Red Hot Rival

by Cat Carmine

  “Yes, Bree,” he groans. “Come all over me. Let me taste all of you.”

  The climax doesn’t seem to let go. It shakes me over and over. I let go of the fabric of my dress and it tumbles down over Luke. It doesn’t deter him, though, and he keeps flicking his tongue against me until finally the last wave passes.

  He eventually pushes the fabric off and emerges from beneath my skirt.

  “God, you’re amazing,” he says. His eyes blaze.

  “You were the one doing all the work.” I try to smile but it feels like even my cheek muscles have gone slack.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call that work.” He grins again.

  I pull him to his feet and press my hands on either side of his face. God, he’s a beautiful man. I can’t imagine ever gazing into more gorgeous eyes, or running my fingers along a stronger jaw. I can’t imagine ever being with anyone who isn’t Luke.

  “Luke…” I bite my lip. I have to tell him.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he says. I nod wordlessly and lead him up into the main part of the house.

  “The bedroom?” he says, looking around. Still wordlessly, I lead him another set of stairs to the guest room I’ve been sleeping in. Other than a few times when he’d driven me back into the city on the weekends to pick up a few things, the only time Luke has ever been here is when he came to drop off the sewing box the other day.

  Thankfully this visit seems to be going a bit better.

  I push open the door to the bedroom. As soon as we’re inside, Luke’s on me again. His mouth finds mine as his hands go to my hair. My once-neat chignon is already a mess, and he pulls the pins out one by one until my locks tumble down around my shoulders.

  “That’s more like it,” he murmurs, sweeping his lips across my shoulder. “Now let’s get this dress off.”

  I turn so that he can find the zipper and he pulls it down. He goes so agonizingly slowly that I can feel and hear every tooth as it comes apart. His fingers brush across my skin as he finally pushes the fabric down. The dress falls to the floor.

  It’s not a dress you can wear a bra with, and since my panties are somewhere down in the entryway, when I turn to face him again I’m completely naked. For a minute he doesn’t touch me, just stands there watching me.

  “My God, Bree,” he says, shaking his head. “My God.”

  He lowers me onto the bed before shucking off the rest of his clothes. I watch as he climbs onto the bed, as he straddles me. His cock is more engorged than I’ve ever seen it — it bobs heavily as he moves over me, and I can already imagine how it will feel sliding inside of me.

  Luke hovers over me. He’s so tantalizingly close and my whole body seems to scream for his cock. I can’t wait any longer.

  “There are condoms in the —“ I start to offer.

  “I got tested,” he interjects. His voice sounds raspy. “When we were still … I got tested. And there hasn’t been anyone else.”

  I breathe out. “Me too. I had a complete physical as soon as I got back to the States. And I’m on the pill.”

  “So we don’t need …?”

  “No.”

  He grins. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

  Me too. The idea of being with Luke, without anything separating us, no barriers between us …

  “Fuck me, Luke.”

  He groans and pushes his cock against me. I’m so wet that he pushes through easily, even though there’s still an initial shock at his size. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to that. God, I hope not.

  He feels so good inside me that for a moment I just stare up at him.

  He pushes in all the way up to the hilt and then he stops too. He looks down at me, pushing my hair out of my face.

  “My God, Bree,” he says again. His expression is reverent. “My God.”

  I know the feeling.

  I press my fingers to his stubbled jaw as we gaze into each others eyes. Luke runs his thumb across my swollen lips before leaning in to kiss me. He pulls back and gazes at me again.

  “Bree,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

  My heart soars as a stupid grin spreads across my face. “I love you too, Luke. God, do I love you.”

  He grins and I sigh happily, wrapping my arms around his neck. I pull his body closer to mine and then rock my hips gently. He matches my rhythm and we start moving together.

  It’s slow and gentle. Tender. I run my fingers through his dark hair and he kisses my throat. We move that way until the pressure gets so great that I don’t want tender anymore.

  I squeeze my muscles around him, causing him to groan. He starts to move his hips harder, sliding deeper into me. Each in and out is the most exquisite kind of torture.

  “Harder, Luke,” I whisper.

  I grip his shoulders as he thrusts. His muscles ripple under my hands. A sheen of sweat covers both of us. Still I pull him to me. Still I want him, harder. Deeper.

  As if reading my mind, Luke picks up the pace. His hips hammer against me, his balls smacking my ass. He pounds his cock into my pussy, over and over, until I feel like I’m being ripped open. In the very best way possible.

  “Jesus, Luke,” I moan. My body is cresting towards the peak again and I hold onto Luke’s shoulders as he keeps slamming into me.

  “Yes, Bree,” he breathes. “Come all over my cock. Squeeze me so I can come inside you.”

  I look up into Luke’s eyes. They blaze with arousal and longing and love. I touch my fingers to his stubbled jaw and then I let go.

  My pussy clenches around him as the orgasm comes over me. My entire body trembles and quakes as Luke keeps thrusting. I ride it as long as I can, until my vision is streaked in black, until I think I’m about to pass out. Then finally Luke’s head drops and he groans. For the first time, I feel it the moment he comes. He fills me with his seed, wave after wave, as his thrusts slow and finally stop.

  He doesn’t pull out, but instead just collapses on top of me. I wrap my arms around him and find his lips with mine. We’re both still gasping for breath, but still we kiss, breathing in the same air, our lips and bodies tangled inextricably together. We lay there like that for so long that I feel him start to get hard inside me again.

  It takes hours before we’re both fully sated. Hours of being as one. Even then I’m not sure if we’re sated, exactly, or if we’re just too exhausted to do anything more. The sun is starting to come up by the time I finally fall into a deep and dreamless sleep, my naked worn-out body pressed against Luke’s.

  “Good morning,” Luke says, pressing his lips to my bare shoulder. My eyelids flutter open and I find him lying on his side, his head propped on one hand as he gazes down at me. “Or should I say good afternoon?”

  I smile, leaning in for a kiss. “What time is it?”

  “Almost three.”

  “In the afternoon?”

  He nods.

  “God, I haven’t slept this late since I was a teenager.”

  “What a coincidence,” he says with a grin. “Because I haven’t been this horny since I was a teenager.”

  I giggle. “There might be something we can do about that.” My pussy still feels swollen and battered from last night, but somehow I still ache for him.

  “Maybe in a bit,” he says. I look up and find his face has gone serious. My stomach twists. “I think we have a few things to talk about first, don’t you?”

  I swallow.

  36

  Bree

  Luke’s face looks so serious that I wonder if I’ve misread this whole situation. Maybe last night wasn’t the loving make-up sex I thought it was — maybe it was goodbye sex. I hold my breath, looking up at Luke and waiting for him to speak.

  “Why in the hell did you sell Bailey Living?” he finally asks. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  I breathe out in relief. “It was what Dad wanted.”

  “But he left the company to you.”

  I shake my head. “It was supposed to be a temporar
y measure. He’d already started making plans to sell it — in fact, he’d even arranged a meeting to discuss the option with your brother. He wanted you guys to take it over. I guess he got too sick though, because he had to cancel the meeting at the last minute so Trent never knew.”

  Luke shakes his head. “You know, I actually remember him saying he had a meeting with your Dad. I never imagined that’s what he wanted. How did you find out?”

  “He left me a letter. The most beautiful letter, actually.”

  “And you just got the letter now?”

  “Uh…” I pick at an invisible thread on the soft green quilt. “Actually, it was in a pile of papers from the lawyer’s office. I’ve had it this whole time, I just didn’t realize it.”

  “Bree.” Luke pretends to look stern. At least, I think he’s pretending. “You know, you really could have saved us a lot of trouble if you’d found the letter earlier.”

  “I know,” I laugh, burying my head in my hands. “But I can’t help but think everything worked out how it was meant to anyway.”

  He kisses my bare shoulder. “Yeah, I guess it did.”

  I bite my lip. “Do you … do you want to read the letter?”

  He looks at me seriously. “Do you want me to read it? It’s okay if it’s private between you and your dad.”

  I shake my head. “No, I want to share it with you.”

  “Then I’d like to read it.”

  I wrap the white bed sheet around me and pad down the hall to Dad’s office. I find the letter right where I left it, on the desk, and bring it back to the bedroom. I hand it to Luke.

  He takes it reverently and I climb back onto the bed and sit silently beside him as he reads.

  By the time he’s done, his eyes are glassy. He shakes his head, as if to clear it.

  “That’s really special, Bree.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “Your Dad seems like he was a pretty great guy. I wish I’d gotten to know him better.”

  “Me too.”

  “Though, of course, he was wrong about one thing,” he says, rolling over and pulling me in to his arms.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m way funnier than you.” He kisses my nose and grins.

  I giggle. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

  “Hey, I made you laugh just then, didn’t I?”

  I swat playfully at him. “Doesn’t count. In the grand scheme of things, I’m much funnier.”

  He shakes his head, smiling. “Bree, you are a lot of things. The most beautiful, definitely. Probably the smartest. Definitely the sweetest…”

  His face starts to change as he talks. The smile falls away, replaced by a serious expression.

  “The most talented,” he continues. “The most loyal. The bravest. The kindest.”

  “Luke, please,” I flush. I can’t keep the smile off my face though.

  He sits up. “I’m serious, Bree. I’ve never met a more perfect woman.”

  “Luke, don’t be silly. I’m far from perfect.”

  “That’s true,” he acknowledges seriously. “You’re definitely not as funny as you think you are.”

  “Hey!” I swat him again and he grins. He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the inside of my wrist.

  “But you’re just about as close to perfect as I can imagine.”

  I flush with pleasure, my toes curling under the sheets.

  Luke studies me for another minute. Then he takes my hand again and pulls me to my feet.

  “Come with me,” he says. His voice is hoarse.

  “Where are we going?” I grab the sheet and wrap it around me again. Luke pauses long enough to pull on his boxer briefs.

  “I don’t know,” Luke says. “Where did you put the sewing box I made for you?”

  The sewing box?

  “It’s in the dining room. Next to my sewing machine.”

  “Then that’s where we’re going.”

  He leads me out into the dining room and we stand beside the sewing box. The moment feels solemn somehow, with both of us standing there gazing down at it.

  Luke pulls one of the iron knobs, opening up one side of the compartments. He looks up at me quizzically.

  “It’s empty.”

  “I know. I … I had a hard time bringing myself to use it. It made me sad.” It’s true. It had taken a week for me to even move it out of the middle of the living room and set it beside the table with my sewing machine.

  Luke sighs and closes it again. He stands up and takes me into his arms.

  “I’m sorry for making you sad,” he says kissing me.

  “It’s okay,” I say, nuzzling against him. “This is helping.”

  “Good.” He lets his nose rest lightly against mine. “I have something else that I hope might also help.”

  “What’s that?”

  For a minute he doesn’t say anything. He just keeps gazing into my eyes. His brown eyes are so dark that they almost look black. He licks his lips.

  “Bree,” he starts. He runs his hands through his hair. Usually that means he’s nervous, but what in the world does he have to be nervous about?

  “Yes?” I prod, when he still doesn’t say anything.

  “The sewing box isn’t empty.”

  My brow furrows. “Yes, it is. I never put anything in it.”

  “You didn’t … but I did.”

  Okay, now I’m just confused. “What are you talking about Luke?”

  He lets go of my shoulders and then leans over the sewing box again. He presses on one of the inlaid diamonds on the top, and to my surprise, the piece of wood shifts and he lifts it off the top of the sewing box.

  “Luke, what is that?”

  “What can I say … I’m full of surprises.”

  I laugh — or at least I start to. Then I see something glinting from inside the compartment.

  “Luke…” My hand flies to my chest, covering my fluttering heart.

  Instead of standing up, Luke drops to one knee.

  “Oh my God.” I clutch the white sheet closer to my chest. My breath catches in my throat, my legs shake. “Oh my God,” I say again.

  “Bree,” Luke starts. He takes a deep breath. “You’re the most perfect woman I’ve ever met. But more than that, you’re the perfect woman for me. You challenge me. You inspire me. You center me. You ground me. You turn me on like crazy,” he adds with a grin.

  I grin back at him as I brush away a stray tear that’s fallen down my cheek.

  “You once told me that wherever your sewing machine was, is where your home was. That’s what you are for me. You feel like home, Bree, and when I’m with you, everything in the world seems right. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you do me the honor of marrying me and becoming my wife?”

  “Oh my God,” I say again. It seems to be all I can say. I force myself to swallow and take a deep breath. “Yes, Luke. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  My own voice surprises me. Despite how my legs quiver, my voice doesn’t sound shaky or nervous at all. It sounds strong. Sure.

  “You’re my home too, Luke,” I tell him. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He stands and envelops me in a deep and passionate kiss. Then he pulls back and slides the ring onto my finger.

  “God,” I breathe. “It’s perfect.” It really is — Luke has outdone himself. The ring is vintage, with a huge gleaming emerald stone instead of a diamond.

  “I almost got something more traditional,” he admits. “But I saw that emerald and it just seemed to suit you. I’ll always remember you the first night I met you, when you were wearing that green dress.”

  “It’s perfect,” I tell him. I hold my hand up to admire it. “You know, I actually have a pair of emerald earrings that look very similar to this. I actually almost wore them that night, but I dropped one of them in the toilet, and then it was this whole big thing, and I was already freaking out about being late to this thing…”

/>   Luke has the strangest look on his face so I laugh. “Anyway, you don’t need to hear about my toilet earrings right now.”

  “No, Bree, please, tell me more about these ‘toilet earrings’,” he teases.

  “Shut-up.” I go back to admiring the ring, when something occurs to me. I stare up at Luke in horror. “Do you mean to tell me I’ve had an engagement ring sitting in my house for a month now?!”

  He grins. “Yeah. You have. Remember when I said the truth of everything I felt was in this box? I wasn’t lying.”

  I punch him lately. “You’re crazy. What if I had gotten rid of the sewing box?”

  “Would you have done that?”

  “No,” I admit.

  “Then there you go.”

  I twist the ring around my finger. “But, wait, you dropped this off over a month ago. Well before I had decided to sell the company. What were you going to do about the IPO?”

  He shakes his head. “I was going to do whatever the fuck I had to do to keep you,” he says. “Your father may have loved you more than he loved his company, but he isn’t the only man in your life who felt that way. I would have walked away from Loft & Barn if I had to. If it meant getting to be with you.”

  “Oh, Luke.” I press my lips against his again, drawing his body in close to mine. Somehow knowing that makes me love him even more. “I’m glad you don’t have to do that now.”

  “Me too,” he admits with a chuckle. “And I’m glad you’re going to get to go back to Bounce.” His face freezes.

  “What?” I ask, suddenly alarmed.

  “You’re not going back to Paris now, right?”

  I laugh. “No. Definitely not going back to Paris. Well, maybe for the odd business trip, but hopefully you’ll be able to come with me sometimes. I can’t wait for you to meet Margaux.”

  He grins. “I’d like that too.”

  I pull him close and run my hands through his messy brown hair.

  “What would you say about going back to the bedroom so that I can fuck my brand new fiancee?” he asks, grazing his lips against mine.

  I bite back a grin as my skin flushes. “I think that’s one of the better ideas you’ve ever had.”

  “Just wait — you’re in for a lifetime of good ideas.”