I love him beyond recognition. Beyond perception. I love him so fully that it hurts.
I mouth, I love you, and he soaks up the words before he kisses me again. And again. Deeper. Stronger. We wrap up in each other’s limbs, heat brewing.
He pulls me further beneath him so we’re in perfect alignment, and he whispers, “Five.”
Five: sex. He skips number four on my list. Maybe purposefully leaving oral for another time. Because once we do everything on the list, we’re over.
Luka seizes my gaze while he lifts up my hips, just slightly, and inch-by-inch, he slowly fills me. The hairs rise on my arms, his unhurried, agonizing pace striking all of my nerves. I shudder and my legs unconsciously twitch.
I clutch his toned ass that flexes as he thrusts harder into me. OhGod. He starts rocking in and out, and I swear, I see stars. My eyes nearly roll back, breath lodged in my throat.
Luka cups my face and kisses me, forcing me to breathe properly. It’s one of the kindest efforts ever given to me in bed.
I appreciate it, so much so that I grind forward. He meets me, pushing deeper. I moan against his lips, and he smiles—before a grunt catches his throat, aroused. So aroused.
I try to hang onto his body, my limbs tensing up and aching to hit a climax and fall slack. I’m so full. Luka never stops the momentum. Our friction builds more sweat, and he suddenly lifts me up in his arms.
I’m on his lap, my arms draped around his shoulders. Our eyes lock, and gripping my hips, he moves me up and down his shaft.
“Luka,” I cry out, the feelings in my body and heart welling my eyes.
His glass, too, and he presses his forehead to mine, holding the back of my neck with one hand.
My nails dig into his shoulder. “I don’t want to come. Not yet, not yet,” I say in rapid breaths.
Luka kisses me and whispers, “You’re going to come, and it won’t be the last time, Bay.” But he doesn’t specify whether it’ll be from him or someone else.
One more push in and out, and my vision blackens, my body shaking, and my lips part for the millionth time, no noise able to escape. I clench around him, and he reaches an orgasm just as powerful, his body rocking forward. He holds me.
He’s always holding me.
As light returns, I blink—slowly descending this high. We both breathe heavily, and I rest my forehead on his shoulder, my body weakening to mush. I have no energy to lift myself off his cock.
And then my phone rings again.
I stiffen.
He glances over his shoulder, my cell vibrating on the carpet.
Do we look? Do we ruin this? I hesitate. “If it’s serious, your phone would be going off too, right?” I ask him.
“Yeah.” He nods, combing back his damp hair. I feel like he’s trying to assure himself. “We’re good.” No sooner does he finish, and his phone pings with a notification, either text or email or social media. I don’t know which.
I freeze more.
“Ignore that,” he tells me, but my ringer dies out only to start up again. He sighs, resigned and frustrated.
We both know we can’t really ignore it any longer. I rise to my knees, and Luka pulls out.
I slide off the bed, cold air chilling my bare skin. I shiver but hurry to find my phone, buried in my clutch.
The moment I clasp my cell, the ring ends.
Three missed calls from… “It’s my aunt,” I tell Luka and immediately return her call, worried that something happened to the baby. Her due date is still far away.
I press my phone to my ear, shivering more.
Luka tosses me a hotel robe and adjusts the air conditioner. I watch him also simultaneously slip on boxer-briefs and check his phone—multitasking too well. We both have good hand-eye coordination, but he can’t juggle more than four balls at once.
I like having a leg up on him somewhere.
He also can’t spin a basketball on his finger for more than two seconds. That, I won’t ever let him live down.
I put on the soft cotton robe, knotting the ties around my waist, and then the phone line clicks.
“There you are,” Aunt Lucy says, voice more tight than usual.
“Is everything okay?” I sit on the edge of the bed.
“You tell me.”
I don’t understand her vagueness at all. “What do you mean?” I look up as Luka flashes me his cellphone screen.
Are you with my sister? Be honest. – Brenden Luka shakes his head like he has no clue what to say, and he takes a seat next to me, hunched forward, hand on his mouth in thought.
Why wouldn’t Brenden just text me?
Maybe he’s afraid I’ll lie to him. I don’t want that type of relationship with my brother, but I feel boxed in. I’m barred from giving him the truth by Aerial Ethereal, so I have to lie.
“How are you doing?” Aunt Lucy clarifies. It must be hellishly late on the east coast, so I don’t know why this question would warrant multiple late-night calls.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, trying to make sure of this. “The baby—”
“Is fine. I called about you.” She must shift her phone because her voice is muffled and I hear chatter in the background. Clearer, she says, “Devon says hello.”
“Hi, Devon.” I swallow. “I’m fine too.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Because your brother thinks you’re using cocaine again, and between you and me—we both know that you never started, so tell me what’s really going on.”
My face falls. “Why would he think that?”
Next to me, Luka flashes his cell again.
I’m not trying to grill you. I’m worried about Bay. She’s been acting off lately. Text me back. – Brenden “Apparently you’ve been standoffish at work towards him,” Aunt Lucy says, “and every time he asks if you’d like to hang out, you say you’d rather be alone.”
I pause and decide to tell a partial truth. “I’m just stressed out. Infini’s new choreographer is really demanding, and I haven’t felt social lately. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to Brenden tomorrow and tell him that.”
Aunt Lucy is quiet.
My stomach is in my throat.
Luka is typing on his phone, forming a response to Brenden.
“Aunt Lucy?” I say.
“Are you still taking your antidepressants?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “I haven’t had a really bad low in a while.”
Luka’s eyes flit to me for the briefest second. His concern is noted, too.
She lets out a strained breath. “You’re not skirting around the truth because I’m pregnant, right? Because that’s not right. I’m able to handle your emotions and mine because I care about you. And you’re my responsibility. Understand?”
I smile faintly. “You’re going to be a great mom.”
Her voice softens. “Thank you, but talk to me.”
“I’ve been honest,” I say.
“Will you FaceTime me?”
Right now? My eyes widen as I look around the hotel room. Sheets tangled, covers askew, and clothes litter the floor. “I’ll FaceTime tomorrow,” I say. “I promise.”
Aunt Lucy hesitates but then says, “Tomorrow. I’m setting a reminder on my phone.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I almost smile as we hang up, but Luka presses send on a text that I start reading.
I don’t know anything. Sorry, dude. – Luka I give him a look. “That’s your response?”
“We literally exchanged numbers two days ago, only because I left my keycard and got locked out of the suite. I’m not exactly your brother’s best friend.”
Correction: they’ve never been friends. Friendly, maybe. But in New York, all invites from both sides were rejected.
“He’s going to text you back,” I tell him.
Luka rereads the text and shakes his head.
“If you read your message a certain way, it comes across dry and rude.”
Luka laughs.
“I’m not kidding.” I groan because now I’m smiling. “Luka.”
He extends his arm. “I’m not sarcastic.” His humored smile shouldn’t be that beautiful or contagious, but it is. A hundred percent.
“Brenden doesn’t know you that well.”
On cue, Luka’s phone pings in his palm.
Are you fucking with me? – Brenden Luka hands me the phone. “You text him back.”
“As you?” This is a bad idea. But we’re full of those.