London was a natural, beaming at the camera with an engaging, charming smile.
“I already have your manager’s contact info,” the reporter said. “I’ll send a couple of the pictures to her so your sister can have them.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t tell her that London already had an entire scrapbook full of pictures of us at various premiers—London loved adding to it. She called it her Luke brag book.
The reporter nodded at us, then gestured for the photographer to follow. “Thanks for your time, Luke. The movie was great—lots of fun.”
I kept my arm around London’s shoulders, tightening slightly when she started to pull away. “Hang around a few minutes,” I said. “You only got in today and you have to fly back out Sunday. I never get to see you.”
She spun toward me and threw her arms around my neck, smacking a loud kiss against my chin. “What can I say, Luke? I’m living the chaotic life of a busy college student.” She grinned up at me and settled back down on her feet. “And it will get even crazier when I start my residency—I’ll probably forget how to sleep and how my family looks.”
“And you’re loving every second of it.” I tugged on a thick, perfectly curled golden lock.
“Well, I’m not exactly enjoying some of the douches in my class.” She made a face at me.
Narrowing my eyes, I put my finger under her chin and made her look at me. “Anybody bothering you?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “My brothers taught me a few important things in life—and that includes how to handle dickheads before they become a problem. They pretty much steer clear of me now.” She buffed her nails on the bodice of her dress and slanted a sly look at me. “It might have something to do with the fact that the ringleader sat down next to me at a party and gave me a spiked drink, which I didn’t drink, then tried that old slide-his-arm-around-my-shoulders, thinking I was drunk enough that he could cop a feel. I punched him in the dick, then took the drink to one of the campus cops who was conveniently passing right outside the frat house.”
An ugly blast of rage twisted my inside and I battled it down. So many things could have gone wrong—
London reached up and laid her hand on my cheek. “It’s okay, Luke. He didn’t hurt me. And he got expelled. So now he can’t hurt anybody else at the school, either.”
“Who can’t hurt who?”
I tensed at the sound of Sabrina’s voice.
I hadn’t heard her approach. Now she stood practically at my elbow and I straightened, meeting her gaze.
My vision, already sharp around the edges with suppressed rage, seemed to narrow down to nothing but tunnel vision as I locked eyes with Sabrina.
Something was wrong.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her pupils were dilated.
“Oh, just some douche back at school. I told you about him, Sabrina,” London said, waving a hand. “The guy I punched in the dick.”
“Oh, yeah.” Sabrina laughed. “The one who tried to give you a spiked drink, right? Didn’t he get expelled?”
“Yes.” London gave me one more loud kiss, then waved at us. “Speaking of drinks...I’m getting one. I never get to go to parties where I can worry about free, unspiked booze. I want to enjoy it!”
She disappeared and I focused my attention completely on Sabrina.
I reached for her hands, everything else falling to the wayside. Before I could say a word, she moved in close. Some semblance of a smile curled her lips and in a voice that sounded relatively normal, she asked, “So...any way we can blow this joint?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I sought out Duncan. He’d stayed close by, along with the two other off-duty cops who’d volunteered to help with tonight. The three of them converged on us and we started to make our way toward the exit. Several people realized we were leaving and word spread like wildfire.
One woman in particular took notice—I saw exactly when, too. Maureen Wine separated herself from the crowd, her tall, broad figure cutting through the bodies like a blade as she headed toward us.
Duncan cut her off, one of the other cops going to my now-empty side as my old friend stepped forward.
“Mr. Cochran and Ms. Maxwell are heading out for the night, Mo. They’ve had a busy couple of days. I’m sure you understand.”
We passed close enough by them that I could hear Maureen Wine’s laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be more than a minute. I just need Luke for two seconds—”
Duncan intercepted her as she cut around us. “I’m afraid you’ll have to grab them some other time. But don’t worry. He’s in and out of Madison all the time now, isn’t he?”
Her eyes met mine.
The color and shape was so like Mark’s. But I couldn’t decide which was more unsettling—hers...or her son’s.
Chapter Thirty-One
Sabrina
I CAUGHT SIGHT OF HER as Luke swept me through the throng of people, two cops flanking us. My thoughts were crashing and colliding like a bunch of bumper cars being driven by drunken idiots and if it wasn’t for how Duncan had disconnected himself from our little group and moved forward at a quick, graceful clip, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed her.
My gaze bounced off Maureen’s face, but she barely even seemed to notice me. She was too busy staring at Luke with malice glittering in her eyes. Malice, and an obsessive sort of hate.
The sick sensation gripping my belly spread, growing more intense until I had to swallow back the sick taste of bile as it hurtled up my throat and threatened to spill out of me in a bitter, violent torrent.
I tightened my grip on Luke’s hand and dragged my eyes away from Maureen, staring straight ahead.
The dull cacophony wasn’t enough to drown out her voice as we passed within just a few feet.
The simpering sweetness of her voice was underlaid by a layer of steel, as if she had no doubt that Duncan would snap to attention and do exactly as she wanted. He didn’t, of course, and as he fell into step behind us, I could feel her eyes drilling into our backs like dull, rusty daggers.
A shiver raced through me. My nerves, already on edge, now felt strung tight enough to snap, and even once we were free of the cluster of people, I couldn’t breathe easily.
It didn’t help that once we reached the sidewalk, there were more people gathered out there waiting for us.
The shrill sound of voices, most of them calling for Luke, had the same effect on me as nails dragged across a chalkboard. I had a hard time not flinching, and by the time we slid into the limo, my entire body was rigid from the strain.
Luke took the seat next to mine and brought my hand to his lips.
He kissed my ring finger—where the engagement ring sat. He’d been doing that a lot for the past few days, and as endearing as it was, it also ached.
That ring was just another sign of this entire charade.
And I’d spilled the secret.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked softly, sliding his fingers through my hair.
I didn’t answer.
He didn’t speak again for several moments, just kept combing out the curls in my hair. When he reached the thick, studded piece that had been used to secure some of my curls in a partial updo, he freed it, sending my hair spilling down to my shoulders. A headache had threatening for the past half hour and at the relief of having my hair released, a sigh escaped me.
But that relief didn’t last for long. Almost immediately, I was back to thinking about what had happened earlier.
“Sabrina.”
Dragging my head up, I looked into Luke’s eyes. He curved his hand around my neck. As if sensing the tension there, he sank his fingers into taut muscles and began to probe, stroking and kneading, watching my face all the while.
“Talk to me,” he said.
I swallowed the knot in my throat.
“I told Bella,” I blurted out.
His lids flickered.
I knew I didn’t have to say anything else. He got
it.
Lashes swept down over his eyes for the briefest second, then he looked back at me. “What happened?”
“I...” I groaned and dropped my head onto his shoulder without thinking. He didn’t stiffen or push me away. Maybe he wasn’t mad. “I don’t know. I needed to get away from the noise and all the people for a few minutes. I went into the lounge I’d been told was provided for the female VIPs.” I grimaced, feeling like a fraud for even saying it. I wasn’t a VIP. I was his fake fiancée, giving credence to a lie he’d told his mother when she’d been sick and dealing with heart problems. No, he hadn’t handled it the best way, but I’d agreed to help him out. That didn’t mean anything between us had changed.
Except the fact that you’re sleeping with him.
I silenced that harsh, cynical voice and forced myself to look at him. “Bella came in and she saw me, came over and sat with me. She was a little tipsy, talking about the wedding and giggling...she said she hoped she and London could be bridesmaids. Bridesmaids, Luke! She sounded so excited and it was killing me and I told her! It just slipped out! I’m sorry!”
“Hey...” He slid his hand from my hair to my cheek, pressing his thumb to my lips. “It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for, Sabrina...nothing.” He emphasized that by pressing a quick, rough kiss to my lips. “Hell, it’s not like Bella’s going to go advertising it. Even when she’s tipsy, she thinks harder about things than ten other people do.”
That didn’t settle the ache of misery in my gut, though.
“I...” Stopping, I cleared the knot in my throat. “It wasn’t just Bella who heard, I don’t think.”
Canting his head to the side, he waited, but I could see the faint sign of apprehension in his eyes. “What do you mean? Was somebody else in there?”
“No. But...” I looked away, disgusted with myself. I knew how careful one had to be when involved in this industry, even if just in a tangential manner. But had I been careful? Noooo. “Bella was just staring at me and I was embarrassed, feeling stupid...I couldn’t look at her. When I looked away, I glanced over at the door. It was cracked open and somebody was looking in, listening.” I cleared my throat again. “Whoever it was saw me, because the door closed a second later. I got up and went to look, but there was nobody out in the hall—not even the guard. He showed up a few seconds later and gave me a sheepish look.” Miserable, I looked away. “Somebody else heard me, Luke. Who knows who it was? We’ll probably see it all over the gossip rags tomorrow. And your mom...”
“Stop it, Sabrina.” He guided my face back to his, tracing his thumb over my mouth again. “It happened. It was an accident and it’s over. Hell, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been in that situation to begin with.” He nuzzled my neck before pressing his mouth to my ear. “And even as shitty as I know it was, I can’t even regret it. You know why?”
He didn’t give me a chance to answer, simply pulling me onto his lap, his arm hooking over my neck as he covered my lips with his.
I was panting when he lifted his head.
He nudged me off his lap. I resisted at first, but he caught my hands and guided them to my side. “We’re at the condo,” he said.
My heart slammed hard against my ribs as he slid out, then offered me his hand. As I looked back up at him, I remembered what he’d said we’d be doing when we got back here. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was thinking about those very same things.
A few cameras flashed and I glanced around, surprised to see there was still a fair crowd gathered around.
Luke waved at the crowd, but didn’t stop, marching me toward the doors with single-minded focus. He kept that up until we were in the elevator. Once we had the relative privacy of that, he spun me around until my back was to the wall and pressed into me, letting me feel the heavy, hard weight of his body. The barriers of our clothing might as well not even exist. His cock was thick and rigid, pushing into my belly, and he cupped my butt in both hands, drawing me more firmly against him.
A soft ding chimed and he shoved away from me, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him into the private entryway that led to our rented unit.
He unlocked the door and tossed the key onto the table next to the door.
I sagged back against the door, staring at him.
He closed the distance between us and caught my hips. “I had plans for when we got back, Ina. But they’ll have to wait. I need to be inside you. Now.”
Wordlessly, I nodded.
He sought out the hidden zipper under my right arm and dragged it down. The dress gaped, then sagged and he caught the material, peeling it off of me with hard, impatient hands. I heard something rip. Under other circumstances, I might have protested—the beautiful dress deserved better treatment. But I didn’t care. Not here. Not now.
Letting the material fall to puddle around my hips, he took a step back and stared down at me, eyes practically glowing as he took in the silk and lace construct that I was zipped and laced into. Esme had told me she had a friend in the lingerie industry and this was one of her designs, set to debut next year, but she’d let Esme bargain one away from her.
It was a few shades deeper than the blue of my dress and sexier than anything I’d ever owned. My breasts practically spilled over the top, while the rest of the garment smoothed and winnowed my curves all the way down to the tops of my thighs.
“Fuck...” Luke rasped, finally tearing his eyes away from my tits and looking up at me. “You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
“No, I’m—”
He crushed me again him, his mouth devouring mine, swallowing down my nervous protest. Once he’d kissed it into oblivion, he lifted his head slightly and repeated himself. “The sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And I’m going to fuck you right here, while you’re wearing silk and lace and garters and heels. Then I might bend you over a table and do it again.”
He proceeded to do just that, putting just enough space between us so he could free himself from his trousers before he boosted me up in his arms. He didn’t bother removing my panties, just pulled them away and filled me with a hard, demanding thrust that stole my breath, strength and willpower. If he hadn’t been holding me, if his cock hadn’t impaled me, I might have melted into nothing but liquid heat at his feet.
He withdrew slowly, so slowly, I felt every ridge, every detail of his cock stretching me, every pulse, even the way the vein on the underside seemed to throb. He paused, just the swollen head buried inside me. My breath squeezed out of me and I whimpered.
He hauled me down and lunged up at the same time, the impact reverberating through me.
I grabbed his arms, my nails sinking into the fine material of his jacket. Arching toward him, I strained to hold him within a few seconds longer. But he started that slow, taunting retreat and I cried out in disappointment.
Another rough, demanding thrust, followed by a teasing withdrawal.
I thrashed against him, my movements hampered by a lack of leverage and his weight pinning me to the door, but that didn’t stop me.
However, when he moved and rearranged, hooking his elbows under my knees, that pretty much made it impossible for me to do more than clutch at his shoulders and jerk at the fine material of his suit coat.
Hanging suspended, weight balanced on his cock and where he held my legs hooked over his arms, I whimpered and slammed my head back against the door.
“Look at me, Sabrina,” Luke demanded.
Drugged, so full of love and need, I did.
His blue gaze seared me all the way to my soul.
“Tell me what you feel,” he said.
Another hard, driving thrust.
I moaned, the climax gathering force inside me.
“You.” What else could I feel?
He swooped down and kissed me, catching my lower lip between his teeth. After a quick bite, he muttered against my lips, “Tell me what you feel, Ina.”
“You, Luke. Always you...
”
The climax slammed into me, knocking me sideways and I was lost.
WE SHARED A LONG, HOT soak, then a bottle of bourbon that I pegged as costing about as much as I made in a week.
Luke tossed it back like it was ten bucks a bottle.
I savored each sip, cradling the glass in my hands as I watched him.
He wore a pair of black lounge pants and nothing else, the material riding low on his hips, revealing the cut physique he’d developed while preparing for the first Sword movie, then maintaining it as it became clear the studio wanted a second. He had another project coming up where the script called for the heavy, muscle-laden form, but after that, he was laying off the intense regimen for the next movie, where he was playing an Olympic swimmer who quit competing after a car wreck left him partially disabled.
It didn’t matter how he looked, not to me. I’d love him no matter what, and my hands itched to touch him whenever he was close—even when he wasn’t.
I had no idea how I was going to keep working for him when this...engagement was over.
But I couldn’t worry about that right now.
He stood rigid, everything about him shut down and closed off. I didn’t think it was because of what I’d told him about the conversation between me and Bella, although I was still angry with myself.
No. Whatever it was that had him glaring out into the night had to do with what had twisted him up earlier.
“You promised we’d talk later, Luke,” I told him. “It’s later.”
He glanced back at me. He nodded, but went back to staring outside as if fascinated.
“You know, that walking bridge out there...it wasn’t used for anything up until the past couple of years,” he murmured. “It just sat there. A big, rusting pile of junk in the middle of the river. Now all of a sudden, it’s a light show and people are always walking over it. Weird how quick things can change when you’re not paying attention.”
Rising, I went to him, taking my bourbon with me. I joined him at the window, letting my head rest against his arm. He slid it free and wrapped it around me, pulling me in closer.
Cocksure (The Cochrans of Cocker County) Page 23
