Loving Lucas

by Lily Ryan

  “It’s not that bad, you’ve gone longer.”

  “Only because we didn’t see each other. That and I didn’t think you’d be into fooling around while we were broken up. If I knew you were game …”

  She hits my chest with the back of her hand.

  I take her hand and hold it tight as I move my head to within inches of hers. “Happy Anniversary, beautiful.”

  It’s been a year since the simple but beautiful wedding ceremony at the house that once served as my father’s office. Olivia expressed how much she missed going to work there, and since I own the property, I thought it was the perfect place.

  In a strange way, it made me feel good too. Like my father was there with us. We kept the guest list small, and each person there played some role in our relationship. Her parents and sister, my mother, Aunt Rose and her family, and last but not least my best man, Jessie.

  I can’t help but notice the sparks fly between him and Ava. The day after they met at the rehearsal, she kicked Spike to the curb, and said she was ready for a grown-up relationship.

  The nurse comes in wheeling the portable crib. “She was just crying a minute ago, but it looks like the princess fell back asleep. If you change her diaper, it should wake her.”

  The nurse unravels the blanket enveloping our beautiful little girl and nudges her. “See,” she turns to me, “Would you like to do it?”

  “Yes, please.” I’ve been waiting since the moment I found out Olivia was pregnant to hold our child. In the hours since she was born, I’ve only held her a few minutes. I don’t want to wait anymore. If it means I have to change a dirty diaper first, so be it.

  “He’s a keeper,” the nurse says to Olivia, before heading out of the room.

  A jealous spark lights my wife’s eyes. I love how possessive and jealous she gets over me. It’s such a turn on.

  “Are you going to the center?” She asks, once we are alone.

  “Hell, no. They’ll survive a week without me. Besides, my mother’s like a drill sergeant. She’ll make sure it runs like a well-oiled machine.”

  “The kids will miss you though.”

  I smile, “Right now there’s just one little girl that needs me, and I want to give her my undivided attention.”

  Life is perfect since we’ve gotten back together. The center opened a month after we reconciled, and like me, Olivia puts in countless hours overseeing its running so I could work my magic with the kids.

  It’s fun watching her watch me. I enjoy how she blushes when I catch her staring at my ass as I redirect inappropriate behavior or swing a child up in the air in celebration.

  The center’s closed. We’re wiping everything down. I pick Olivia up and spin her around so that her feet leave the ground.

  “I love seeing you smile, and knowing I help put it on your face.”

  “I love what you do here, seeing the way the kids respond to you. You really have a way with them.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.” I say, carefully placing her back on the ground.

  “The money was supposed to go to you all along,” she assures me for the thousandth time. “He wanted your dream to come true.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” I stroke her hair, making sure she isn’t further than a breath away. “Waking up next to you in the morning, knowing you’re going to be in our bed when I come home at night. You keep me inspired and motivated.”

  “Is that what you call it? I thought I keep you hot and horny.”

  I swat her ass playfully. “What can I say? I want to do everything I can to keep you happy and make you proud. Daily orgasms should keep you happy.” I drop my eyes for a moment. “I work hard here to keep you proud.”

  “I am so incredibly proud of you.”

  Her lips meet mine in a soft sweet kiss. Olivia’s hands move from my shoulders, down my back. I pull away as I feel them drop below my waistband, to the curve of my ass. I don’t have much self-control at the moment.

  “You’d better stop,” I whisper, “Unless you want me to take you right here.”

  “Always with these warnings. Why do you tell me what you’re going to do first?” She pulls back and challenges me with a playful gleam in her eyes.

  “Oh yeah? You want me to just take what’s mine? No warning? No mercy?”

  “Yes. Unless you need me to show you how.”

  I don’t need any further encouragement. I yank her against me and pull her shirt up over her head.

  “You ever fuck in a ball pit?” I ask, kissing her neck.

  “Eww, those things are gross.”

  “Me either. But ours is exceptionally clean, and you know the balls were just sterilized.” I say, backing her up to the play area.

  Her footing gives way, and as she falls onto the springy area of the floor, she pulls me down on top of her. With a smile, her legs wrap around my waist and I press my bulging cock against her.

  We never made it to the ball pit. This is how Chloe was conceived.

  Chloe coos, bringing me back to the moment, as if she knows how much I love her and her mother. As I finish changing her diaper, Olivia’s phone rings.

  “My dad wants to know if you want him to bring clothes, or shaving stuff?”

  Her parents are staying with us for a few days to help out. Ava already threatened she’ll be spending every weekend with us until Chloe’s an obnoxious teenager. I think it’s just an excuse to try and see Jessie.

  Although I always want Olivia to myself, I don’t mind the extra people hanging around us, I’m grateful for them. They’re family. Olivia’s and mine. And now Chloe’s.

  I hand our beautiful baby girl to Olivia, taking care to make sure her head is supported. Any onlooker would never believe only a few months ago the thought of our precious angel terrified Olivia. At the end of the first trimester she had daily nightmares that she’d break the baby.

  Now, my wife looks like an old pro. I sit on the side of the bed shifting pillows and helping Olivia adjust into a comfortable position to nurse.

  “She’s got your heart shaped mouth.” I smile at Olivia.

  “And your dimples.”

  “Boy, are we in trouble.” Very gently, I run my hand over our baby girl’s head.

  As I look at my wife and daughter, I’m fulfilled. I love the life I made for myself. This is the life I always wanted. A wife that’s my equal in every way, and children that are a product of our pure, everlasting, love.

  Any fear I have of not being enough has been replaced with a fierce need to protect them. There’s nothing I won’t do for them. Nothing I won’t sacrifice to keep them safe.

  Just as I promised, I work hard every day to make sure Olivia is happy. The same way she does for me. A lesson I learned from the mistakes my father made: I have the perfect life, and there’s nothing in the world worth sacrificing it for.

  Thank you for reading Loving Lucas. If you enjoyed it, please leave a review on the site where you purchased it, and recommend it to a friend!

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  Continue reading for an excerpt of Stark Me

  Every good girl needs a bad boy to set her free!

  To anyone on the outside, I had a picturesque life, like a scene on the inside of a snow globe.

  I didn’t realize how I longed to be set free, until a set of blue eyes looking in, shook things up and shattered the glass around me.

  It’s been five long years since I’ve seen Dylan Stark. The man who owns my heart. Five years since we last spoke. Touched. Kissed. Because, Dylan confessed to a murder he didn’t commit.

  Everything changed since he’s been gone. There are things I need to explain. Secrets I’ve been keeping.

  Now Dylan is back, and he’s dangerous as ever, because he still owns my heart. He shakes up my world and makes me want to confront the truth.

  I don�
�t know if he can forgive me, so I’m not sure if this is our story’s end, or if we are at the start of a new beginning…

  Stark Me is a second chance romance between a bad boy gone good, and a good girl gone bad.

  Chapter 1

  “What the fuck happened?”

  Sirens blare. My head hurts. No, it doesn’t hurt, it feels like it’s bursting at the seams. It’s about to blow into a million tiny pieces any second now.

  I blink my eyes a few times to clear my blurred vision. Two sets of worried blue eyes stare back at me.

  “Thank the fucking Lord,” Shea Sullivan says, gathering me into his arms. I want to push him away, because this only makes the sharp pain in my head worse, but I can’t.

  It’s the other pair of eyes I can’t pull my stare from. The blue eyes with a storm, more savage than the tornado that tore Dorothy from Kansas, brewing in them. The deep blue eyes that narrow on me with anger and suspicion. The blue eyes that I long to see a hint of compassion in, even if it’s only for a moment. The eyes of bad boy Dylan Stark.

  “What the fuck happened?” Dylan repeats, anger heavy in his voice.

  His words hit me like a slap in the face. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I look around, and that’s when I see it. Blood. All over me. Smeared on my shirt. Covering my hands. A scarlet-streaked knife beside me.

  Panic settles into my brain, clawing its way into my soul.

  “Jimmy,” I whisper. “Where is Jimmy?”

  No answers are given before the police storm the front door, guns drawn, arms extended ready to shoot.

  “Hands where I can see them,” a voice booms.

  We do as we’re told, and I notice that I’m the only one with blood on me.

  My eyes are glued to Dylan, because whatever went down here, it’s going to affect him most of all.

  “Where is Jimmy?” I demand.

  Dylan doesn’t answer. He just stares at me, jaw clenched, a cold, hard look in his eyes, as he’s read his rights and a pair of handcuffs is slapped tight on his wrists. He’s angry, unresponsive, as they shove him out the door.

  “Are you hurt?” An unfamiliar voice directs the question at me.

  “Yes.” I touch my chest instinctively, but all seems fine. No cuts. No stab wounds. “No.” I’m confused. I look back down at my hands. If I’m not hurt, where did all this blood come from? “I mean, I don’t really know. My head is a wreck.” A new set of eyes evaluates me with scrutiny.

  Shea’s taken outside, but unlike Dylan, he goes of his own free will, without the aide of cuffs or anyone pushing him forward. The officer watching me presses a button on the communication device attached to his shirt collar and speaks. I don’t know what he’s saying; it’s all jumbled, and my mind is on Dylan.

  A team of two men come in. A penlight is flashed in my eyes, and sharp pain sears through my head.

  “Fuck!” I say, screwing my eyes up tight and holding my head between my hands. “That hurts.”

  After a brief examination of my body, one of the men asks if I can walk.

  “Sure,” I answer, getting to my feet.

  As soon as I’m halfway up, a wave of dizziness and nausea sweeps over me. I extend my hands to break my fall, because I’m going down and the floor is coming at me at warp speed.

  The men are talking. I don’t know if it’s to me or to each other. Sound has left me. Sight, too. Darkness creeps in from the corner of my eyes and spreads inward until I can’t see anything but the comfort of nothingness it offers.

  *

  My eyes flutter open. I’m lying in a bed, and the smell of antiseptic burns my nose. My head hurts. I want to turn onto my side, but I can’t. Something stops me.

  My wrists are strapped to the rails on either side of the bed. An IV is taped to my left hand. I follow the leads up to a bag with clear liquid inside it. Something is being pumped into me.

  The hospital. That’s where I am.

  “It’s about time you woke,” Shea says, getting to his feet from a chair on the side. “You had me worried, Leila.”

  I close my eyes. I don’t know why I’m here, but finding Shea instead of my parents doesn’t reassure me.

  “Do you want a sip of water?” he asks, as he pours some from the small mauve container into a plastic cup.

  “Yes, please.”

  Gently, carefully, Shea helps me lift my head with one hand, as he brings the cup to my lips with the other one. I take a small sip. When I’m done, he settles my head back down on the pillow.

  “What happened?”

  He smirks. “Seems there are a whole lot of people ready to ask you that very same question.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “They’re looking for an official statement. In fact, I shouldn’t even be in here,” he whispers, bringing his face close to mine and stroking my hand gently. “But I couldn’t stay away. I needed to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you’re okay. It’s one of the perks of being the son of the police chief.”

  “Shea, please. Tell me what happened?”

  “I can’t. Not before you give a statement. All I can tell you is that, even though you don’t feel the same and you broke up with me, I promise I won’t turn my back on you. No matter what. I’ve always got your back, Leila.”

  “I broke up with you? When…?”

  He strokes my cheek with his thumb, and I’m overwhelmed with guilt. I’d been thinking of it for two weeks, waiting for the right moment. But to hear that I actually did it, that I actually broke up with him and have no recollection of it, is killing me.

  “Right before you took off for Krazy Comics. It’s a good thing I raced there after you.”

  “Shea, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please, tell me what happened.”

  “I told you, Leila, I can’t. But I’ll help any way I can. Just say the word, and I’ll hire the best attorney possible for you.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “Listen, I have to go. There’s an officer outside your door. I promised I’d let them know the second you woke.”

  “Shea, wait.” Desperation colors my voice, and I don’t like it. “Please call my parents. I’m scared, and I need them.”

  He smiles, his blue eyes shining, and leaves the room.

  Two officers come in after Shea.

  I actually I wish he never left. My head is wrecked. Everything makes the pain worse. Moving. Speaking. Opening my eyes which feel like they’re about to shoot out of their sockets. I’m scared and vulnerable. And confused.

  So fucking confused.

  Shea offers the comfort of familiarity. He’s like a security blanket I can hold on to, and right now I need something to grasp on to tight.

  The questions start in rapid-fire.

  Name. I answer.

  Date. The cops exchange a glance at that response.

  Now the fun part. “What happened at the Krazy Comic Book store?”

  My stomach drops at the mention of Krazy Comics. It’s where Dylan Stark works, when he can be bothered going to work. But it’s owned by Jimmy Jones, Dylan’s legal guardian since he was fifteen.

  “Dylan? Is he okay? Did something happen?”

  No answer. The men exchange another look. The officer closest to me smirks, a gleeful darkness in his eyes.

  “Don’t you worry about Stark. He’s going to get exactly what he deserves.”

  Those words prick at my skin and increase the pain in my head. A cop saying that about Dylan can only mean trouble.

  “Is he here? Can I see him?”

  “No need to worry your pretty head. The trash has been taken out,” the second officer answers. “And don’t try to help him. You’re in a heap of trouble and need to be concerned about yourself right now.”

  Panic settles in my chest, and my mind melts, trying to remember, to know what they’re talking about. It’s useless trying to sort out their cryptic communication. I need someone to give it to me straight.

  “I don’t have th
e slightest idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  “Is that your official statement?” the first officer asks.

  “Yes.”

  “You have the right to remain silent.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  Tears stream down my cheeks as I’m read my rights. I want my parents. Where the fuck are they? Why aren’t they here? They’re never here when I need them. Aren’t I entitled to a phone call?

  “I’m under arrest? What for?”

  “For robbing the Crazy Comic Book store and the murder of Jimmy Jones.”

  Jimmy. Murder. Can someone shoot me? The pain searing through my heart is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Jimmy is dead. Heavy sobs overpower the stream of tears spilling from my eyes. My body shakes from fear and shock as I sob loud and ugly.

  Oh my God. Dylan. Where is he?

  “Don’t get any ideas about trying to escape,” the first officer says, motioning toward the cuffs holding me to the bed. “These aren’t coming off. And even if they do, we’ll be right outside your door.”

  I tug on my restraints. I can’t get fucking loose. I need a nurse. No. I need a fucking shrink, because I’m hearing things. Jimmy can’t be dead, and I can’t be under arrest for his murder.

  “Hey.” Shea saunters back in. He approaches the bed and runs his fingers up my arm. “You need to settle down.”

  “I can’t. I’m… I’m under arrest. For fucking murder. Shea, you know I wouldn’t… I couldn’t kill anyone.”

  “I know.” He leans in close, bringing his face to mine, eyes intense. “I’m here to help you. But you need to calm down or else I’m going to get kicked out. Leila, I need you to tell me what you remember.”

  I shake my head. Big mistake. I fight down the nausea that move just kicked up. I tell Shea what I remember, starting with waking to find him and Dylan staring back at me. Before that, there’s nothing. Nothing that would place me at the Krazy Comic Book store. No memory of breaking up with Shea. No memories of the night at all.

  Shea shakes his head. “I can’t help you if you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

  “I am!” This is getting me nowhere. “Where are my parents? Please get them for me. I need them.”