by Chloe Cox
“She told you to leave,” Luke said, his voice calm while his body burned to do something. “And I’m not going to tell you again to listen to her.”
You could tell Jimmy Walters didn’t know how to react. He was a paper Dom, the kind of guy who didn’t really have control over himself, let alone other people. The kind of guy who never put himself in a situation with anyone who could stand up for themselves, because then he’d be revealed for what he was.
A coward.
A coward who wouldn’t meet Luke’s eyes.
“I’ll come back later, Charlene,” Jimmy said, straightening out his jacket, fumbling for his keys. “When you’ve come to your goddamn senses.”
He opened the cab door, but Luke caught it and held it. Jimmy looked at him, and stopped struggling to get his door closed.
“Don’t come back here without an invitation,” Luke said. “That’s the last warning I’m going to give you.”
Jimmy burned so hot his ears got red and his nostrils flared and he looked hard into Luke’s eyes. And when he did, it all became clear. Luke hadn’t seen that look in another man’s eyes in a long, long time, but it wasn’t the kind of thing you’d forget. If you grew up around it, you’d always be able to recognize that cold, mean rage. That need to dominate, to bully. To make someone else small so you could be big.
Luke saw what Jimmy was.
And there was no way in hell he was going to let that anywhere near Charlene Bastien ever again.
Chapter Six
Luke stood and watched until Jimmy’s truck was off the property and his dust cloud had faded into the distance, and only then felt his heart rate start slow down. He was on alert still. The sensation a dull pressure that pulsed with his own heart, a prickling awareness, a tension in his muscles. Heightened senses.
The threat was gone, but his job wasn’t done yet. He turned, and looked for Charlene.
She stood right where he’d left her, just a few feet from her own front porch, an old sweatshirt falling down over one bare shoulder. She’d been watching Jimmy drive away, too. But now her eyes met his.
And in an instant, he saw it.
For that one moment, her defenses still down, he saw all of it—the way she was still scared, the way she was furious about being scared. The way she got herself together, steeled her jaw, lifted her bright eyes up while her lip trembled. And all he could think about was protecting her.
He didn’t think about it. He just walked up and wrapped his arms around her.
A beat.
Her scent washing over him, her softness pulsing warm in his arms, her small hands resting gently on his chest. He would have fought the world for her, in that damn moment. He would have chased down Jimmy’s truck and thrown it into the goddamn gulf if she’d asked him to.
And then she melted into him.
Charlene nuzzled her face into his chest as she took a big, gasping breath, her fingers digging into his shirt, her tears sinking through to his bare skin. His Dom senses flared, and he held her a little tighter, a lot more consciously. His own feelings receded into the background, and his heightened senses focused on one thing only: the little sub in his arms.
The little sub who was coming awake to the un-fucking-worldly chemistry between them. He felt it immediately—the way her fingers flattened, feeling the muscles in his chest. The way her breathing quickened.
But this wouldn’t happen like this.
Gently he took her hands, put them down by her sides. Took a half-step back, just enough to separate them. Wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
And then she looked up at him.
Goddamn.
Her brown doe eyes shone, leaving her thoughts bare to him. She was startled, bewildered. Luke might have been dumbstruck too if he hadn’t known what to expect the second he touched her. But Charlene had just had a frightening shock, and now she looked lost. He thought back to the scene at the florist, the way she’d held back and pushed forward at the same time at Gavin and Olivia’s—she didn’t trust anyone. And now it looked like she didn’t even trust herself.
He was going to do more than protect her. He was going to teach her to trust. He was going to give her what she needed.
And she needed a Dom.
Charlene was trying to get her brain to work again.
First, there had been Jimmy. Fucking Jimmy. She had never in her life been so utterly gutted as when her ex-husband had said that her house was also his. It made her nauseous, the way he looked at it, because it was the same way he used to look at her—like it belonged to him. Like it existed for him, and all he had to do was want it.
It felt like the ground beneath her had opened up in a giant sinkhole of suck, and she was in danger of falling forever. That it might swallow the foundation of her new life, that it might swallow her, too. The new her.
And then Luke had been there.
It was more than just the feeling of safety when he’d stepped between her and Jimmy, although that had been amazing. It had been much more than that. It was that Luke had her back. He didn’t think it was all in her head that Jimmy was a monster; he agreed with her. Luke saw what she saw, and he was on her side.
Charlene hadn’t realized how loud Jimmy’s doubting, gaslighting little voice still was inside her own head until that moment. She didn’t realize how much she didn’t trust her own perceptions until Luke Logan showed her that he saw what she saw. And she hadn’t known how much she needed that, just to feel sane.
And then he’d touched her.
Holy hell, he had touched her.
Everything had stopped. For one perfect moment Charlene had felt safe and content. She’d breathed Luke in and it had been like breathing in life. Like he’d somehow turned back time, and that sinkhole underneath her feet closed right back up.
Then she took another breath, and that peace and contentment turned into something far more fun, and far, far more dangerous. Charlene was human. She couldn’t ignore the hard heat of the muscles under his shirt, the driving rhythm of his heartbeat, the firm command of his arms wrapped around her. Her pulse quickened, and the pressure started to build, and then…
He pulled away. Like the sun going behind a freaking cloud.
So now she was staring up at the most hypnotizing gold-flecked blue eyes in the most beautiful face, attached to the most commanding Dom she’d ever met in her life, and she had no idea what to say.
“You’re shivering,” he said.
Charlene blinked. He was right. It was a warm summer night in Louisiana, but she was shivering. And still she couldn’t look away from those eyes.
I am so screwed.
“Charlie,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Inside. Now.”
It was the voice that did it—again. Charlene was already turning on her heel, marching toward her own house, when she realized she’d just…obeyed an order.
Without thinking about it. Without arguing. Pure reflex.
Because that was how she reacted to this Dom.
I am so, so screwed.
She tried to ignore it, this time, as she climbed the steps to her own porch, but it was hopeless. Her body was alive. Thrumming. Jittery, jumping, but the fear was gone, and all that was left was this awareness of the perfect specimen of male beauty that had just ordered her inside. The little angel that sat on her shoulder and tried to keep her out of trouble was going absolutely nuts.
Let’s be honest, you never had an angel. Charlene’s shoulder angel had always been more like the cool aunt who would sneak you beer on your birthday. And even she thought Charlene was in trouble.
She had her hand on the doorknob when she felt him come up behind her.
“You’re nervous that I’m here,” he said, and his voice was like dark honey trickling down her back.
So it took her a second to see that he didn’t even have to ask why.
“Yes,” she said. She didn’t turn around.
“You’re still in a state of arousal,” Lu
ke said.
Now she turned around.
“Excuse me?”
Luke grinned. Oh, goddammit, he grinned, and there was a dimple. One dimple in that rough face, with those eyes, and that always slightly messed-up hair, and he was so close to her that she could feel the heat from his body, and her nipples started to harden.
“Physiological arousal,” Luke said. “Flight or fight. Freeze or fuck.”
Charlene swallowed, and still tried to ignore the hammering of her pulse between her legs.
“Never heard that last one before.”
“It’s a big one,” Luke said.
Charlene groaned. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look. If she looked down and actually saw that he was correct, and it was a big one, she would lose it. Even worse, Luke hadn’t meant it that way. No, he was being responsible.
Which, the shoulder aunt on her shoulder knew, was the right thing to do. Because he was right, she’d just had an upsetting shock, and it was kind of weird to feel like this right then. It would be a terrible idea to act on it. She’d regret it. It would change things. It would be bad.
And now Luke was studying her face.
The grin was gone.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
She looked down at her hand—yup. Shaking.
“Yeah, I guess there’s some adrenaline or something,” she mumbled.
“Inside,” he barked, and reached behind her to open the door. Instantly she walked inside and then found herself lost—until Luke put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the couch in her own sunroom.
“Sit.”
She did.
He towered over her.
“You won’t make any decisions until this has passed,” he said. “Stay where you are. I’ll be right back.”
Charlene must have been pretty dazed, because it took her a second to realize what he’d said.
“Excuse me?” she said again, out loud, only he wasn’t there to hear her. Luke was already messing around in her house, opening and closing doors—sounded like the closet—doing God knew what. And the weirdest part was that she didn’t actually mind, even though she should.
No, Charlene wanted him here. And whether that was because she was a fool who let her lady parts boss her around, or if it was because she was afraid, deep down, that her ex-husband would come back, she didn’t know. But she doubted she had the strength to ask Luke to leave.
At least not right now.
Chapter Seven
Luke picked out the softest blanket he could find in one of Charlene’s overstuffed closets and came back to find her exactly where he’d left her, perched on the couch in her sunroom. But he found her exactly where he’d left her—her position the same, her hands on top of her thighs, her fingers toying with the hem of her dress.
She was a sub, and she would submit even when she didn’t realize she was doing it.
Any other time, that would have made him instantly hard. But right now, he had a responsibility. He watched her for only a second, but saw everything he needed to see: moving, her eyes wide, her shoulders shaking very slightly. Her mind still obviously racing.
“Up,” he said.
Charlene stood up automatically and looked at him. He didn’t explain, just walked over and draped the blanket over her shoulders.
And she didn’t say anything, but when he put his arm around her, she leaned in. She needed more.
“Come here,” he said as gently as he could. And he pulled her back with him, onto the couch, so that she was sitting in the hollow of his arm, cradled against his chest.
For a second, it was better. Then her breathing got light, fast. Inwardly, Luke smiled. Yeah, he felt that too—he couldn’t touch Charlene Bastien without his dick jumping to attention, and he sure as hell couldn’t hold her without wanting to rip her clothes off. But now was not the time.
“You’re not making any decisions, remember?” he said softly. “You’re safe.”
With a sigh, Charlene relaxed into him a little more, and he held her just a little tighter. If she were his sub, he’d make her talk right about now. This was a weird line to walk.
“How do you know exactly what to say?” she whispered.
“Dom school,” he said.
He felt her smile.
“Somehow I can’t picture you in school,” she said. “Any school.”
“I’m an engineer,” he said. “I’ve been to kind of a lot of school.”
“And yet.”
Luke cracked a grin. She wasn’t wrong; it had always surprised everybody. Especially his father.
But this wasn’t about him.
“Tell me what happened today,” he said.
Charlene shifted just enough to give him a Look.
“My terrible ex showed up,” she deadpanned.
“What did he say?”
Charlene looked backed down and burrowed a little further into his arms.
Ah.
“He wanted me to know he was back,” Charlene finally said, and her voice was sad now. Tired. “He wanted me to…”
The tension radiated through her like a lightning bolt, the fear coming back. Luke held her a little bit tighter.
“What?” he said.
“Oh, God,” she said. “He thinks he’s going to get me back, I think? Or he just wants to prove that he can. Oh God,” she said again, and her tone broke his damn heart.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Charlene snapped her head up, startled. Confused. Looked right at him.
Luke cupped her soft cheek with his free hand and held her eyes with his own.
“He’s not coming anywhere near you again,” he said. “He’s not going to hurt you ever again.”
Charlene blinked, and tears came away in her lashes. He wanted to kiss them away.
“You can’t really promise that,” she said softly.
“I can,” Luke said. “I am. Jimmy Walters is never going to hurt you ever again. I promise you that, Charlie.”
The ferocity in his own voice surprised him for a second, but he meant it. Charlene might not know it yet, but she had a protector.
And he was damn good at protecting.
Why do I believe him?
It was ridiculous. It was all ridiculous. Charlene was practically sitting in Luke’s lap, warm and wrapped up in his arms, and when he said he’d protect her, she believed him. Unreservedly.
Which was proof her brains were scrambled.
And that was her own fault.
Because, against all sense, she’d let him hold her. Hold her. And clearly Luke could keep it platonic, but for Charlene it was a deliciously evil form of torture. Every point of contact between them burned. She knew, without looking, exactly where his arm wrapped around her back, where his hand rested on her thigh. That heat had worked its way into her core, and now she wanted him so badly she could feel it with every single beat of her heart. Being this close to him meant a constant heat, and being this close to heat for this long meant fire. And fire meant getting burned.
But first it meant scrambled brains.
“Good call on the not-making-any-decisions thing,” she murmured. She let herself squeeze his hand once, as a thank you—he had just stepped in when he saw her hurt. He’d stepped in and helped.
Charlene still didn’t know what to make of that, exactly, but she knew she didn’t have the self-control to keep this up for long.
She forced herself to sit up.
Don’t look at him.
“What’s wrong?” Luke demanded. She could hear the concern in his voice.
“Can I get up now?” she asked.
And she immediately felt like an idiot. He wasn’t her Dom, she wasn’t his sub, and even if that had been an option, that level of D/s had never been her bag. Why the hell had she just asked permission?
“Yes,” he said. And put his hand on her back.
Charlene blinked, and forced herself to stand up. She still had the blanket wrappe
d around her—good. It felt protective. That was the only way she could turn and look at Luke Logan without melting into a puddle of hormones.
“You said you’d make sure Jimmy never hurt me again,” she said, and finally locked eyes with Luke. It was like staring into a headlight. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t done talking yet—because what she had to say was important.
“And I meant it,” he said again, deadly serious.
“Well, I can pretty much guarantee you that Jimmy is going to hurt someone,” she said. “Eventually.”
Luke’s eyes didn’t falter, they didn’t deflect or smile. He took her seriously.
Which freaking terrified her. A man who could see through her like this, who was this sexy, who believed her? The cool aunt on Charlene’s shoulder was freaking out. Charlene was freaking out. Why had she felt compelled to tell him the truth about Jimmy? There was no way she could handle this level of contact all the time. I’m going to have to plan this wedding at ludicrous speed.
“What does that mean?” he said, standing up.
God, he just towered over her.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” she said as her brain faltered. “It’s stupid. It’s just that Jimmy told me he’s joined Alan Crennel’s club. I think it’s called Sinsations? And…”
She trailed off. Luke’s expression had darkened, his brow furrowed, his eyes serious.
“What did I say?” she said.
Luke did that unnerving thing where he studied her—read her. Charlene couldn’t help but wonder about what he was looking for, but then she remembered—he’d been about to tell her something, at the florist. He’d said she was right about something.
Before she could ask, Luke answered her question.
“Gavin is a paranoid son of a bitch, and he thought there might be something funny going on with the wedding,” Luke said. “I thought he was ridiculous. Only he was right, and I was wrong.”
Charlene looked at him. He was serious.
“You think someone is sabotaging a wedding?” she asked.
Luke looked at her carefully.
“I saw Crennel driving away from that florist,” he said.
