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Loving Lucas Page 7
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Page 7
I roll my eyes. He misses his whipping post, not me. Sadly, I don’t even know how I got into the situation; it just sort of happened. And now that I’ve escaped, I’m determined to forget Connor. “I’m not here to discuss our nonexistent relationship.”
He takes a drag off the cigar, blowing an enormous smoke ring. “I disagree.”
I glare and start to rise, but he yanks my hand. “Stay.”
I lower myself onto the plastic chair. Good dog. “I don’t have time for this.”
“You’re on my time now.”
A waitress finally comes outside and Connor frees my hand. “Need another drink, sweetie?” She throws me a who the fuck are you? look.
“Bring us two margaritas,” he says, slapping her on the ass before she leaves.
I frown, offended by his lewd behavior. After the first dozen groupies popped their breasts out so he could autograph them, I learned to ignore the way he acts around women. Of course if I did anything remotely similar with men…
“Sorry, baby,” he says cavalierly. “Ready to come home? Mom misses you.”
I take in my surroundings, realizing we’re the only ones outside. Convenient for him. “I don’t want to be with you anymore, Connor.” My stomach churns with stress. “Give me the earrings, please, and I’ll be on my way. Maybe you can charm your way into that waitress’s panties.”
“Already did,” he announces.
I’m not distressed by his confession, only wondering how he managed to get an erection. “When?”
“Last night.”
Admittedly, I’m stunned. “Stopped drinking long enough to get a hard-on?” I laugh.
“Scared to admit you’re jealous?” He combs his fingers through his thick hair. “Don’t blame me, you left.”
I snicker. “I don’t give a shit what you do,” I assure him. “However, I do care that you lured me here under false pretenses. After I leave, I never want to see you again. Or your mother.”
It’s afternoon and he’s already buzzed and probably stoned. I can’t remember a single race he competed in sober. He slaps his hand on the table, leaving my earrings within reach. I gape at him, trying to figure out what his angle is. That’s the first and only time he’s given up so easily.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, Karlie? To us?”
The waitress serves our drinks, collects the money, then leaves.
Connor sucks half of his drink down through an extra-thick straw. He burps, staring hard at me. “Aren’t you going to have some?”
I push the glass away. “No.” I slide the earrings closer, depositing them in the front pocket of my purse. “What about the rest of my stuff?” I don’t know why I’m asking—he already told me what he intended to do. If there’s one thing I can say about Connor, he follows through with anything that hurts or humiliates the target of his sick kind or revenge.
He leans back, folding his hands behind his neck. His intense stare makes my skin crawl. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My flat-screen, DVDs, my rocking chair…” To name a few things I didn’t have time to pack.
“Donated to the Salvation Army.”
“Bastard.”
He laughs. “I warned you.”
“Karlie?”
Who? I glimpse over my shoulder; it’s Lucas. He’s leaning against the door frame, dressed in a pair of gray New Religion jeans and a plum V-neck shirt. I practically salivate he looks so hot, and undeniably furious. I left a note just in case he got home early. But I never thought he’d come here.
“Time to go, darlin’,” he says.
“Answering to that piece of shit?” Connor pipes in.
“Shut up,” I hiss. “Keep your opinions to yourself.”
Connor shoots up, knocking his chair over. “What the fuck did you just say?”
Lucas closes the distance between us in under a second, pulling me behind him. “Ready for another round?” he challenges, fisting his hands.
Connor staggers back a foot and picks up the chair. “Take the bitch,” he says. “Already fucked her stupid.”
Lucas lunges, but I catch his arm. “He’s not worth it,” I whisper. “Can we get out of here? Please.”
His body relaxes a little. There’s a tense moment of silence before he clutches my elbow, steering me inside the bar. We walk outside, straight to my truck, and I notice his Harley is parked next to it. I reach for the door, but he gently flips me around.
“What were you thinking?”
I stare at the ground, ready to accept whatever ass chewing he intends to give me. “I needed to get back a pair of earrings.”
He tilts my chin; our eyes meet. “Earrings?” he repeats, incredulously. “Don’t you understand he’ll do anything to keep contact with you? He’s a predator, Karlie.” He loosens his grip on me slightly, shaking his head in utter disappointment. “Please don’t see him again.”
“I didn’t want to see him,” I defend myself. “I don’t have a lot of money right now, Lucas. What few possessions I own mean something.”
He narrows his eyes. “I can loan you some money.”
Man logic. I shake my head; he’s missing the point. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. Believe me. I’m already indebted to you.”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t want your money, Karlie, I want you.”
Before I can counter, he slants his beautiful mouth over mine, his tongue seeking entry. I open up to him, releasing a helpless sigh. He backs me up until I’m wedged between him and my truck. He cups my face with both hands, driving his tongue deeper, summoning desire that invades every corner of my body. I kiss him with equal desperation, tasting and sucking the breath from his lungs. My fingers slide up his powerful arms, stopping on his shoulders. When he pulls back slightly, my eyes are still closed.
“Please don’t see Connor again.”
Right now I’d agree to anything if he promises to kiss me again. My eyes flutter open, and I’m barely hanging on to reality. We’re standing in the parking lot. Why can’t it be his bedroom? “I won’t.” I don’t make promises I can’t keep. And the more I’m around Lucas, the easier it is to recognize my time with Connor for what it truly was: an abusive relationship where I had no power. With Lucas, even though everything is so new, I feel safe, respected, and appreciated.
He nods. “Ready to go home?”
He accentuates home, and I like it. He takes my keys, unlocks my truck, and waits until I slide in before he gives them back to me. As he closes the door, I start the engine and roll the window down.
“I’ll follow you.”
I agree and roll the window up, flipping the AC on. Another humid day in South Texas. Once we reach South Padre Island Drive, I peek in the rearview as often as possible. I love how he looks perched on that bike. His casual manner, that arrogant familiarity, as if the motorcycle is an extension of his body. A half hour later I pull into the driveway, knowing full well we’re not going out for dinner tonight.
—
I park my bike behind her truck. If I get my wish, we’re not going anywhere tonight. I climb off and meet her at the front door.
“I have a confession to make,” she blurts.
I suck in a breath, worried she’s having second thoughts about living here. “Should I sit down?” I push the front door open and she steps inside.
“No,” she laughs. “It’s nothing too serious, I hope.”
I drop my keys on the table in the entryway, waiting patiently for her to finish.
“I snooped in the garage after you left and nearly had an orgasm when I found your bikes.”
I chuckle, imagining what she’d look like writhing beneath me while screaming in ecstasy. “That’s it?”
“No,” she says like a little girl caught doing something wrong. “I touched it.”
“Touched what?” Now I’m turned on.
“Your Triumph—which I must say is a beautiful piece of machinery…”
 
; “And?”
“That Ducati.” She gazes up at me, her eyes wide with excitement. “That Ducati,” she repeats. “Oh. My. God.”
“Do you want me to take you for a ride?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you want to ride me or the bike?”
She considers it, staring toward the garage, then back at me. “Do you really need to ask? There’s no contest—how could I turn down a chance to straddle an 1199 Panigale R?”
“I’m crushed, darlin’.” I stagger backward and clutch my chest, careful not to smile. “All this time I thought you wanted me, but it’s really my bike.”
“Have an extra helmet?”
“In the garage.” I grab my keys again. “Follow me.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re cruising around South Padre Island, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, her firm breasts jammed into my back. If I had it hard before, I’m fucking suffering now. I want Karlie.
I pull off the main road, turning onto one of the many side streets with random condos or shacks, mostly time-shares or weekend getaways for locals. This road leads right to the water. I park the bike, climb off, and wait for Karlie to join me, but she stays perched on my motorcycle.
I gently knock on her helmet. She stares up at me. “Still with me?”
She gives me a big grin. “Wow.”
God, I love when she smiles like that, not a care in the world. “Awesome ride, isn’t it?”
“I can’t believe how fast you can accelerate, how smoothly you move through the gears. I didn’t even feel it.” She takes off her helmet and hands it to me.
“That’s the difference between American and Italian engineering. Though both have my appreciation, Italian machines are so responsive, light, and easy to maneuver.”
Another mischievous smile. I love where her naughty mind is going—I could just as easily be describing her. “You’re a spinner, baby.”
“Ha!” She deflects my comment with a wave of her hand, heading for the sand.
I hang her helmet on the backseat and jog to catch up with her. Her long hair is whipping in the wind and the sunlight accentuates the rich auburn. I shove my hands in my pockets, tempted to run my fingers through her soft strands.
“I love it here,” she comments.
“Me too.”
We both stare at the water, the sound of rolling waves seeming to affect us in the same way.
“I’m sorry I upset you, Lucas.”
I gaze down at her. “You scared me, Karlie.”
“I scared myself,” she confesses. “Once I heard his voice on the phone, I got so angry—I just wanted a chance to stand up for myself in person. Of course he got the better of me, tempting me with a silly pair of earrings.”
I slip my arm around her waist. “It’s okay to want something back that was yours. Believe me, I know how it feels to have everything ripped away. But in your case, your physical well-being is more important than material things. Start thinking offensively, baby; otherwise, that piece of shit will take advantage of your heart.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but it’s in my nature to protect—and believe me, I’ll do anything it takes to keep you safe. Even if we’re just roommates or friends.”
“Or lovers?”
Yes, especially if we’re lovers. Without warning, I scoop her up and run for the water.
She screams—laughing and kicking her feet.
I act like I’m going to drop her in the surf, so she clings to me, her small hands anchored to my neck. “One.” I swing her. “Two…” I do it again.
“Don’t you dare throw me in the water!”
“Or what?”
Her eyebrows raise. “I’ll kick your ass.”
“I like that idea.”
“Lucas!”
“All right.” I give in and set her on her feet. Then I offer her my hand and we take a slow walk down the beach. There’s no one around, and for a few minutes, I feel like this is my personal paradise: the warm sun, fresh air, quiet, and the beautiful woman beside me, lost in her own private thoughts. What goes through that brilliant mind of hers when she gets quiet? Is she thinking about me? Us? Her past?
“This is the way life is supposed to be,” I say.
“In a book or movie, maybe.”
“No, Karlie, real life.”
“Then I look forward to living for the first time.”
She averts her eyes, and I don’t say anything else. She’s so strong and delicate at the same time, so unsure of herself, so desperate to find a place in the world. I want to kiss all that pain away, share some happiness with her.
She digs around in the sand, selecting a few shells and then tucking them in her pocket. “Thank you for bringing me here. I feel better.”
“So do I.”
When we get home, she’s surprisingly quiet. I lock the door, and when I turn around, she’s still there, staring at me wide-eyed.
“Karlie?”
“I-I…”
That little stutter reveals more than anything she’s ever said. Like a heat-seeking missile, my body connects with hers. She’s so tiny that I have to pick her up so our lips can meet. Her ankles lock behind my back and I carry her upstairs, straight to my bedroom. I set her down, all my attention focused on her. On what’s about to happen, the fantasy I’ve had since the moment I met her at the track. But it’s not just a physical drive; it’s about healing, too—I feel that deep inside. It’s almost tangible.
“Are you sure?” I ask. There can’t be any doubt—I want her so fucking bad.
“Yes.” She doesn’t blink.
It’s time. I kick my shoes off, stripping down to my underwear. Her gaze is locked on my crotch. I groan, latching on to her waist, pulling her against me. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this,” I whisper near her ear. I want her to know that, to believe how incredible she is, and to understand that I don’t take this lightly. If I wanted a mindless fuck, I’d pick up a girl at a bar. She shivers. “I’m going to take your dress off now.”
I take a step back, slowly lowering the straps of her black embroidered sundress. There are no buttons or belt; it slides down her slim thighs, pooling at her feet. I lift her by the waist, settling her at the end of the bed. She’s wearing a black lace bra and panties. I drink her in—loving the generous swell of her breasts and her flat stomach. I grit my teeth. How could anyone do anything but worship her? She kneels on the end of the bed, reaching up. I lower my head and she loops her arms around my neck. I kiss her greedily, our tongues twirling together.
She’s perfect, beautiful and soft in all the right places. Whatever changed her mind I don’t know, but I recognize it for what it is: a precious gift of trust.
Desire flows through me as I reach around and unhook her bra. She wiggles out of it, letting it fall on the floor. I chew on the inside of my lip, carnal need welling up within me. I palm her breasts, flicking my thumbs over her hard nipples. “You’re perfect, so fucking beautiful it hurts to breathe.”
She throws her head back, and that’s when I lose all control. I suck her nipple into my mouth, my fingers working the other. I follow the circle of her tattoo, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses. She digs her fingernails into my back, her little pleasure-filled cries spurring me on. I lift her breasts then, squeezing them together, admiring the lush pale valley between them.
I hide my face, kissing and licking, biting and pinching my way down her stomach. She tastes like vanilla. Every inch of her skin is fragrant and fucking sweet. That’s when I hit the thin lace barrier. She’s still on her knees, her eyes shut.
“Karlie…”
Her eyes pop open, filled with fire and lust.
“Lay back, darlin’.” She does.
I crawl over her, grip her hips, and then slowly slide her up the mattress. When she tugs my underwear down and cradles my cock with both hands, caressing and exploring its length, I growl. Sweet Jesus…I shift, straddling her
legs. My gaze drifts over her body, so unbelievably beautiful. And she’s mine now. Something I intend on making abundantly clear before I take her.
“Look at me, Karlie.”
She raises her head.
“If we do this…”
“I want to be with you, only you.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods, her lips parted in invitation. “I know what you’re thinking, Lucas. Afraid I shouldn’t jump into another relationship so soon after breaking up with Connor. I can’t explain, but being here feels right. I’m through waiting and second-guessing myself. The only way I’ll ever reclaim my life is by trusting my instincts. And I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”
I tear her panties off, burying my face between her thighs. Soft red curls tickle my chin as I submerge my tongue, my fingers tickling her clit at the same time. She writhes and screams my name. I insert my thumb, gently stroking, circling inside her, loving how wet and tight she is. I thrust deeper, moving my tongue up her snatch, until I snare her clit between my teeth. I nibble a little harder than I should and she kicks her feet. I do it again, eliciting the same wild response. Again. She yanks my hair. I’m relentless, in pursuit of that goddamned liquid heat of her orgasm. Come in my mouth. I want to be the first man to ever make her quiver and scream.
“Lucas…”
I suck her clit hard, sliding my thumb in and out, tickling her lips with my fingers. That’s when she explodes; her cries nearly set me off. She pulses around my tongue and I absorb her pleasure, desperate to be inside her.
When I crawl up her body again, she’s staring at the ceiling, smiling.
“Did it feel good?”
She raises her head. “I-I didn’t know,” she says in awe.
“That’s just the beginning,” I promise. I roll off her, yanking my underwear off. “Protection—” I start.
“On the pill.”
“Condom?”
She shakes her head. “Please—I haven’t been intimate with him for months. I’ve been…”
I cover her mouth with mine, driven by jealousy and selfish desire. I don’t ever want to hear his fucking name again, especially in my bedroom. I swallow her words, drawing her tongue into my mouth, repositioning myself between her legs. She spreads them wide, granting me access.