh, yes.”
He opened the camera and angled it to face us, then snapped a picture. Bringing it up on the screen, he smiled, satisfied.
<
br /> “Perfect.”
He’d captured me smiling dreamily into the camera, my feelings written all over my face, while his own face was hidden, buried in my neck.
I took a deep breath. Was I that obvious to read? Maybe it was clearer to me, and he wouldn’t notice. I hope. I couldn’t let him know how hard I was falling for him—he didn’t need that kind of pressure.
19
Luke
The mood in the tiny stone chapel was sombre, accompanied by the staccato beat of rain on the guttering outside. Martha’s funeral was attended by seven people; eight if you included the vicar. In addition to myself and Olivia, Martha’s son, Graham, was in attendance along with his wife and son, and Jodie and Kelly from the care home had also turned up to pay their respects. I shuffled uncomfortably on the hard wooden pew as the vicar spoke, concentrating on breathing in and out, willing myself to stay composed enough to recite the poem Graham had asked me to read.
A small hand slipped into mine and gently squeezed.
“You’ve got this, Luke.” Olivia’s soft voice sounded in my ear, reassuring me. “I’ll be right here.”
We hadn’t seen each other outside of work since Sunday, but we’d messaged each other back and forth several times a day, and she’d assured me she would attend the funeral with me, no matter what. Beyond grateful for her presence, I lifted our joined hands and placed a kiss to the back of her hand.
Releasing her hand with a final squeeze, I walked to the lectern and placed the crumpled piece of paper on it, wiping my shaking palms on my black suit trousers. Stay strong. You can do this.
Clearing my throat, I began.
“Thank you, Reverend. Graham has asked if I could read a poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye, ‘Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep.’”
Swallowing hard, I continued.
“Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.”
My voice cracked on the last sentence, and I coughed, trying to clear the lump in my throat and keep my composure. Graham mouthed a thank you to me, his eyes rimmed with red, and I nodded at him, unable to speak. Stumbling back to the pew, I collapsed next to Olivia and she leaned into me, rubbing my arm and whispering in my ear.
“You did well. I’m proud of you, and I know Martha’s looking down on you right now, smiling.” She kissed my cheek, her lips soft.
“Thank you,” I croaked in a whisper.
Taking my hand, she laced our fingers together, her presence a source of comfort and support.
The rest of the funeral passed in a blur.
Olivia drove us the short distance to the cemetery in my car, following a respectful distance behind the hearse carrying Martha’s coffin. The rain had stopped, but the weather remained grey and miserable, fitting the mournful tone. As our small group gathered around the damp, freshly dug earth of Martha’s burial plot, my eyes filled with tears at the finality of it all. I bit my lip, hard, as the coffin was lowered into the ground. Olivia moved closer, hugging me tightly, her hands sliding inside my suit jacket and around to my back, instinctively knowing exactly what I needed.
This woman was a rock, an anchor in the storm.
I cradled her in my arms, kissing the top of her head as I breathed in and out.
Closing my front door behind us, Olivia turned to me.
“Do you—”
I cut her off by wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and placing my lips over hers. She immediately responded, opening her mouth to mine and pressing against me, going up on her toes and winding her arms around my neck. I brought my other arm around her, holding her in place. I set the pace, slow and languid, caressing her hair, her back, needing this. This closeness. The funeral had been so fucking hard for me. I needed to feel something real.
“I need you. Come to bed with me.” I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against hers.
“Yes.” One word, softly spoken. No hesitation.
I led her to the bedroom, then stopped, turning her around and unzipping her dress. It slipped from her shoulders and pooled around her feet. Kissing across her neck and shoulders, I spun her back around. Our eyes met, her pupils huge, dilated with lust.
“Baby.” I groaned. “I need to feel you.”
She responded by sliding my suit jacket off my shoulders, pressing her body against me. “Clothes off,” she commanded, and I obeyed. She peeled her underwear away from her body, and I drank her in, staring at her lush tits, my dick reacting instantly.
“Luke.” Her voice was thick, full of desire. “Let me take care of you first.”
“How?”
She didn’t answer but tugged me towards my bed and pushed me down onto my front, her touch gentle. Climbing onto the mattress, she straddled me, placing her hands on my shoulders.
“You’re so tense,” she whispered, her hands working at the knots in my muscles, relieving the stiffness.
“That feels so good.” My voice came out hoarse, unsteady.
Leaning down, she wriggled against me, raining kisses over my shoulders. I felt her bare breasts brush against my back, and I couldn’t wait any longer.
“I’m turning over now.”
I lay on my back, staring up at her sitting on top of me. My cock ached to be inside her, but I held off. She looked so fucking beautiful, her lips curved into a sultry smile, her curvy body begging to be touched.
“I want you.” She raised herself up onto her knees, then lowered herself onto my dick, tortuously slowly. We both groaned as she slid all the way down. Buried in her warm heat, the feel of her wrapped around my cock was unbelievably intense. She began to roll her hips, slowly, sexily, never taking her eyes from mine.
“Olivia.” I ran my hands over her lush curves, feeling her nipples pebble under my fingers, moving my hands lower, her smooth skin like silk against my palms. Gripping her hips, I moved us into a deeper rhythm, her moans spurring me on.
“Shit.” I stopped dead.
“Don’t stop, Luke,” she begged shakily, panting. “What’s wrong?”
“Condom,” I managed to gasp.
Her face cleared. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill.”
“Thank fuck for that,” I muttered. I pulled her down to me, kissing her feverishly, and she returned my kisses with passion. We rolled over on the bed, lost in each other, our movements becoming more urgent. I closed my eyes, the intensity of our connection almost too much to bear. Her body shook against mine as the orgasm rolled over her, and I followed her over the edge, the fire consuming us both.
20
Luke
Ever since Martha’s funeral, it felt like there was a new level of closeness between Olivia and me. Despite that, thanks to my fears and worries that we were moving too fast—and despite the fact we’d spoken at work and messaged each other every evening—we hadn’t seen each other outside of work since the night after the funeral. I’d been dragging my heels, needing to keep her at arm’s length. She seemed to sense that and hadn’t pressured me for anything, but I knew I had to push past my fear. Or try, at least, Olivia deserved more than a half-hearted effort from me. Although we’d both agreed on the ground rules—only friends with benefits—I wanted to ask her out on a date. Yeah, it was pushing our self-imposed limits, but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head. The thought of anyone else taking her on a date made me feel sick to my stomach. And I had the feeling that she wouldn’t be averse to the idea of us going out somewhere together.
But before I asked her anything, I wanted to have som
e fun with her.
What could I say? Old habits die hard.
Jamie was in a morning meeting with Ethan, so I took advantage of his vacant chair and placed myself in it, rolling the wheels backwards and forwards. I ducked down behind his computer screen to hide my face from Olivia and began whistling tunelessly.
Predictably, after approximately thirty seconds, a loud, annoyed huff came from Olivia’s desk. I continued my obnoxious whistling, trying not to laugh. She was so easy to wind up. Even though we weren’t enemies anymore, it didn’t mean we couldn’t play jokes on each other, right?
“Will you stop that bloody whistling?” Olivia hissed, frustration in her voice.
I whistled louder.
Sixty seconds later…
“That’s it!” Olivia whisper-shouted, slamming something down on her desk from the sound of it. I heard her chair being pushed back, and she was suddenly advancing on me with a murderous glint in her eye.
“Luke? What do you think you’re playing at? I thought it was Jamie whistling.” She glowered at me. “You know how much I hate it.”
“Hey, it was only a joke, Liv. You know you love it when I wind you up.” I held my hands up placatingly, wheeling my chair backwards until it hit the wall.
Olivia stopped dead, a contemplative look on her gorgeous face.
“You’re right.” She let out a little laugh. “I don’t know what I was so annoyed about. I’d better get back to work.”
Turning on her heel, she strolled back to her desk without a care in the world.
Huh. That wasn’t what I expected to happen.
How times had changed.
Puzzled and a little disappointed, I went back to my own desk.
Around an hour later, Eddie stood up, stretching. “Anyone want a hot drink?” he called to the room in general. A chorus of yeses rang out, mine included.
Considerate as always, I heard Olivia tell Eddie she’d help him. A few minutes later, she came towards me, a sweet smile on her face, bearing a coffee in her favourite Better Latte Than Never mug. Shit, now I felt like a complete wanker for playing jokes on her earlier.