“Bri!” Kelly was waving again.
Either way, I couldn’t go and find out. I shoved through the last of the group and slipped behind the bar. I tried to keep an eye out for him, but the crowd was too large. We were busy all the way until closing and even an hour afterward. When I entered Luke’s house, I saw him sitting on the couch in the living room, hunched over his guitar. A half-empty bottle of bourbon was on the floor next to his feet, and he had sheet music spread all over the coffee table. Shirtless, his guitar in his lap, and his hair sticking up like he’d been running his hand through it the entire night, I almost forgot why I was there. A vision of myself straddling him flashed in my mind.
I pulled at my shirt. The room got hot all of a sudden.
His words stopped everything. “Did you come down here to tell me what Emerson was talking about?”
Ice went through my veins. “I want to.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Who was that woman you left the bar with earlier?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “That’s not an answer either.”
“How about…” I took the guitar from him and placed it onto the floor. He leaned back in his chair, his hands coming to rest on my hips. I felt them grasp my sides and closed my eyes, feeling his fingers graze my skin. Bending forward to rest my forehead to his, I murmured, “We enjoy tonight.”
One night. Then the truth. I needed him.
“Tonight.” His hand skimmed down my leg. His pulled me onto his lap, and my legs parted, already knowing I would feel him soon. My arms around him felt heavy, like I had melted, and I shivered, feeling my body come alive as he traced a finger up my spine. His hands snaked inside my jeans after he undid the button, pulling me closer.
I gasped, but pressed down. No more thoughts. Just the feel of us.
He was right there. I rocked against him, feeling him harden and grow under me. Shit. I couldn’t get enough of him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my chest. My heart skipped a beat. I was nervous and giddy at the same time, my stomach fluttering. I was addicted. His touch enthralled me. I kissed the side of his face, moving in a slow line closer and closer to his lips. I felt his heart race as I lingered at the corner of his mouth. I was enjoying the power I had over him. I licked his bottom lip—just a dab. He tugged me tighter to him, and a low growl formed in the base of his throat.
Luke stood, carrying me with him as his lips fused with mine. I sighed at the feel of them. Home. I didn’t register that we were in the bedroom until I felt the covers beneath me. I gasped as his tongue slipped inside. He tasted me while his demanding fingers ran the length of my back and lifted my shirt in the next instant. I was heated, needing more of his touch. As soon as my shirt was gone, my breasts were crushed against his chest. His jeans were a rough barrier between my legs, and I shoved at them. I wanted him inside me.
When my fingers went to my zipper, he caught my hands. My gaze followed the small grin teasing his lips. While holding himself arched above me, he pinned my hands above my head, and then pulled my jeans off with his other hand. I kicked out, helping him. When they were gone, he came back and began grinding against me, building the tempo. I growled, wanting more, but he held me captive.
He kept moving so damn slow while I shivered. Using my legs, I pulled him onto me.
I felt him throbbing for me, too.
Fuck it. I didn’t care who had better control.
I was drunk from his touch. His hands released mine, and one combed through my hair before it cupped the side of my face. His lips touched mine, a small graze before they opened over mine, fusing together once more. My tongue brushed against his, and I was feverish from the feel of him. It was intoxicating, and then, he was right there at my opening. I began to beg. A small whimper came from me as he stayed there, teasing me.
I didn’t know the next time I would have him. I wanted him forever.
Then he slid inside me.
He was home. I was home.
While he slid in and out of me, I began writhing underneath him, wanting him to go faster and deeper. I needed more.
“Luke,” I gasped.
He nuzzled my neck before looking up. “What?”
We were both out of breath, our gazes lidded. I shook my head. The words couldn’t form. I couldn’t talk. I’d tell him later. Later…
He kept thrusting in me, claiming me. I was right there.
The edge was close when he placed a hand on my hip and moved even faster and deeper. With his head in the crook of my neck, his breath coated my skin. He plunged inside one last time, and we both went over the edge. He trembled on top of me as I did the same beneath. Smoothing a hand down my arm, he kissed my neck softly, and we both waited for the sensations to slow.
I loved him.
I was going to tell him. I had to, but I knew he would leave me.
“Bri?” He slid out of me, and I almost grabbed onto him, not wanting him to leave. He rested on his elbow, gazing down at me. “What is it?”
I couldn’t. I could still feel him inside me. That was how it was supposed to be. He and I. But he was going to leave. I already knew it.
His voice dipped low. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
My eyes opened. A mask had slid over his face, and he stood from the bed. His jeans were refastened, and he stood there, shirtless and barefooted, staring down at me. His hair was messed up from me; my fingers had raked through it as he thrust inside me. The memory of what we’d just done sent renewed pain and regret through me. They sliced into me like a thousand little knives. I swallowed painfully and gathered what was left of my pride.
He moved farther away from me and leaned against the bedroom wall. His eyebrows furrowed together, and his jaw clenched as he waited. “You’re going to tell me what’s wrong. Now.”
“We’ve talked about that day, when your dad did what he did.” That was my opening statement?