Thorn in My Side (Bunch-A-Blooms Book 1)

by Shyla Colt

  “I think it’s safe to vacate. My place or yours?” he asks a few hours later as the evening winds down after we saw the couple to their limo with rose petals.

  “I think it’s past time we christen Casa Davenport, don’t you?” I ask toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

  “Say no more,” he starts to pull me toward the exit.

  “Wait, aren’t we going to tell the others goodbye?”

  “Nope. We’re making a clean break. I’ve hardly seen you this week. This weekend is for us.”

  “How can I argue with that?”

  He squeezes my hand. “You’re not supposed to, love. That’s the point.”

  “You think you’re so clever.”

  “I do.” He wraps his arm around my waist, pulls me to his side and skims his lips over mine as we leave the entrance of the wedding tent into the evening.

  I grip the counter as Luk kneels in front of me and pushes the dress up around my thighs. He hooks his thumbs in my underwear and pulls them down my legs.

  “I’m going to enjoy this. You’ve been teasing me all night with that slit in your dress showing off those sexy as sin stems of yours.” He spreads my legs and buries his face between my thighs. His warm breath against my swollen clit makes me jump. He circles me with the tip of his tongue.

  “Oh, Luk.”

  He slides my legs over his shoulders and lashes me with his tongue as he shakes his head from left to right. My heart is pounding in my chest and pleasure is swirling through me. The pressure builds. He eats my pussy with the kind of gusto that shows you how much he enjoys it. Most men do it begrudgingly. He moans, and it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine.

  “It should be illegal for a person to taste so divine.”

  He licks a path up my slit and I’m all but melting onto the counter. He plunges his stiff tongue into me. I hook my ankles together and push his head down as I ride his face until I explode. Limbs shaking and heart pounding, I can only stare at Luka in awe as he stands and licks his glossy lip. He unbuttons his pants, pushes them down and pulls me toward him. He palms his base and I strokes. I whimper as my mouth waters.

  “Open for me, O.”

  I spread my still trembling limbs, and he pushes inside, filling, and stretching me deliciously.

  “Give me your leg, love.” He puts my left leg over his shoulder and my right around his waist as he grips my hips. Balancing on the edge, I let him set the pace as he drives deep.

  “You feel so good, wrapped around me.”

  He’s filling more than my body as he works me over. My heart is brimming with emotions so powerful I can’t deny him. I gasp as they crash down on me.

  “You’re mine now, Olive. This is my pussy.”

  His. His words and the quick strokes, send me tumbling over the edge into bliss and love.

  Waking is like moving through thick molasses.

  “That blasted phone of yours has been ringing off the hook for the past ten minutes. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’m worried it might be important,” Luk says.

  I moan as I open my eyes and the sunlight hits me hard. “I have a sex hangover.”

  “Best kind to have,” he purrs as I roll over to face him.

  “Insatiable beast.” I roll over to face him, and study his face. I smile. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, love.”

  I yawn, stretch my arms over my head and roll over to grab my cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  Luk pulls me back against him.

  “O, I need to tell you something.”

  The somber tone of Petunia’s voice makes my blood run cold.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you get to a computer?”

  “Yes.” I sit up, and Luk follows suit.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “I need a computer,” I say. “What am I looking for, Petunia?”

  “Look at the local paper in art and entertainment.” I relay the information to Luk who slips from the bed and grabs his laptop.

  “What’s going on, Petunia?”

  “Just…look.”

  The computer boots up, and I hold my breath as I wait for him to get to the website. The picture of Rachel and Joseph isn’t unusual, but the photo of Luk and kissing is.

  Luka Davenport and local business owner, Olive Bateman, more than friends?

  My jaw drops. The article is decent publicity, but the speculation on why I was hired and the hint that I was noticed on my back made me see red.

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry, O. I didn’t want you blind-sided. It’s why I called you.”

  “Thank you for that. I can’t believe this.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I will be,” I say.

  “We won’t let her get away with this. We can have her print a retraction,” Luka says. His eyes are darker than I’ve ever seen them and as cool as ice.

  “I’ll call you back later, Petunia.”

  “Of course, I’m here whatever you need.”

  “Thank you for that. Love you.”

  ‘Love you too, O.”

  I hang up and shake my head. “Is this what you deal with on a regular basis?”

  “Sadly, yes. They’re fishing for information. If we change our habits or try to avoid being seen together, they’ll think they we’re trying to get away with sneaking around, and it’ll be twice as hard.”

  “Everyone knows, or is speculating on our relationship.”

  “Good, saves us the trouble of spreading the word.”

  “Luka, this is serious. People think I got the wedding job because we were sleeping together.”

  “So we set the record straight with an interview of our own, talking about how we first met.”

  “And it’s that easy?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks.

  I shake my head stunned. He hasn’t even admitted he loved me, but he wants to turn out lives upside down and open ourselves up for more speculation. A million thoughts play in my head. I shake my head.

  “Olive?”

  “I need to think.”

  “What’s there to think about?”

  “My career? My integrity?”

  “They’re going to spread rumors, love, it’s a show they use to sell copies of their papers.”

  “You may be used to this, Luk. But I’m not, and I don’t much like it.” I toss the sheet away and climb from bed.

  He follows me. “One article and you’re ready to throw in the towel?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “So what are you saying?” he asks. His jaw ticks.

  “That I need time. I don’t know what this will do to my business or my reputation.”

  “Olive, it’s all going to blow over.”

  ‘You don’t know that,” I say exasperated.

  “Trust me. There aren’t enough juicy details to keep them on our trail. It’ll be over before it truly begins.”

  His nonchalance fuels my anger. Doesn’t he understand how terrifying this is? As an upstart, all I have is my reputation. They’re calling that into question.

  “I never expected this, Luk.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re dating a Billionaire. You had to expect at some point you’d end up under a microscope.”

  “No, because all I saw was you. I didn’t think or care about anything else,” I whisper. I was so stupid. My hands shake as I struggle to put on my underwear. I get them up, and he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, stopping my mad scramble to get clothed.

  “I’m sorry this caught you off guard. I know you’re upset, but I promise you it’s all going to be okay.”

  “They think I got the job because I slept with you.”

  “No, your work spoke for itself. I treated you no differently than I would any other person I hired when it came to our business dealings. You did nothing wrong, and anyone who tries to insinuate differently will be dealt with.
”

  “Is this going to continue to happen?”

  “I won’t lie to you and say no. This is part of what comes with me.”

  I close my eyes. I’ve never been a coward, but this feels like a lot. He kisses my temple.

  “I know you want space, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting you leave the house so upset. Come on, let’s go downstairs I’ll get you coffee and breakfast, and we’ll figure out how we want to handle this, yeah?”

  I nod my head. The honeymoon period is officially over.

  Luk

  I study the velvet box in my hand. It’s our six month anniversary. It should be a cause for celebration. Instead, I’m worried. Olive’s been distant since the first article came out. I can’t blame her in a way. Thrust into my world, she’s been photographed, asked for interviews, and talked about in a less than flattering way on social media. I clutch the velvet box as my temper flares. I wanted to eviscerate each and every person who dare hurt her. But that’s not the way of the world. Things have begun to die down, and I’m hoping we can get back on track.

  I place the case back in the gift bag in the lilac bag adorned with a curly white and purple bow and exit the car. I thank the Lord for small favors when I make it to her apartment without running into a photographer. I knock. She answers the door a moment later in a form-fitting black dress with a deep-V that stops at mid-thigh, and I struggle not to swallow my tongue.

  “You look ravishing,” I whisper as I step inside and kiss her cheek.

  “Thank you.” She smiles, but the strain remains. I set the bag on the table, sink onto the couch and pat my thigh. “Come and sit. We’re not going anywhere until we talk.”

  She nibbles her lip as she nods and comes to perch on my leg.

  “What’s going on? You haven’t been yourself lately. I can’t help you if you don’t talk.”

  “The scrutiny I’m under has been a lot to deal with.”

  “And I’m here to help you with that. You’re not alone, love.”

  “I know, but there were things I needed to figure out for myself.”

  “Care to share?” I ask.

  “I had to ask myself if it was worth it. If we were worth it.”

  “And?” I whisper almost afraid to breathe.

  “I love you, Luk. I’m not sure when it happened really. One minute you’re a prickly thorn in my side, and the next you’re my best friend and lover. A completely necessary part of my life. You make me laugh when no one else can, and despite your insane schedule, you force me to take the time to relax. I’ve been holding on to this for weeks. I know we never talked about where this was going. It caught me unaware. I toyed with keeping it to myself, but I can’t any longer because I need to know if I’m in this alone.”

  I frame her face with my hands and rest my forehead against hers. “I love you too, Olive Bateman. With an intensity that scares the bejesus out of me. After the accident, I shut myself down. Caring for someone felt too much like playing Russian roulette because you never knew what could happen to them. I lived for my family and our business. Then they grew up and started leaving the house, making lives for themselves. I was feeling that empty nest syndrome in the worst possible way, and then I met you, and everything began to change. So, when you ask me where I want this to go. I’d say until forever and beyond. Because I can’t let the woman who returned color to my world go. There are going to be times when who I am will make things difficult. But we’ll get through it all together.” I capture her lips and devour her until my lungs protest.

  “Together, I like the sound of that,” she says breathily.

  “Get the bag. I brought you a present.”

  She grins.

  “Great minds must think alike. I’ll be right back.”

  She stands and strides toward her workspace. She returns with a small burlap bag tied with a black ribbon and a huge grin. The sight is fetching. It’s day and night from the overly quiet version of herself I’ve seen lately. She’s back to her old self. This is the best present of all.

  “You first, love,” I say thinking of the ring I’d seen in England, and couldn’t leave behind. She sits beside me, and I hold my breath as she pulls out the black velvet case. She opens the lid and gasps. I hold, my breath. The silver band has a base molded to look like a flower, and the raw Herkimer diamonds inside are clustered to look like a flower. It’s not the most expensive, but it screamed Olive to me.

  “This is beautiful, Luk.”

  “Not half as beautiful as you are.”

  She leans in and gives me a peck. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, love. May I?” I take the ring and slide it onto her middle finger. “Perfect.”

  “Your turn,” she said giddily.

  “Alright.” I untie the pouch and pull out a shiny, smooth, black necklace with weight. The beads are broken up by silver pieces.

  “Those are black onyx.”

  “Did you make this?”

  She nods. “Do you like it?”

  “I do.” I run my thumb over the beads, admiring them and the craftsmanship of my woman. “You’re so talented.”

  “Thank you.” Her career has truly launched over the past couple of months as orders come in and the word about her continues to spread. One of the few perks that came along with the flood of journalists and photographers.

  I put the necklace on and take her hand and kiss the back of it. “Happy six month anniversary, Olive.”

  “Happy six month anniversary, Luk.”

  I stand and offer her my hand. “We should go, so we don’t lose our reservations.” As she rises I know this is the first of many milestones, we’ll celebrate together.

  Luka

  She’s a vision lying across the couch with nothing but the sunlight on her flesh. I let the canvas translate what my tongue is too clumsy to put into words. It took some convincing, before she finally agreed to let me do her portrait. I know it was more to get me back into art than anything. My woman is sweet like that. The arm over her head, pushes out her full breasts and gives me an unobstructed view of the body I’ve grown addicted to. Our gazes meet and I smile.

  “I like seeing this side of you. You light up when you paint.”

  “Maybe it’s just my subject.”

  She smiles. “Sweet talker.”

  “Realist.” I blend the brown, beige and pink on my palate until I’m satisfied, and grab a smaller brush. It’s our last session. My palms are sweaty and my nerves are all over the place. It took months to get her to move into the mansion. The lure of the gated community, bigger work space, and library were the clinchers. It was enough for a time, but once we sailed past a year together, I craved more. My hand shakes as I make the final addition to her ring finger.

  “Are you done yet?”

  “Almost, love.”

  She sighs.

  “I want to get it just right,” I say as I paint my mother’s engagement ring from memory. The rose gold oval set with a scalloped ring were heirlooms passed down from generation to generation. I highlight the white to make the diamonds sparkle and set down my brush.

  “Now?”

  I swallow. “Yes, love.” I walk over to the couch and offer my hand. She takes it and I help her stand.

  “Don’t be nervous. I know I’ll love it.”

  “I hope so,” I whisper.

  I hang back as she walks around to the front of the canvas and gasps.

  “Is...is this how you see me?”

  “This is how you are.”

  She shakes her head and her eyes tear up. “Wow.”

  I hold my breath as she inspects the painting.

  “Wait…what’s that on my hand, Luk?”

  I kneel and take her hand in mind. “You’re the love of my life, Olive. I cannot imagine living another second without knowing you’re mine completely and I am yours. Grow old with me, love. Have my babies, and share infinite adventures. Let me take you on that European vacation for our honeymoon.”


  “Luka, Yes.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nods her head and holds out her hand.

  I pull out the velvet case and open it.

  “This was my mother’s. It’s a tradition that the eldest son receives them for their wife.” I slip the ring on her finger and kiss it. A final piece of a puzzle clicks into place, and I experience peace unlike any I’ve ever known. I stand and pull her body to mine. “I love you, Olive Bateman.”

  “And I love you, Luka Davenport.”

  Her lips meet mine and the world narrows to the taste and feel of her as we consummate our engagement with our bodies.