“I have my ways.” Luke started the truck and backed out of the driveway. He looked over at Ava when they stopped at the end of the street. “Good?”
“So good,” she mumbled around a mouthful. She licked a bit of chocolate off her fingers then paused. “Did you want some?”
Luke smiled. God she was pretty, her hair pulled back in a pony tail, a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. “No, thanks. I’d like to keep my hand.” He watched her eat the rest in three bites then pushed a cold bottle against her hand. “Careful, it’s already open. Water.”
She took a long drink then stuffed in the last bite.
“How did the return of the prodigal daughter go after I left yesterday?”
“Fine.” She said, making a face. “You’d think I was eighteen. I do feel bad, I shouldn’t have made them worry, but my mom was actually about to call the police.”
“Yikes. Guess I’m in the dog house, too.”
Ava waved it off. “Just ignore them.”
Hard to ignore Ryan shooting daggers at him from a few feet away and Ava’s mother eyeing him like a creepy kidnapper. Or like he’d just deflowered her daughter after the prom. It’d been even harder to ignore the change in Ava. She’d looked so forlorn, repeatedly apologizing, reassuring. There’d been nothing of the laughing girl who’d driven a truck through an open field.
“Now do you see the appeal of the city?”
“I’m beginning to,” he said.
“Thanks for getting me out today. You were right, I needed it. Dad did great with his PT this morning so I don’t feel so bad.”
They pulled into the YMCA lot and Luke parked. Seconds later he was opening the passenger door. “Come on. Let’s see that world class swimmer.”
“I don’t need you to walk me in. And I’m not swimming with you watching me.”
“You’ve still got a little chocolate right… here.” He leaned in, kissed her, stroked his tongue over her bottom lip. “And I’m not going to be watching you. I’m going to be swimming.”
“You’re not a member.”
“How do you know? Okay, I’m not but I am a citizen. They’ve got to let me use the Y don’t they?”
“It doesn’t work like that. You have to register and pay a fee or come as a guest.”
“Great. That’s what you’re for.” He grabbed her bag and took her hand. “Come on. You’re not afraid to swim against me are you? Afraid you’ll lose?”
Her lips were pressed together, pursed, but she was cracking. He could see it.
“If I raced you, I wouldn’t lose.”
“Huh. Care to have a little wager?” This time when he tugged on her hand, she climbed out of his truck.
“Do you even have a bathing suit?”
“No. But I have on shorts.”
“They’re not going to let you swim in shorts.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed like she was annoyed but she couldn’t hide the smile.
She didn’t speak to him as she signed in then signed him in as a guest. Didn’t speak to him as she used her cane to go to the ladies’ locker room. He found himself a suit at the counter, had to pay fifty dollars for it as it was an extra swim team suit, but he considered himself lucky.
He still had to wait and began to wonder if she was going to hide out in the locker room. She wouldn’t sneak past him would she? Called a cab and left without telling him? She might have. She was just that stubborn he thought, with a smile.
He was striding toward the locker room when he saw her come out and it stopped him in his tracks.
A bold, red one–piece that fit her body like a glove. Molded to her body. She held a towel in one hand, her stick in the other as she made tentative steps toward the pool side. He knew she could do it without his help, but he went to her.
“Hey,” he said just a fraction of a second after he touched her arms and made her jump. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m going to stop doing that. I promise.”
She laid her hand on his arm. “Why do you move like a ghost anyway?”
“Bad habit.” He walked beside her, following her lead as she went to put her things on a chair. Using her stick, she counted the distance from the chair to the edge of the water, then walked along the edge, dragging her stick until it hit the corner of the pool. Marking her location.
She made her way back to her chair and when she was satisfied, laid her stick down and counting her steps, went back to the pool. And that’s when he saw it. A stark, brownish–green mark on her upper arm. He drew in a long breath through his nose. “You said you didn’t bruise easy.”
“What?”
“There’s a bruise. On your arm.” He lightly ran his finger over it. “Those men. They hurt you. Touched you.”
Goosebumps broke out on her arm and she rubbed at the bruise. “It doesn’t hurt and I’m fine. Can we just forget about it? Please?”
“Okay.” Because how could he say no? He didn’t think he’d be able to say no to anything she asked.
She squatted down, went over the edge to stand in the chest high water. He followed, thinking they’d talk a minute, get used to the water because it was damn cold, but no. She was off the wall and swimming toward the other end.
He waited for her to swim down and back, watching her long, fluid strokes. She had the grace and strength of a true athlete. Perfect form, her toned arms rising out of the water then slicing through it. Her legs and feet churned a wake of force behind her. She only turned to breathe every third stroke.
On her third time back, he stepped to the center of the lane to intercept her and nearly got smacked in the face.
“Hey! I’m swimming here.”
“I see that. I thought you might want to take a break for a second.”
“Nope.” She didn’t want to take a break, didn’t want to stop and talk to him or think about the two of them in the cabin yesterday. The fact that he’d brought her her favorite pastry. She just wanted to swim and swim and swim. She didn’t need to see when she was swimming.
“Ready for that race?”
“You really want to race me? You haven’t even warmed up.”
“Don’t need to,” he said, reaching for her under the water.
“No, no, no,” she said, skirting back from his hands. “What’s the bet?”
“How about dinner?”
“Meaning what? If you win I go and if I win I don’t go?” That didn’t sound like a win for her and she was confident she would beat him.
“No,” he said, moving in again, stealing a quick kiss from her wet lips. “Meaning if I win you pay.”
“You’re so sure of yourself aren’t you?”
“So are you. In fact you look smug.”
“I never look smug. I’m always gracious, win or lose. But I do need my own lane.” She pointed. “Get your own.”
He ducked under the rope, put his hand on the wall behind him. “Okay. Ready?”
She nodded. “On your mark, get set, go!”
He had to admit he hadn’t expected them to be so evenly matched. But where he had a longer reach and more power, she had technique. She also didn’t seem distracted by him as he was with her.
She touched the wall a full stroke ahead of him. Her chest was heaving as she stood in the chest deep water.
“You cheated.”
“What? I did not!”
He ducked under the lane rope and came up beside her. “You did.” He shoved his wet hair back, slowly moving into her space. “That little flip thing you did? That wasn’t agreed upon.”
“It didn’t have to be agreed upon. It’s a common skill.”
“For competitive swimmers maybe.” He slipped his hands around her waist under the water.
She slid her hands up his bare chest and over his shoulders. The man was built, she thought. “Any ten-year-old can do it.”
She splayed her fingers over his back, soaking up the feel of his bare skin under her hands. His thumbs teased over her h
ips and she remembered how his fingers had done just that the day before. Her heartbeat was up from her laps, but she shouldn’t be this short of breath. Shouldn’t feel like she couldn’t breathe, hear her blood thundering in her ears.
When he went in for the kiss, and she met him. Stroke for stroke, rising up on her toes to get closer, linking her arms around his neck. He moved from her mouth, over her jaw and nipped at her ear.
He had her pressed so tightly to his body, she felt him grow hard against her stomach. When she pressed her lips to his wet neck, licked a drop of water there before sucking lightly, he groaned and she felt the power surge through her.
She heard the shrill sound of a whistle, ignored it. The whistle blast came again, closer.
“Hey! You can’t do that.”
Luke lifted his head, but didn’t loosen his hold on her. “Sure. Sorry.”
“Oh, my gosh. Did we just get busted for PDA in a YMCA swimming pool?”
“We did. And the kid who busted us doesn’t look old enough to drive.”
She laughed, hid her face against his chest. “Please tell me there’s no water aerobics going on. My mother will never be able to show her face again.”
“No aerobics, but there is a group of ladies staring at us. Come on. Let’s go again.”
“I’d like to do a few more laps, but the race is over. I won. I’ll just be thinking of where I want dinner.” She pushed off the wall ahead of him.
When she went to climb out twenty minutes later, it took everything in him not to help her to the chair where she’d left her things. She didn’t need him so he stepped back, dripping on the tile pool deck.
She dried off, rubbing the towel down her legs so slowly he would swear she was doing it just to torture him.
“I’ll go change and then we can go.”
“Okay.”
“You didn’t bring a towel did you?”
“I’ll air dry.”
She rolled her eyes, and pushed her damp towel at him. “Wash off the chlorine. It’s bad for your skin.”
He was waiting for her when she came out of the ladies’ locker room. This time he remembered to give her some kind cue before he touched her. And this time she put her hand on his arm and let him lead her to the car. “You sure that flip thing is legal?”
“I’m sure.”
He opened the door for her and went around the hood as she buckled into the passenger’s seat. He cranked the engine, noticed the chill bumps on her arms and cranked up some heat. “Did you decide where you want to go for that dinner?”
“Um…I was thinking we could order in.”
“No way. I pay my debts. I said I’d take you out and…Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” She leaned over the center console and met his lips.
“I’m slow.”
“We already knew that. Thus, I am the winner.”
26
Ava’s nerves jittered on what seemed like an endless drive to the cabin. She was a grown woman, she knew what she wanted, but this was Luke and there were nerves.
When they finally, finally arrived, he turned off the truck. He made no move to get out, but she heard him shift in his seat.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she said back. She could tell by the sound of his voice he was facing her. Looking at her. Waiting for her?
“We’re here.”
“Yeah. I figured that,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“Ava. We don’t—”
“No.” She faced him. “I want you. I’m scared to want you as much as I do, but I do.”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
There was no cabin tour this time. There was only one goal and they both knew what it was. They’d fought it as long as they could. The second the door closed behind them, Luke pressed her body back against it, took her mouth with the same ferocious need that she felt. The kiss was hot, wild, his hands possessive and strong as his hard body pressed into hers.
She gripped his shoulders as he took her mouth like he was starving for her. Like he couldn’t get enough. Neither could she. She raked her fingers through his hair, moaned into his mouth when he slipped a heavy thigh between her legs.
“Ava.” He said her name roughly, his lips streaking a hot path down her throat. “I want you under me. Over me. I want to move inside you and watch those eyes when you come apart.”
His hands skimmed up her body, thigh to breast, setting every nerve on fire. He held there, molding her breast in his hand.
* * *
Ava sucked in a breath when Luke lifted her, wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing his erection against her core. Her mind blurred as they hit the bed still wrapped around each other. Rolled, kissed as they stripped off clothing, fighting to free themselves. Her top then her jeans. His shirt and shoes. She was going for the button on his jeans when he pulled back.
The warmth of his chest was gone from hers and she felt a chill of air. She could hear his rapid breathing, feel the weight of his body on the mattress beside her.
“Luke?” She moved to cover herself and he stopped her hand.
“No. Don’t move. Please. Just give me a second.”
She couldn’t read his eyes, had no idea what he was thinking, feeling. And she hated the little gallop in her heart that wanted to run. “Luke.” She reached out, felt his wrist on the bed beside her. She ran her hand up his arm, felt the tension there. “You have to tell me what you’re thinking.”
“What?”
“I can’t see your face. I don’t know what you’re thinking. If you’re changing your mind or—”
“Ava, baby.” He cupped her face and maybe now more than ever he felt what it was to be her. To not see, to not know. He leaned over her, took her mouth again mixing tenderness with heat. “I’m looking at you …dumbstruck. There’s no other word for it.” He trailed one finger slowly down her chest between her breasts. “I’ve wanted you since the first minute I saw you.”
“No, you didn’t,” she said breathless. “You thought I was drunk.”
“Since the first second. You in that dress, your hair that I was dying to touch. And your eyes. Damn when you looked at me with those eyes…”
He cupped one breast, grazed the rough pad of his thumb over her nipple. She gasped and he did it again, then it wasn’t his thumb, it was his mouth, hot and hungry.
He moaned as his hands cupped and stroked, his hungry mouth moved from one to the other and she felt that burn of pleasure rising inside her. Felt the heat like a tide and distantly heard him moaning, felt the hard erection pressed against her leg.
“It’s been awhile,” she said, as his teeth grazed the line of her throat.
“For me, too. Afraid you forgot?”
He pressed smiling lips to the skin of her throat, stayed there a minute and she shuddered.
“Forgot? No,” she said, on a shaky breath. “Remember it feeling like this? Never.”
* * *
Luke watched the desire in the rising color on her cheeks. Elation filled him as Ava opened for him and he delved into the sweetness of her mouth. How long had he known her? He couldn’t think clearly enough to do the math, but it felt like he’d been waiting forever to kiss her like this. Touch her like this.
Her breasts were small, pale and so perfect he may have whispered a prayer. He cupped one in his hand and watched her eyes close, heard her sigh. He wanted her trembling with need. Wanted to watch her face when he took her over the edge.
Every touch with his hands and mouth was pure heaven. And she managed to hold off any thoughts that would darken it. Luke was her friend, her lover and she wanted him. And for the first time in a long time felt very much wanted in return.
He came over her, took his time, using lips and hands. Going back to her mouth again and again, moving down her body until she was hot, wet. Until she was begging.
“Now,” she said. Her hands pulled at his hair, his shoulders. “I want you inside me.”
He grabb
ed a condom, then he was over her, her soft legs parting for him. The wild need he’d tried to bury burst to the surface. With his own blood roaring in his ears, he drove into her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, clutched there. When she rose to meet him stroke for stroke, his heart rammed into his throat.
He could have gone over, could have driven them both, but she slowed, drawing it out, driving them both mad with it. But he gave them just enough before pulling back then filling her again. He’d wanted women before but he’d never felt this razor-sharp edge of need. He fought for the patience and control he’d honed the past twenty years.
He watched her. Her face, her breasts swaying, the flush on her chest. Her legs were open to him, wound around him. Her body gripped him, dragged at him, then pulled him back in. But when he felt her tighten around him, heard her strangled cry of release, all this violent need he felt for her erupted. He drove into her, thrust deep and went over.
When he came back to himself, his face was pressed into the side of her neck. Strands of her hair stuck to his cheek. He shifted, took in her closed eyes and slack, satisfied expression. Rolling, he brought her limp body into his side, stroked a hand down her back over smooth, damp skin, and felt pretty damn satisfied himself.
* * *
Ava lay there, trying to recover from the mind-blowing sex she’d just had. She felt each beat of Luke’s heart under her hand. He was so warm, so hard, her hand moved over his chest savoring the warmth. She’d needed this, hadn’t known how much until it had happened.
Her fingers touched something small and cool and metal. She rubbed it between her fingers, felt the raised grooves on the small oval shape.
“Saint Christopher,” he told her. “Hannah gave it to me years ago. Figured it’d be bad luck to thumb my nose at the saints by not wearing it.”
She moved her fingers over the medal again, thought about all the moments Luke must have needed a saint on his side.
“Hungry?”
She smiled against his chest. “Are you asking me if I am or telling me you are?”
Waiting On the Rain Page 20
