by Bella Scott
She didn’t know how she could even begin to ask this of him. It was bad enough that she’d barged back into his life in the middle of the night and asked him to let her stay, as temporary as it was. But to raise a child with her… that was too much to ask.
Rose trudged to the bed, slipping out of her dark jeans and leaving them in a pile on the floor. She lay down and pulled the satin sheets up as tightly as she could, staring at the painted waves crashing onto the shore.
***
She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she woke up staring at the white ceiling. No light entered through the blinds covering the window to her left, and she knew she couldn’t have slept for long.
Her body thrummed with restless energy, her legs itching to move. Reluctantly, she sat up and climbed out of bed. She doubted Luke was still up; it had been after midnight when she’d arrived, and he’d seemed as worn-out by their conversation as she had been. She was sure there was no harm in taking a walk.
Rose opened the door quietly and stuck her head out into the dark hall, and when she heard nothing but the ticking of a clock, she let some of the tension coiling her muscles relax. She stepped out onto the polished hallway floor and crossed her arms over her chest as the wood’s chill spread up through her body. She paced the hall, glancing in doorways to find the library just as she remembered—furnished with red leather armchairs, the shelves so filled with books there wasn’t a millimeter of space remaining—and the door to what had been Luke’s parents’ room half-open. A faint light spilled from within, and Rose’s stomach lurched, warning her to turn around.
He sat at the edge of the bed, which was covered with the silver silk Rose remembered from his old room. His eyes were closed, his head resting in his hands. He was shirtless, the firm muscles of his arms and chest exposed, and the sight sent a jolt of white-hot desire down to Rose’s lower abdomen. Luke was every bit as handsome as she remembered.
I shouldn’t be here.
Rose took a step backward. The floorboard creaked beneath her foot, and Luke looked up to meet her eyes as she swore under her breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I needed to take a walk.”
They stared at one another in silence. Rose’s heart was beating so quickly she thought she might be sick, and she was torn between the desire to run and avoid embarrassing herself further and the need to be closer to him. To touch him.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Luke asked at last.
“Yes.” Rose’s throat was dry, and her feet refused to move.
Slowly, Luke stood and started toward her. His expression was neutral, but when he reached her, she saw a fire in his eyes that had haunted her dreams for the last four years.
“I shouldn’t be here,” she said, aloud this time.
“Do you want to go?”
She considered this for an instant that felt like a hundred years. Part of her wanted to leave, if only because she already felt like she’d asked too much of him. But with every second she spent in his presence, she needed more.
“No,” she said, surprised by how firmly the word came out.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, one hand resting at the small of her back and the other reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear gently. She stared at him, watching as he followed the motion of her hair with his eyes and then returned his focus to her face. His gaze passed over her lips, and his grip on her back tightened as his other hand rested on her shoulder and drew her to him.
His lips crashed into hers, and all at once, her hesitation evaporated. She pressed as close as she could, molding her body to his as she kissed him hungrily, desperately. He lifted her from the floor, and she locked her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. As he carried her to the bed, the rational part of her mind screamed at her that she should stop this, stop herself from getting lost in him, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull even an inch away.
Oh, how she’d missed him.
He laid her down, and his fingers skimmed up her legs, raising goosebumps on their path to the hem of her shirt. She pressed her nails just slightly into his shoulders, encouraging him. Her skin burned beneath the touch of his fingers as they brushed her hips, and then the contact was gone, leaving her aching for it to return. He made quick work of her shirt, tossing it to the floor when he’d pulled it up over her head, and she mentally cursed herself for forgetting to remove her bra when she’d gone to bed. Still, the sight of Luke staring at her chest and the white lacy garment covering it sent another hot jolt of desire through her.
Rose gripped his hand and laid it on her breast, groaning when he squeezed. His lips returned to hers, and he kissed her so hard it stung, but she only wanted more. She tightened her legs around his waist and rocked against him. He groaned roughly, and she let out a breathy sigh at the feeling of his hardness pressed to her through her underwear.
She lost herself in the sensation of his lips as they moved down her neck, his breath and his touch setting her every nerve ending on fire. She barely registered it when he removed her bra—all she could think about was the heat of his body against hers and the way she ached for more.
Rose let out a low stream of moans, her hands twisting tightly into Luke’s hair as his mouth covered the bare skin of her breasts in kisses and bites too soft to hurt her but just hard enough to drive her crazy. She couldn’t believe that hours earlier, she’d shown up on his doorstep in the cold and the rain. Now, she was elated and safe and even felt loved again as her breath grew steadily more ragged with his teasing.
His hands ran along her waist, and when she trembled at his touch, he brought them slowly inward, rubbing lightly over her stomach and ribs. Luke began to kiss downward, trailing his lips over her stomach and making her shudder once more before leaning up to kiss her forcefully. She laid her hands on his cheeks to keep him as close as she could, and her breath hitched as he slipped a hand between her legs, stroking her slowly through the lace of her underwear. Her body twitched, aching for his touch and for it to reach deeper, and she nibbled his lip. He tasted like coffee and mint.
He shifted her underwear slightly to the side to brush his fingers over her flesh, and she groaned, giving his hair a tug, which elicited a growl from him in reply. She tingled and ached with need at the touch of his fingers, and as he gave her clit a firm rub, she pulled her mouth back to gasp for air.
“Oh—Luke,” Rose panted.
He chuckled darkly, continuing to rub her in a tight circle.
Rose moaned, reaching up to grab his face and pull his lips back to hers and kiss him hard. As his fingers worked, his other hand drifted up to her breast, and she made no attempt to stifle the lusty little noises erupting from her throat at his movements. She rocked against his hand as she twisted her own into his hair once again to grip it hard.
He swallowed her moans, which increased in volume and frequency as the delicious heat within her lower half continued to build with her exhilaration and pleasure as he brought her closer to the edge. At last, Rose’s control shattered with a sharp groan that would have been much louder had most of it not been lost against Luke’s lips. Pleasure flooded through her. She gave his hair an involuntary tug as she held still to revel in the moment and regain her bearings, her chest heaving.
Luke removed his fingers slowly, his lips caressing hers for several moments longer before he pulled back, she assumed, to let her breathe. She looked up at him with a hazy smile, and he grinned, resting his forehead against hers.
“How’re you feeling?” he muttered.
She pulled him closer and kissed him again in reply.
Supporting himself with his forearms on either side of her, Luke lowered his body nearer to hers, letting his chest meet her breasts. She shivered as she felt the warmth of his skin against hers and the firmness of his muscles, and she smiled into his lips, her hand brushing lightly down over his stomach and along the waistband of his pants.
He groan
ed softly into her mouth, his hand moving up to caress and knead her breast. She let out a little pleased noise at his hand’s work and slipped her own beneath his waistband to press against his length.
He groaned once again, bucking a bit into her hand. “Careful, now...”
“Why?” she breathed, her fingers stroking his hardness with practiced skill.
“You’ll get me excited…”
“I already have.” She rubbed him slowly, and he pressed his hips forward, grinding into her hand.
“Mmh... I need you,” he growled, squeezing her breast with one hand as the other unfastened his pants.
“I know. Take me, Luke.” Rose’s voice was little more than a lusty whisper, and she didn’t attempt to hide her desire as she watched him.
“Rose,” Luke growled, working off his underwear and discarding them before nipping at her neck as he worked the lacy material down her legs and tossed the last bit of her clothing aside.
“I need you,” she insisted.
He gripped her hip and pushed into her with a groan. Rose moaned in satisfaction, and he began to rock into her slowly, his breath ragged against the skin of her throat. She ran her hands up his back, her eyes closed as she let out a stream of soft moans and held still to enjoy his movements and the kisses he pressed to her neck.
“Mmh—move,” he growled.
She shifted her hands to cling tightly to his shoulders and began to rock up to meet him, and Luke let out a rough moan, moving faster in in response.
Rose groaned, her hips grinding hard into his as she fought to keep his pace. Luke held tight to her hip, rocking steadily, the nips he left along her neck and his thrusting enough to drive her crazy. She lost track of how long they moved together, her body humming with pleasure at the feeling of the man she had never stopped loving within her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and he drew in a sharp breath. She muttered an apology, but he shook his head, kissing the hollow of her throat.
At last, the heat within her burst, and she cried out, her body embracing him tightly as waves of pleasure rolled through her. She felt him catch his breath and felt how hard he struggled to continue moving to prolong her ecstasy, and after a few more thrusts, he groaned roughly as he came. He rested his head against her shoulder, each of them breathing heavily.
After a moment, she lifted a hand to trail her fingers through his hair, trembling through she was. “I missed you,” she breathed.
“I missed you, too.” He kissed her softly and slid out of her before dropping down beside her and pulling her into his arms. She scooted close and rested her head on his chest.
Everything is going to be fine, she told herself as she felt sleep pulling her in.
Chapter Three
When Luke’s tired mind processed the warmth of another body against his, his eyes snapped open. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Rose lying beside him, her face peaceful. So it hadn’t been a dream, then. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one, but even though he hated to admit it to himself, he wasn’t ready for this to end. This had always been his favorite way to wake up—beside her, nothing separating their skin except when the sheets got caught between them. He’d been convinced he’d never experience this again. Not with her. That was the real trouble, after all: she was the only one he really wanted this with, and he’d been convinced once that this was how every morning would begin for the rest of their lives.
And then he’d lost her.
***
Four Years Earlier
He heard her scream from the bar.
He let the glass slip from his fingers and shatter on the floor, not giving it another thought. He started at a dead run for the table he had vacated only long enough to stop by the restroom and buy another drink. Surely, he’d thought before leaving, nothing could possibly go wrong in the time he would be gone. His fiancée and his two high school teammates could be alone together for no more than five minutes.
The scene he found himself hurtling toward as he reached the dark back corner told him otherwise. Lorenzo had Rose pinned to the wall, his body trapping her against it. He kept a tight hold on one of her arms while Calvin held her other wrist.
Luke didn’t hesitate for an instant. He hurtled toward them and lunged for Lorenzo, grabbing his neck just below his dark hair and pulling him back roughly to send him to the floor. Still, Lorenzo was on his feet again before Luke could reach Calvin. He drove his fist hard into Luke’s stomach, and Luke let out a sharp breath and fought hard to keep himself from doubling over. He ignored the pain long enough to swing his elbow at Lorenzo’s face. The sound of the impact with the other man’s jaw was sickening, and Lorenzo stumbled backward.
Luke ignored Calvin for the moment and started toward Rose. He reached for her shoulder gently. She was shaking and using the wall for support, and the convulsing of her shoulders told him she was weeping, her face buried in her hands.
“Are you alr—?”
In the corner of his vision, Luke saw the chair coming toward them. He shifted to take the entirety of the blow with his back and keep it from hitting Rose, and he had only a fraction of a second to realize that Calvin had been the one to use the chair as a weapon before his body registered exactly how much pain it was in. He stumbled into the wall, throwing up his arms to catch himself and gritting his teeth against the agony. His shoulder blade throbbed, and he didn’t want to pause to consider whether it was broken or whether the ribs that ached with every breath were, either.
He whipped around, pain shooting white-hot through his body with the sudden movement, and drove his fist as hard as he could into Calvin’s nose. When the other man fell to the floor, Luke followed, punching him in the stomach, the chest, the face, wherever he could reach. He had never been more furious in his life, and these men he’d once called “friends” were not about to lay another hand on his fiancée. When at last he pulled back, Luke hovered over Calvin, processing for the first time that his knuckles were bloody. Calvin was curled into a ball on the floor, his nose spurting blood through his fingers, and Lorenzo still hadn’t moved from where he’d fallen after the blow to his jaw.
Luke turned slowly to face Rose, and he found that she had gone.
“Wait, where…?”
The sound of the front door closing reached his ears, and he looked up see the rest of the patrons staring at him, mouths hanging open and phones out. With a sickening roll of his stomach, Luke realized they were probably recording him. He could see the headlines now— “Senator’s Son Beats Man Senseless in Bar Brawl.”
He pushed himself to his feet and moved for the door without bothering to collect his jacket. He flung himself out into the downpour, scanning the street for Rose. When he saw her retreating form, her strawberry-blond hair drenched and sticking to her red coat, he ran as quickly as he could to catch up with her.
“Rose! Wait a minute, listen to me! Come back!”
His feet displaced another large burst of water with every step he took toward her. As he watched, a semi-truck flew past, sending a wave crashing onto her from a puddle in the road. She drew her scarlet coat tighter around her as she walked swiftly away from him, and he silently cursed himself for everything he had done to let this happen.
Five minutes. He’d been gone no more than five minutes, and now his world was tumbling down around him. He hadn’t imagined in his darkest nightmares that leaving his fiancée alone with two men he’d thought he could trust would end this badly. Calvin and Lorenzo knew how much he loved Rose. Had they really expected him not to fight as hard as he physically could to protect her? How drunk had they been to try anything in the first place?
“Please, listen to me.”
Reaching her at last, Luke caught her arm. She spun to face him, her blue eyes furious.
“What you saw back there, that was… It wasn’t me.”
“Yes, it was.” Her voice left her lips cold, and the tone was foreign on her tongue. “I never thought you could do som
ething like—” She broke off with a tight shake of her head. “They were your friends. People you were friends with did this to me.”
Luke stared at her, taking in the bruises that had started to form along her wrist, and he knew he would find more, if he could see beneath her sleeves. Every raindrop felt like a hammer falling on his aching back, and he wanted nothing more than to get her somewhere out of the cold, away from the storm.
“You don’t think I could ever hurt you, do you?”
She had to know that would never happen—that he would rather die than see her in pain.
“I can’t do this.”
The words had slipped from her mouth so quietly that Luke wasn’t sure she had really spoken them. Several seconds passed before he was able to control his voice enough to answer, frowning as he spoke in the most measured tone he could manage.
“What do you mean?”
Rose reached for her left hand, and the movement upset her injured right arm and led her to wince. He flinched at the sight of her pain. She ripped off the ring that had been on her fourth finger and seized his hand, dropping it into his palm.
***
Now
Luke closed his eyes against the memories, focusing for the moment on how soft and perfect and right she felt in his arms now. Of course the media had gotten ahold of the footage, and several news outlets had edited out the part about the men trying to assault Rose. Luke had looked like a delinquent, like a spoiled politician’s son who thought he could get away with beating people up in bars and leaving them bleeding on the floor. His reputation had taken a severe hit, and it had taken quite a bit of persuasion by his parents to keep him from getting thrown out of Southern Illinois University during the media firestorm, but that had been nothing compared to the pain of losing Rose. Her college apartment had still been in the same building as his, and he’d seen her in the hallway now and then during their last semester. She’d never met his eyes or responded when he’d called out to her or left her countless apologies in the forms of voicemails and texts. He’d written her a note, once, too—slipped it under her door and hoped for the best. But she’d never replied.
