by Elle Keating
“Clean?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’ve been tested. And I’ve never been with a woman without a condom. Not once. Do you believe me, Peyton?”
She did. For whatever reason, she knew he was telling her the truth. She saw it in his eyes, saw that there was no way that he would risk her safety. He had proven to her before, that night on the beach, that he would protect her, that he would shield her from harm. Why would tonight be any different?
“I do. Do you believe me?”
“Yes.” From the look on his face, he seemed to be surprised at his own swift response. She had gathered before that Luke had trust issues and that he valued his privacy, so it shocked her to hear him say with such absolute conviction that he believed her. Luke released her hands and removed his boxer briefs in one fluid motion. His cock stood at attention and she yearned to take that silky shaft into her palms and stroke him into her mouth. Luke trailed a finger across her lips and said, “I know what you’re thinking. And trust me, I want that. I want these hot lips of yours around my cock.” She parted her lips and licked his finger. He hissed at the sensation, which only made her want more. She sucked his finger into her mouth and watched him bite down on his lower lip. It was the single sexiest thing she had ever seen a man do and she moaned in appreciation. “But I want you beneath me more.”
His finger slipped past her lips and he had her on her back in moments. He removed her black panties with a determined tug and settled between her legs. His cock was positioned at her entrance. A quick thrust of his hips and he would be inside her and feeling how wet she was for him. But he didn’t move an inch. Propped up on his elbows, his hands encasing her face, he stared at her and asked, “Are you certain that you want this? That you want me?”
His question, that he was seeking permission, pleased and overwhelmed her. “Yes. I want you inside me. Now, Luke.”
He leaned in and planted a kiss, one so soft, almost chaste, against her lips. She craved more, his scent, his taste, his touch and then without further warning he pushed into her, stretching her, filling her with his cock. She locked her legs around him, forcing him closer until his bare chest was flushed against her breasts. “You feel so good.” He withdrew and plunged back into her. Her head would have smacked against the headboard if he hadn’t cushioned it with his hand. “You’re so wet,” he groaned against her neck.
“For you,” she whimpered. His thrusts intensified, and she felt her orgasm mount. Every time he slid into her heat, tiny sensations coursed through her body, bringing her that much closer. His cock rubbed up against her G spot, making her spine bow. She clawed at his back and begged him for more, for him to give it to her harder.
“I can’t hold out anymore. You feel that incredible. I need you to come for me, come with me, Peyton.”
His words, the honesty behind them, the raw desperation he allowed her to see, was her undoing and she let go. Her pussy clamped down, fisting his cock as he pumped into her. His warmth mingled with hers, triggering the first of many orgasms. Each wave consumed her, took her to another plane, to some faraway place she had never been to before. She was shaking from one orgasm when another took hold. He reached down and circled her clit with the pad of his thumb and drew out her pleasure. She screamed until she was hoarse, and her body felt like it was worn ragged. He collapsed onto her chest and she held his head against her breasts. They stayed in that position, out of breath, not talking while their bodies calmed the hell down and their heart rates stabilized.
She thought he was drifting off to sleep when he surprised her and lifted his head from her chest. He slipped out of her and lay on his side. He took her chin with two fingers and forced her to look at him. He looked sleepy, yet restless. Something was on his mind. Something was…no. He was regretting what they had just done. It was that night in the Winter Room all over again, when he had kissed her and several seconds later told her it had been a mistake. Before she could let panic officially take hold of her, he leaned in and gave her a kiss that dispelled each and every one of her fears.
Chapter Seventeen
Luke
“Truth for a truth?” Luke asked as he drew circles on her delicate skin. He loved how soft she felt beneath his fingertips.
His question earned him a sly smile from Peyton. “Okay. You go first.” She rolled onto her side, but he continued to caress her bare hip as he faced her.
“Is there a reason why you chose this particular tattoo?” Her body grew rigid for a split second, but she relaxed as his fingers drifted to the small bird inked on her lower left hip, just below her panty line. He traced the simple design and took in the bird’s features.
“A swallow tattoo can mean different things. British sailors were known to tattoo this particular bird on their bodies after surviving a difficult voyage. The swallow has also been a favorite of ex-cons, as it symbolizes that they had done their bird, done their time.”
Luke propped his head on his hand and listened to her speak. He loved the sound of her voice, how it lured him in.
“But since I’m not a sailor nor have I ever completed a stint in the big house, I picked the swallow for a different reason.”
“That’s a relief,” he said.
She chuckled, which made her eyes sparkle. She swatted his chest with the back of her hand and then continued. “The swallow also represents freedom…and hope.” That sparkle, that glimmer that he had seen just a second ago seemed to dissipate. She cleared her throat and looked away. “That’s why I chose it.”
His first instinct was to press her, to demand to know more. Because Peyton was hiding something. She had a story to tell, one that made her who she was, one that prompted her to see a therapist regularly. He had also seen her on the beach that night. Had witnessed her falling apart because of something or someone from her past. It was obvious that her tattoo was linked to her secrets. She wasn’t comfortable discussing them with him yet. But he didn’t think that her discomfort came from a lack of trust. The way she looked at him, the fact that she let him touch her and be with her without a condom, told him that she trusted him. No, he detected shame and sadness behind her eyes …and pain. As much as he wanted to know what made her look away, he decided to hand her the reins and give her back control of the conversation. “Okay. It’s your turn. One truth coming up.”
She shifted her attention back on him, where it belonged, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He wanted more of those. Soon. He would be getting a lot of those tonight. “Alright. Here goes,” she said, inching closer and bringing her alluring scent with her. He was having difficulty describing what she smelled like. Honeysuckles, maybe? Some type of flower he wanted to fill his house with the first chance he got. “After you showed Lainey and me the Winter Room for the first time, I came to you and asked you if there was any way you could squeeze Lainey in, if there were other dates available.”
“I remember.”
“And I remember you answering your front door barefoot, no longer wearing that sweaty t-shirt.” Her cheeks bloomed multiple shades of pink, making her appear innocent and naughty at the same time. His cock twitched at the sight. Stand down, he told himself. He owed her a truth. It was only fair. Afterwards, however, all bets were off. He was going to have her again. He needed to hear those cock-raising screams again, feel her clench around him, milking him, draining him until he had nothing left. He still couldn’t believe that he’d spilled inside her. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Her warmth, the way her heat encased him when he slid into her the first time. There were no words for what he’d experienced, just that it needed to happen again. “Anyway, as I was trying like hell not to gawk at you, I noticed that you didn’t ask me in. I got the sense that you didn’t want me here…inside your home, I mean.” And with that one astute observation, his cock deflated and all desire to fuck her left him. “Did you not want me in your home?”
His fingers had stilled just above her tattoo, and he intentionally h
ad to get them moving again in order to delude her into thinking that her question hadn’t shocked the shit out of him. He also forced a smile to seal the deal while he attempted to tell her the truth, at least enough of it to satisfy her. “With the exception of close family and friends, I have never brought a woman here.”
Her furrowed brow told him that she hadn’t expected his response. “How…I mean…you’ve never brought a woman to your bed?”
“Not here. And that’s why I don’t have condoms in my home.”
Her eyes squinted as she searched his. He could see the wheels turning. Which wasn’t good.
“I believe our truth session is over. We are now even. How about I make us something to eat? Are you hungry?”
A few seconds passed and then her brow relaxed and her eyes softened. “I’m starving, actually. Mind if I take a quick shower before I join you in the kitchen?”
“Take all the time you need. Towels are in the linen closet,” he said, gesturing to the master bath to his right. He stood and retrieved a fresh pair of lounge pants from his chest of drawers. He was in the middle of tying the drawstring when he looked over and caught Peyton staring at him. The lust in her eyes made his cock go from limp to unbreakable steel. “Keep looking at me like that, Peyton, and I will have no choice but to renege on my offer to make you dinner.”
She swallowed and licked those swollen lips of hers. Her heated gaze perused his body but hovered at the growing bulge in his pants. “I…I better get a shower.” She wrapped her beautiful, naked body in his flat white sheet and ran into the bathroom.
***
Peyton
“I hope you’re okay with leftovers.” Peyton hadn’t made a sound, but somehow he knew that she had entered his kitchen. His back was to her as he searched for something in the refrigerator. “There’s a rubber band on the island if you need it,” Luke said.
Holding the waistband of Luke’s enormous lounge pants she walked over, snatched the rubber band off the granite countertop and secured her pants. “I hope you don’t mind that I swiped another pair of your pants.” She looked down at her baggy outfit. “And your shirt.”
“I don’t mind.” He finally found what he had been looking for and emerged from the refrigerator with a bottle of balsamic vinaigrette dressing in his hand and a bowl of salad in the other. He looked at her for the first time since she’d entered his kitchen and her breath left her. How was it that a look, a glance, an arched brow from him could render her speechless…and wet as hell? He didn’t even need to touch her to set her skin on fire. His cheeks appeared flushed and his eyes darkened. “I don’t mind at all,” he said, setting the bowl and dressing on the island.
“Can I help you? I’m not good at being waited on.”
“Everything is pretty much done. I made a lasagna last night, so all I had to do was heat it up. I hope you like Italian.”
She watched him plate their food. “That looks and smells amazing. I didn’t know you could cook.”
Luke laughed. The sound startled her since it wasn’t a common occurrence. “It’s edible, but you’ll see rather quickly why my brother, Brennan, is the chef and I own a winery.”
“Hmm. We’ll see about that.” Feeling useless, she looked around the kitchen for something to clean but everything was spotless. “Are you sure I can’t help?”
“Actually, would you mind picking out a bottle of wine from the rack over there? The glasses are in the cabinet next to the sink.”
She nodded and walked over to the built-in rack. There must have been over fifty bottles of wine to choose from. “I’m not an expert on wine, so your input is more than welcome.”
“Merlot or a Pinot Noir. Both go with this type of meal.”
She pulled out a half dozen bottles from the wooden rack before she found a Merlot. Satisfied, she retrieved two glasses from the cabinet and went to the island. He was waiting for her with a corkscrew in hand. She handed him the bottle and he opened it, which was best. She had a tendency to snap off bits of cork into wine whenever she made the attempt.
“Want to eat in the kitchen or by the fire in the living room?” he asked, pouring the wine.
“Oh, by the fire would be great.”
He grabbed their plates and she retrieved their glasses. She was at his heels, following him out into the living room when she caught sight of Luke’s family portrait on the mantle above the fireplace. She had seen it the night he had rescued her from Eden, but at the time she didn’t have any names to put with the faces that now stared back at her. Peyton stopped and zeroed in on each of his family members. His parents were all smiles as they stared at the camera, surrounded by their beautiful children. Her eyes quickly found Luke and she smiled. From the looks of it the photo had to have been taken several years ago, possibly when Luke was in his late teens or early twenties. His hair was a bit longer then and he wasn’t as filled out, his shoulders not as broad, like they were now. Her smile faded as she met his eyes, the sadness within them. The sight disturbed her. But what really made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end was the realization that whatever had happened to him occurred before this photo was taken.
Peyton took a sip of her wine and let her eyes drift over to Gabe and who she could only conclude was Brennan. Although Gabe and Brennan weren’t identical twins, the resemblance was remarkable. Both men had dark hair, were built for sin and looked like they could take care of themselves if they were ever cornered in a back alley.
But there were subtle differences between the two. Gabe had a dimple on his right cheek when he smiled, but Brennan did not. Brennan had a cleft in his chin and a scar just above his left eyebrow, which made him look rugged and tough as hell. Peyton looked at Jake to further compare the brothers and was instantly surprised at what she saw. This McGinnis was taller than the rest of them and at least twenty pounds heavier. His skin was slightly darker than Luke’s, Gabe’s and Brennan’s. Jake’s olive complexion was similar to that of the proud woman at the center of the photo as well as her stunning daughter’s. And that was when she noticed their eyes. Luke, Gabe and Brennan all had piercing blue eyes, but Jake’s and their sister’s were different.
Peyton balanced both glasses in one hand and grabbed the photo frame before joining Luke on the couch. She handed him his wine and then studied the photo some more. “You, Gabe and Brennan look so much alike. It’s amazing. There’s no way anyone could doubt that you three are brothers. But Jake and your sister…”
“Carina,” he supplied.
“But Jake and Carina, they clearly favor your mother. Their complexion, their eyes… are different than yours.”
Luke placed his wine glass on the coffee table. “May I see the photo?”
“Of course,” she said, handing it over. She took another sip of her wine and watched him study his family members.
“I had just turned twenty-one here. My dad had bought me my first legal beer about an hour before this photo was taken.” Luke smiled, a full smile with teeth. The sight warmed her heart. “I remember it so vividly because it was the first time in months that all of us were together. Between Jake’s football schedule, Brennan and Carina in college and Gabe out to sea, we hardly saw each other.”
Man, she felt like an idiot. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t put it together that Jake McGinnis was the Jake McGinnis, the starting quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles. “Gus would not be happy with me right now,” Peyton said.
“And why is that?” he asked with a lopsided grin.
“Because my dad is a diehard Eagles fan and I, for whatever reason, did not put two and two together. I can’t believe I didn’t realize that Jake McGinnis is your brother.”
Luke smiled at the photo and said, “He worked his ass off to get to where he is, made a lot of sacrifices along the way. But he’s happy, especially now. A few nights before I met you my brother proposed to the woman he has loved…well, since forever, really.”
“That’s amazing!”
&nb
sp; “And so is the story of how they met.”
“I would love to hear it,” she said, sipping her wine.
“I’ll tell you…but maybe a little later. Let’s eat.”
Over the next hour, they ate and talked. She was amazed at how easy it was. Yes, the sexual tension was off the charts, but they were able to focus enough to engage in conversation like real friends. Eventually they moved the conversation off the couch and settled on a blanket in front of the fireplace. Peyton couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he was sitting on the floor, his back against the coffee table, his long legs stretched out before him while talking about his siblings and his parents. It was obvious that he belonged to a tight-knit family.
Although on a much smaller scale, she could relate. Gus and Lainey were her family and there was absolutely nothing they wouldn’t do for each other. She had just finished telling Luke the story of how Walt rescued Lainey from her apartment before it had gone up in flames when he reached for the photo. “We were adopted by Patrick and Lucrezia McGinnis thirteen years before this photo was taken. I was eight at the time, Brennan and Gabe were six.” Luke sighed as he stared at the photo. His smile was long gone, his eyes distant. “That’s the reason for the…discrepancy.”
She had never felt so embarrassed or intrusive in her entire life. The past hour had been wonderful, the dinner, the comfortable conversation by firelight, the stolen heated glances. But she had ruined it all by putting her nose where it didn’t belong. “Luke, I’m sorry. It was incredibly rude of me to point out the fact that…oh my God. I can’t believe myself sometimes,” she said covering her face with her hands and pulling her knees to her chest. She was sitting across from him, her back to the fire, which at the moment was not ideal. She was already feeling toasty, but now, as she allowed her embarrassment to take hold, she felt like her body was going to erupt like a volcano.
