by Bella Andre
“Appointment? In the middle of the night?”
“Do you think we're stupid enough to believe that?”
Yes, actually she did.
During the short exchange she could feel Luke simmering beside her, but even though his coming in and taking over was a total turn-on, it had also started to piss her off a little bit.
She could take care of herself, thank you, had been doing just that for twenty-nine years. Well, apart from the fact that Lily had pretty much raised her after their parents died, she'd been going it alone her whole life.
Deciding to show all of them that it was her apartment, damn it, and she'd decide who stayed and who left, using every bit of strength in her small body, she wrenched herself out of Luke's vise hold, picked up the guys’ jackets and carried them over to the open door.
“Sorry this didn't work out.”
Clearly furious, they stomped across the room and yanked their jackets from her.
“Cock tease.”
Before she even realized he'd moved, Luke had Nick's shirt in his fists.
“Don't you ever talk to a woman like that again.” Each word held a world of menace. “Apologize to her, asshole.” He waited a beat and when nothing came, he said, “Right fucking now.”
Nick's face was beet red and Janica wasn't at all sure that he could breathe.
“Sorry,” he squeaked out.
She nodded her acceptance of his apology. The truth was she'd been called worse. Frankly, she'd barely even registered the insult.
“It's okay, Luke,” she said softly. “You can let him go.” It was long past time for this train wreck to end.
All she wanted was for Nick and Jarod to leave so that she could be alone with Luke again. Her lips were still tingling from his kiss.
She wanted more.
So much more.
With what was obviously great reluctance, Luke dropped Nick's shirt and let him stumble backward into the hall.
“Come on, man,” Jarod said. “There's still time to pick someone else up if we hurry.”
Luke slammed her front door shut so hard she half expected the neighbors to come knocking to make sure she was okay.
“What the fuck were you doing with them?”
He looked so angry, almost disgusted, that it kicked all of her defensive urges into gear.
It was her life, thank you very much. And until tonight, he hadn't seemed to care one way or another what she did with it.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared back at him. “Exactly what you think.”
“Jesus.” The word was more of a curse than any of his earlier “fucks” or “assholes” were. “You were going to take two of them.”
Before she could tell him that while that was her initial intention, she wasn't actually going to follow through on it, he had her shoulders gripped hard in his hands again.
He didn't press her up against his body this time. Instead, she was totally immobilized by his strength. She'd known he was in great shape, that his muscles were cut and ripped, but now that she was getting to know the feel of his hands on her, the truth was he was so much stronger than she'd thought.
“How many times have you done it?”
Looking up at his beautiful face, she got snared in his green eyes, and any chance she had of speaking was lost.
“Tell me, damn you. How many three-ways have you had?”
Forcing her brain to process his gritty request, she finally got out, “None.”
His eyes flashed with relief a split second before wariness—and disbelief—took over. His hands tightened on her shoulders again. “Don't lie to me.”
Okay, now that just made her mad. How dare he accuse her of lying!
Going on her tippy toes so that her face was barely an inch from his, she spoke each word distinctly. “I. Don't. Lie.”
She always told the truth. Even when it hurt. Even when it would be so much better to spin out an easy lie.
There was a heavy pause where his eyes held hers and she thought he was going to kiss her again. She held her breath waiting for it.
Instead he said, “You were going to do it. Tonight.”
She was surprised to see more than anger in his gaze. There was jealousy there, too. And concern. Had he actually been afraid for her safety?
A part of her wanted to push out of his arms and defend herself and tell him that she'd gotten out of far stickier situations with no problems. But another part—the part that had needed Luke for too damn long—had her moving closer to him and saying, “I was just about to send them home, Luke. I thought I could do it. I thought I wanted to do it. But I didn't. I couldn't.”
How could I enjoy having a three-way with a couple of strangers when the only person I really want is you?
Chapter Three
Janica Ellis was one of the most vibrant, self-confident, overtly sexual women he’d ever met. Even though she was only five years younger than he was, she'd always struck him as too young. Too raw. Way too out in the open. He didn't date girls like her, didn't see the point when it was clear that there was no future in it.
As he held her body close to his, Luke had to wonder how Janica and Lily could possibly be related. Because even though they looked nothing like each other—Lily was tall and curvy and soft with flowing red curls while Janica was small, all angles and lines with jet black hair—their differences stretched far beyond the physical.
Lily, Luke’s best friend from elementary school, was the most giving, caring, loyal person he’d ever known.
Whereas everything about Janica screamed TAKE.
And yet, she was the only person he could face tonight. Was it because she was the only person he knew who wouldn't judge him—or feel a speck of pity—over the fact that his world was imploding?
Or, he had to ask himself, still tasting her sweetness on his lips, was it simply about sex?
Hot, sweaty, slippery sex.
From the moment his lips had touched hers, his dick had been rock hard. It was sick for his sister-in-law, someone he'd known since she was in pigtails – and had told himself he didn't much liked - to give him a woody. Lord knew that was what he’d been telling himself for the past five years. But none of that mattered right now.
He was sick of being the good guy all the time. He was exhausted from fighting his desire for Janica. And he was done not taking what she gave so freely to anyone else with a heartbeat.
Sick. And getting sicker by the second. He knew it. And on any other night he would have fought against his baser urges, the way he usually did. He would have put nobility first and lust second. But he was too tired, too burnt out, too skeptical about the whole damn world and his part in it to bring himself to care, to stop the train he was on before it slammed into a brick wall.
A beautiful, erotic brick wall.
His cock shot up another inch beneath the zipper of his jeans as he drank her in, forcing everything that had happened in the ER out of his head.
Watching him watch her, Janica's eyes flashed a mixture of confusion and desire. And then, in a flash, the uncertainty disappeared, replaced with her usual feisty attitude.
He held her challenging gaze, silently acknowledging that they hadn’t had an easy relationship since their siblings got married. They’d been forced together for countless lunches, dinners, and holidays, and the truth was he'd never gone out of his way to be particularly nice to her. Not when he'd made up his mind about Janica years ago in defense of his best friend, Lily, deciding that Janica was a selfish little girl who took everything she could from her older sister and rarely gave anything back.
A voice in the back of his head said, Are you sure that's why you stayed away from her? Or were you afraid that if you ever let yourself have a taste of heaven, you wouldn't be able to pull yourself away from her? Because you just might find out that you like her more than you want to.
What the hell was wrong with him tonight? Why was his brain playing tricks on him?
He nee
ded to shut off the voice of reason that said to get the fuck out while he still had his pants on and stick with the plan. What had happened in the trauma center tonight had made him a different man. One he wasn’t sure he’d like in the morning, but one who knew exactly what he wanted.
Janica.
He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone, or anything, his whole life.
For the first time in thirty-five years he was completely lacking in moral fiber. But what did it really matter in the end? His twin, Travis, had been the biggest dog Luke knew. And even though he'd simply used women for their bodies, disrespecting their feelings all the while, he’d found true love with Lily anyway. Now he had a wife. Kids. A family.
Travis had real happiness.
What had being the good guy ever gotten Luke?
A couple of “perfect” girlfriends that he hadn't been able to fall in love with, no matter how hard he tried. And a job that was slowly killing him.
The dark side reeled him in and he no longer bothered trying to resist.
“Everything’s different tonight,” he told Janica and when she simply said, “Yes,” then kissed him, her mouth on his was all it took to seal his deal with the devil.
Luke Carson's saint days were through.
Chapter Four
Janica couldn't get enough of Luke.
She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath his clothes as her hands roamed down his back, then back up and across his broad, muscular shoulders, but it wasn't good enough. She wanted to know the feel of him beneath her fingertips.
Skin on skin.
Let the love begin.
Oh yeah.
She couldn't remember ever feeling like this, so utterly consumed by a man, so frantic to get him naked, to feast her eyes and hands and mouth on every inch of his body. Sex had always been at the top of her favorite-things list, but this desire—this total, all-encompassing need—was something else entirely.
So different, in fact, that as she yanked his T-shirt out of his pants and broke their kiss long enough to pull it up over his head, she started freaking out a little bit.
Because with his torso bared before her, with all of that hard heat at her disposal to caress and run her tongue across, she wanted so many things so powerfully all at once that instead of being able to do any of them she found herself paralyzed.
Pressing her hands flat against his chest, she could feel the beating of his heart against her palms. A hard, fast pounding that mirrored her own heartbeat.
So many years she'd dreamed of this moment, so many years she'd thought it would never come, and now that it had, she felt almost frightened.
She lifted her eyes to his at the exact moment that her heart said, I love you.
No.
She stumbled back from Luke, or tried to, but his arms were faster than she was.
She hadn't read love in his eyes at any point so far tonight, only lust. Pure lust. And now he was saying, “Yes or no?” in a low voice that rumbled through her entire body like a sensual earthquake.
Oh god. It couldn't be true.
She couldn't be in love with Luke.
Of all the stupid things to feel for him, love was definitely the stupidest.
She swallowed hard, made herself locate her voice, which felt like it had dropped way down deep into her toes.
“To what question?”
“Tonight. This. You and me.”
Ah, now she got it. He was asking her if she could forget about who they were. About their past. About how this could thoroughly complicate their future. He was asking her to make a choice between risking everything she was for this one night...or running scared from it.
She hadn't been afraid of anything for a very long time. So why, she wondered helplessly, was she afraid now?
And why had her brain actually thrown the word love into the mix?
His hands were warm on the small of her back, just above the curve of her ass. The heat of his bare chest radiated out to her as she stood in his arms. A bone-deep longing to shut her eyes and lay her head against him while he held her close hit her hard.
God, what was wrong with her tonight? Here she was on the verge of getting everything she'd ever wanted and instead of grabbing Luke with both hands, dragging him to her bedroom, and having her dirty way with him, she was freaking out.
“Yes or no?” he repeated.
She tried to say yes, but all she could get out was, “You already know the answer.”
He shook his head, just as she'd known he would. He wasn't the kind of man you could fool. He was too smart. Too quick.
“I want to hear you say it, Janica. I need to hear you say it.”
His need rocked through her. She couldn't say no to him. Just as she couldn't say no to herself, to her own desperate need.
She licked her lips. Opened her mouth. Finally whispered, “Yes.”
That one small word was all it took for him to take over. His hands moved so fast from her back to the low neckline of her short black dress that her breath caught in her throat.
Through the thin fabric she could feel his hands on the curves of her breasts and her nipples beaded almost painfully. Because she was small enough to let the built-in bra in the dress do the work of keeping everything in place, her nipples jutted out at him, silently begging him to touch her.
A split second later, he ripped the front of her dress open, fully exposing her breasts to his hungry eyes.
She gasped in shock. Who was this man, she wondered as she instinctively moved to cover herself.
Before she could, his hands came around her wrists to hold her arms at her sides.
“No. Let me see you.” His chest was rising and falling hard. “I've waited so damn long.”
His eyes burned her skin, causing a flush to travel all across her breasts. But the heat did nothing to stop her nipples from hardening further.
“My God, you're beautiful.”
No one had ever looked at her this way, like she was absolutely, impossibly perfect.
“So beautiful, Janica, I can't believe it.”
She tried to say something but she still couldn't catch her breath. Not with her dress ripped open to her waist. Not with Luke's eyes drinking her in. Not with those wonderful things coming from his mouth.
Not with her wrists immobilized by his strong grip.
And then he was bending his head down and she felt the first flutter of his soft hair against her collarbone as he lowered his mouth down over one breast.
A low, uncontrollable moan of pleasure shook her throat. She wanted to put her hands on the back of his head, hold him there forever against her, but he wouldn't let her go.
All she could do was stand there and let him taste her.
Oh my god. His tongue. And then—yes, yes, yes!—his teeth were lightly scoring her sensitive flesh.
“Luke.”
His name was a plea. For mercy.
Or maybe, for the exact opposite.
And that was when she realized he understood her better than she did herself, because instead of letting up, instead of giving her a chance to catch her breath, he shifted his dangerous attention from one breast to the other.
The touch of his lips, his tongue, the dark stubble on his jaw, stroking across her untouched skin, sent another jolt of pure desire through her, head to toe, strong enough that she didn't know how her body was managing to hold it all inside without breaking apart.
She arched into his mouth to get closer, every cell in her body focused on three square inches. His jaw was covered in rough stubble and she loved the way it felt as it scraped and scratched against her skin.
And then his mouth was traveling up over the small curves of her breasts, across her collarbone, settling in the hollow. His tongue tasted her there, and it struck her that feeling Luke's kiss on her shoulder was one of the most erotic moments of her life, outranking every orgasm she'd ever had with anyone else.
She wanted to taste him too, wanted to r
un her hands and mouth over every inch of his beautiful body. But he was still holding her too tight.
She tried to pull herself out of his bonds and his hands tightened on her wrists.
He pulled his mouth away from her skin. His eyes were dark, dangerous.
“Don't fight me. Not tonight.”
It wasn't just the sensual spell he had wound around her or the look in his eyes that had her giving in. It was the fact that those five words, said in such a commanding voice, held not only more desire than she'd ever known, but also more pain.
Luke needed her.
She'd never been the kind of woman who looked for broken men to try and heal. But Luke wasn't just any man. He had always been special. Even when she wished he wasn't.
“Okay,” she whispered. “I won't.”
Pleasure flared in his eyes, but instead of his mouth coming down on hers again, hot and hard and hungry, he released her wrists and a moment later his strong, warm fingers were stroking her hair, the tops of her shoulders, the backs of her arms. Like a cat, she rubbed against his hands.
For how rough he'd been with her dress, considering how tightly he'd held her to him, now his touch was gentle. But still all-consuming.
And with the real world completely suspended on its axis for one night, it was the most natural thing in the world to look at him and say, “I've always thought you were so beautiful.”
But it wasn't enough to say it, she had to feel his beauty, had to get inside it, become a part of it. She raised her hands to his face, pressed her thumb to his lips, her other hand stroking the light stubble across his jaw. More words floated into her brain and she knew how good it would feel to say them aloud.
“I've wanted to touch you for so long, from the first moment I saw you.”
She waited for a flash of regret at telling him a truth she'd hidden from him for so long, but it never had a chance to come. Not when his eyes were burning with desire as he looked down at her, his hands now at the small of her back, pulling her even closer. And then he was turning his face into her hand, his tongue brushing against the tip of her thumb.
