by Nina Lane
“It is.” His breath expelled on a sigh. “It’s a fundraising dinner for my mother’s foundation, and my aunt Julia is the one organizing it. She’s expecting me to bring a date or she’ll unleash her ninja match-making skills on me.”
“I take it that’s a bad thing?”
“With her, it is. Besides, I don’t want to be match-made with anyone except you.”
Polly tried not to let that little remark nestle right in the middle of her heart.
“Will the rest of your family be there?”
“Some of them. If that’s a deal-breaker, I get it.”
“It’s not.” She paused, then confessed, “I don’t think there are any deal-breakers here.”
He glanced at her. “None?”
“Well, if you turn out to be a secret ultra-villain, I might have some reservations,” Polly said, “or if your favorite band is Black Sabbath, then we’re done. But other than that, no.”
“Does that mean you’ll come to the exhibition opening?”
“That depends. Are you asking me as a date or just a woman you take to social events?”
“Definitely a date.”
“Then I accept. Thank you for asking me.”
They exchanged smiles. Curious though Polly was about everything—Luke’s family, his mother, the foundation, even his match-making aunt—she suppressed the questions bubbling in her mind. The deeper she delved into Luke’s life, the more difficult it would be to extricate herself when the time came.
Whenever that might be.
She nudged her hip against his. “So you’ve never been in love, huh?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You said love was just about pheromones or whatever. So I assume you’ve never actually been in love, or you decided the feeling was like a post-workout endorphin rush.”
Luke shrugged. “I’ve had that rush for a woman, yeah. But it doesn’t last.”
Because by definition, a rush didn’t last. Especially a sugar rush. Sure, she enjoyed the bag of candy while she was wolfing it down, but eventually she ended up with plunging glucose levels and a stomachache.
Polly flicked her toes in the water, creating a series of ripples.
I can’t make you any promises.
You deserve something long-lasting and I can’t give that to you.
His words echoed in her mind, even though she wasn’t supposed to want anything long-lasting. At least, not from him. She’d just wanted a good time, some fun, as she jumpstarted her life again. No, she hadn’t thought about what would come after the jumpstart, but that was the point, right? Live in the moment. Eat the whole bag of candy.
She pulled her feet out of the water and stood, clutching the towel around her. She walked around to the far end of the pool, her feet making wet footprints on the travertine patio. She stopped at the edge of the deep end and looked into the water, seeing only lingering ripples and the hazy blur of her own reflection.
Her heart kicked against her ribs. She glanced up at Luke, almost feeling the burn of his gaze as he watched her. Gathering her courage, she took hold of the knot in the towel.
In one motion, she yanked it off and tossed the towel behind her. The cooler air brushed against her naked body for an instant before she dove headfirst into the pool. The water enveloped her in a wave, as cool and refreshing as lemonade spilling down her throat on a sweltering day. She swam deeper until her lungs protested, and then she shot upward and broke through the surface with a gasp.
She swiped the water off her face. Luke was still watching her, only his expression was hotter, his body lined with erotic tension. Polly flipped her wet hair away from her forehead.
“You coming in?” she called.
“Actually I might want to watch you swimming like a mermaid,” he replied. “I heartily approve of your choice of bathing suit.”
She swam closer to him, deliberately looking at his swim trunks.
“Have you ever skinny dipped before?” she asked.
“If I have, it wasn’t memorable.”
“Come on in, then.” She paused, treading water. “I’ll make it memorable for you.”
“Peach.” Luke slowly got to his feet, his gaze never leaving her. “You make everything memorable.”
He hitched his fingers into the waistband of his trunks. Polly’s breath caught, her heartbeat ratcheting up as he slid the trunks slowly off. He kicked them to the side and stood there with his hands on his hips, as if he knew quite well that just the sight of his naked body had a devastating effect on her senses.
After walking to the deep end, he dove into the pool, his body splitting through the water like a knife and disappearing beneath the surface. The sight of his long, muscular form coming right toward her sparked a pleasurable rush of apprehension. She turned and started to go in the other direction, wondering if she could outswim him, but then he came up beside her with the speed and grace of a shark.
With a breathless laugh, she swam faster. Luke’s hand clamped around her ankle. Flailing, she tried to yank herself away, but his grip was inexorable, and he grabbed her other leg and pulled her toward him. She surrendered quicker than she would have liked. They both stilled at the same time.
Polly was breathing fast, even though she hadn’t even swam the length of the pool. Luke’s eyes collided with hers. Water drops cascaded down the hard planes of his face and made his eyelashes all spiky. His gaze tracked over her neck to where her breasts bobbed just above the surface of the water.
She splashed him suddenly, letting out a shriek of laughter at the surprised look on his face. She bolted away, but only made it a few feet before his arms clamped around her waist and hauled her back against his solid naked body.
Oh . . .
All the breath escaped her lungs as Luke moved her over to the side of the pool, his hands coming around to caress her breasts. His lips, cold with water, pressed against the side of her neck.
Polly turned, her spine raining with shivers. She looked up into his face, his strong features that had become so familiar and dear to her. A warm, rich feeling flooded her heart.
“Tell me you believe in love,” she whispered.
His eyes flickered with an indefinable emotion. “I believe in you.”
And then he was kissing her before she even realized he’d moved closer. Her whole body zinged with heat. His mouth crushed against hers, hot and demanding. She gasped, her arms going up of their own volition to twine around his shoulders as she sank under the onslaught of his kiss.
He pressed his hands to her lower back and hauled her against him, so fast that their bodies collided with a force that caused the water to surge around them. Her breasts pressed against his hard, wet chest, her fingers curling into the sleek muscles of his shoulders.
Oh heavens . . .
Faint dizziness spun through her head as the kiss deepened. She opened her mouth and slid her tongue across his. He gripped her ass, and she lifted her legs to wrap them around his hips. A flame kindled low in her belly, streaming heat through her veins. Her nipples tightened, the friction against his skin sensitizing them further.
Luke moved them both through the water until her back touched the edge of the pool, then he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the travertine patio.
Water streamed from Polly’s hair down her face and body. She stared at him, struck by the feral glint in his eyes, his damp hair casting his features into sharp relief. Divested of corporate trappings, he exuded a primitive sex appeal, one that made her feel sinuous and free, like a wild strawberry plant flourishing in a sun-drenched field.
She pressed her hands to the sides of his jaw and lowered her lips to his again. Their mouths moved together seamlessly. The kiss lasted for seconds, it lasted for hours. He pulled away from her only to trail his mouth over her bare shoulder and down to her breasts. He breathed out a curse as he captured one of her nipples between his lips.
“Oh.” Polly moaned, wiggling on the stone floor as her sex began pu
lsing in response to the warm, delicious sensation of his mouth.
He pushed between her legs, trailing his lips over her breasts and up to the hot hollow of her throat. He flicked his tongue against her pulse before covering her mouth with his again.
“Wait,” she whispered, pressing his shoulders.
He lifted himself off her, his breath hot on her lips. “What?”
“Remember when I told you I’ve always dreamed of getting laid on a huge bed with feather pillows?” she asked breathlessly.
Luke gave a choked laugh. “I believe you said a four-poster bed with feather pillows.”
“Whatever. And remember that last time, we didn’t go all the way.” She put her hand on the back of his head and pulled him down to her.
“Let’s do it now,” she whispered.
He gave her another long deep kiss before hauling himself out of the water. Still dripping, he bent to slide one arm beneath her legs and the other around her back. He picked her up effortlessly, like she weighed no more than a delicate little cream puff, and strode toward his bedroom.
And though the water quickly cooled on Polly’s skin and left her cold and clammy, the unbearable sexiness of being masterfully carried to Luke’s bedroom heated her from the inside out. He lowered her onto the gorgeous bed and straddled her body, his gaze raking hotly over her bare breasts topped with stiff pink crests. His cock was almost fully erect, and the sight of the thickening shaft elicited a surge of arousal in her blood. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together.
“Hurry,” she whispered.
He shook his head, his eyes gleaming. He palmed her breasts, his long fingers tweaking her nipples. Delicious heat skimmed over her veins.
Luke moved lower, pressing kisses over her breasts and belly before gently parting her thighs. Before she understood, through her haze of desire, what he intended, he’d already spread her open with his fingers and stroked his tongue over her folds.
“Luke!”
He gave a muffled noise in response, shifting to hitch her legs over his shoulders as he began licking and sucking her with exquisite precision. Polly fisted the bedcovers, shocked arousal flooding her in a wave as he stroked his tongue around her clit and over her labia before pressing inside her.
“Luke, I’m. . . .” she panted, sweat breaking out on her skin. “Oh my god, that’s so . . . so fucking good . . . I’m going to . . .”
“Come on, Peach,” he murmured, capturing her clit gently between his lips. “Give it to me.”
She squirmed, unable to stop herself from pushing her lower body toward him, wordlessly begging for more. And he gave her more—thrusting his tongue in and out of her channel, rubbing his thumb around her aching clit, even sliding his finger down to the tight ring of her anus. She gasped, her body tensing in automatic defense, but his low murmurs and easy probing soon had her relaxing under his erotic ministrations.
“Luke.” She tightened her grip on the bedcovers, her arousal building to new heights. “It’s happening . . . now . . . now!”
With a cry, she bucked up against him when sensations suffused her body. Luke continued licking and stroking her until the vibrations ebbed, and then he pulled away to sit up slowly. Deep, dark satisfaction filled his eyes as he looked at her lying naked in front of him, her body flushed and damp.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to hers.
With a moan, she eased her hand between them, sliding her palm over the ridges of his chest and down to his fully erect cock. She swiped her thumb over the hard, wet tip, a fresh surge of lust blooming inside her.
“I need you,” she whispered.
He moved away from her only long enough to grab a condom and roll it onto his erection. The mattress dipped a little with his weight as he returned to her, his eyes smoldering and his muscles tense with urgency.
Polly thought they were both ready to get right down to the main event, but instead Luke covered her body with his and lowered his head to press light kisses across her face. He stroked his hands through her damp hair and kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, her lips, all the way down to her neck. He licked away a few lingering drops of water from her throat, then moved lower to kiss and caress her breasts and torso.
He pressed her thighs farther apart and lifted her knees, moving between them to position himself right at her opening. Even with her body still throbbing from an orgasm, the sensation of his cock right there—hard, hot, big—made her tense a little. She curled her fingers into the bedcovers, her breath coming in rapid pants.
Luke slipped his hand between her thighs and rubbed her sensitive clit before he slowly pushed into her. She inhaled sharply, every nerve sensitized as her body opened to accept the slow, heavy glide of his shaft.
“Oh . . .” She shifted, her heart racing.
The combined sensations of his fingers stimulating her clit and him thrusting into her so slowly sent her senses into a maelstrom. She wiggled her hips to encourage him to go deeper. His jaw clenched with self-restraint as he eased into her another couple of inches, leaning over her to brace his hands on either side of her head.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispered, his hot breath stirring the locks of hair on her forehead. “Open up wider, Peach. Let me in.”
Hadn’t she done that already? In a daze, she lifted her legs and hooked them around the backs of his thighs. Let him into her life, her body, even into her heart . . . ?
“Deeper,” she whispered, sliding her hands around to grip his back. “Fill me. Fuck me. Oh, yes.”
She arched her hips, her breasts rubbing against his chest. He groaned, sinking into her like a key fitting into a well-oiled lock. He clutched her hips, pulling back partway before thrusting into her again. Back and forth. Back and forth, the increasing rhythm pulsed through Polly’s blood in time with the beat of her heart.
“You’re like a goddamned glove,” Luke muttered.
Sweat trickled down his temples. His muscles flexed and strained beneath his taut skin.
Polly surrendered, falling into the swirl of lust as they moved together, rocking and thrusting. Tension coiled in her nerves. One more stroke of his fingers on her clit and she came again with a cry, her body lifting off the bed. And then Luke plunged inside her with a groan, hard shudders wracking him as he succumbed to his own pleasure.
They collapsed on the bed together, panting and sweating. He wrapped his arm around her, hauling her against his side. Their breathing slowed, and Polly resisted the urge to sink into the pull of sleep. As much as she wanted to spend the night curled into him as if she belonged there, she couldn’t give in to the allure of actually sleeping with Luke Stone again. It would be far too easy to get used to such a pleasure.
“I should get home,” she murmured. “Now that my apartment is like living in Fort Knox.”
“You’re not leaving tonight.”
A retort pushed up into her throat over his implacable tone, but she swallowed it back down. Hidden in Luke’s order was the unspoken reason he was making the demand in the first place. He didn’t want her to leave because he wanted her to stay. That filled her heart with both cautious hope and unease.
She rubbed her cheek on his chest. A little silver object resting on his nightstand caught her eye, and she reached over to pick it up. It took her a second to realize it was an elephant charm, exactly like the one she always carried in her macramé bag.
“Where did you get this?” She held it out.
“From your bag.”
Polly arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? You stole it from me?”
“I borrowed it,” he corrected, running his hand over her hip.
“What’s it doing next to your bed?”
He shrugged. “Whenever I see it, it reminds me of you.”
It sounded like a casual remark, but Polly sensed the meaning beneath, like a perfectly ripe, red cherry hidden inside a chocolate shell. Luke liked thinking about her. And being reminded of her.
“It’s a good luck charm.” She set the elephant charm back on the nightstand.
“Then it’s already worked for me because you’re here.”
Polly smiled. She trailed her fingers down the hard, hair-roughened length of his forearm to where his hand rested on her hip. She traced the outline of his knuckles and his long, beautiful fingers that touched her with such delicious expertise.
After taking hold of his wrist, Polly turned his hand so his palm faced upward.
“This is your life line.” She slid her finger over the curved line near his thumb. “Yours is quite strong and clear, which doesn’t surprise me. And you have a secondary line running parallel to it, which indicates great vitality.”
She pulled his hand closer and touched the small lines beneath his pinkie finger. “These are your money lines, which show that you’re intelligent and good with finances and investments. Your head line, here, is straight and extends to your pinkie. That means you have a very practical, analytical mind, but sometimes you think too much before making a decision instead of trusting your instincts. And your fate line indicates a strong, successful career and social status.”
She ran her fingertips lightly over his palm again. His hand twitched slightly in reaction to the tickling touch. She felt his gaze on her face.
“What about my heart line?” he asked.
“How do you know there’s a heart line?”
“Logic. If there’s a fate, head, and life line there has to be a heart line.”
She pretended to study his hand intently, though his heart line was the first thing she’d noticed about the pattern crisscrossing his palm.
“Your heart line is deep and clear.” She glided her finger over the curved line. “That shows you have a good love life and strong, secure emotions. But it’s also somewhat high on your palm, which means you’re cautious about commitment. And see how it straightens out here? That indicates you can be ruled by intellect rather than emotion. But it curves toward this finger and shows you’re a very passionate and intense lover.”
“Hmm.” His voice rumbled in his chest. “All that from a line on my palm?”
