Siren's Heart (Siren's Duet Book 1): Love at first sight

15. Chapter Fifteen - Luca

Millie”s happy giggle echoes against the bleak hallway walls of the stadium as I pull her through the backstage labyrinth, her small hand fitting perfectly into mine. I still can’t believe this is actually happening. Our first time plays in my head over and over again. It’s all I think about in quiet moments. Last night I even fucking dreamt of her lips around my cock.

After I finally got to be inside her, she spent the night at my place, and we spent the whole time cuddling and kissing, touching each other whenever possible.

God, I know I’ll grow addicted to the feeling of being inside her. She fit around me perfectly, looking like all the dreams I never knew I had come true the way she rode my cock. I wanted to spend the whole night buried inside her, but the way she winced with every movement after I pulled out of her–not going to lie, kind of a turn-on, but I also felt really bad.

I hated to see her leave in the morning to drive home and get changed for her day. We really need to start planning better and start bringing spare clothes on our dates for impromptu sleepovers.

After that day, both of us got busy again, and now it’s already Monday, and my fingers are itching with the need to touch her, feel her smooth skin and soft curls under my fingertips. There is just no way I can go another day without kissing her.

”Where are we going?” she asks in whispered excitement, squeezing my hand for a second.

I stop and peek around the next corner, spotting an open door at the end of the hallway. ”Somewhere I can have you to myself,” I pull her after me. “I need a minute alone with you and tank a bit of Sunshine.”

”Only a minute?” She shakes her head, amused, but follows me diligently. From the corner of my eye, I see an adorable blush tinting her makeup-free cheeks.

“Maybe two. Or thirty-three,” I admit with a chuckle as I take a look inside the open door and–jackpot. An empty room. I pull her inside, kicking the door shut as soon as she steps through it, and immediately crowd her against the grey-painted wood.

”Hi,” she breathes against my throat, her eyes jumping between my eyes and my lips.

”Hi,” I echo and plant my hands beside her head. She blushes, gnawing at her lip, an adorable dimple on her cheek telling me that she’s fighting a smile. ”I missed you.”

”I missed you too,” she whispers and immediately melts against me, laying her hands against my chest, one of them right above my heart, softly digging her fingers into the fabric of my hoodie.

For a moment, our eyes meet, and with a heavy sigh, all tension seeps out of my body. She’s here. She’s mine. God, will that thought ever stop making me smile?

Probably not. I hope not.

I don”t even realize that our faces gravitate towards each other, and just like magnets, over the last millimeters, we snap into place as our lips meet, and within this one moment, all starts to feel right in the world, my heart thundering against my ribs.

God. The effect this woman has on me.

She sighs into the kiss and melts against me. Not even a sheet of paper would fit between the two of us as I conquer her mouth, teasing her tongue, one of my hands now buried in her hair, strands tangled around my fingers at the back of her head.

Millie returns the kiss with just as much fervor, her hands now in my hair, tugging me closer as she loses herself in the kiss. Fuck. I could spend all day holed up in this stuffy room if that meant I could kiss her. And if we continue, I’m going to have to, unless I want to walk around with a hard-on.

Way too soon, voices from the hallway end the magical moment, and I break the kiss. She lifts her hand, trying to hide her rosy cheeks from me, but I”m not having that. Prying them away from her face, I keep them in mine as the both of us catch our breaths, then lift her wrist to press my lips into her palm.

”I needed that,” I murmur, feeling way better than before we got here. Butterflies assault my stomach when I see her small nod of agreement.

”You look like you got ravaged,” she giggles, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she nods at my hair. ”Let me fix it.”

I lean down a bit so she can reach it easier and let go of her hands. By coincidence, this position brings me face-to-face with her cleavage. It doesn”t help that she”s wearing only a top right now, and I can totally look down her collar. Which I am absolutely not complaining about. Quite the opposite, actually.

Our make-out session definitely woke my cock up, but peering down her shirt? It’s wide fucking awake, I”m rock-hard. And as much as I want to, I”m not doing anything about that as long as I”m at the stadium. That much self-control I have. Barely, but I do.

”There, all done,” she announces, and I hide my disappointment when she takes her hands out of my hair. “Now you don”t look freshly fucked anymore,” she declares and winks at me, releasing my head with a groan.

”You”re going to be the death of me,” I mutter and tear my gaze away from her cleavage, leaning my forehead against hers and search her eyes. What I find in them is amusement and affection, small lines announcing the smile on her lips.

”Likewise,” she mumbles back and brushes my lips with hers in a quick kiss.

The voices on the other side of the door become louder, and I eye the doorknob to my right, hoping, no, sending goddamn prayers that they”re not heading for his room.

We both hold our breaths when the voices are right in front of the door, releasing them when they continue walking and finally disappear down the corridor. While we”ve decided to go public with the relationship, I’m glad we’re on the same page about not having to give anyone a show.

Her arms slide around my back, and she leans her chin against my collarbone, nudging my throat with her nose, causing me to chuckle when her breath tickles my sensitive skin there. If she turns her head, she”ll hear my heart thumping at a gallop.

”Good. I need to recharge a bit before we get out there,” she whispers and takes a deep breath, burying her face in my shirt.

Instinctively, my arms fasten around her as well, hugging her to me tightly.

”That’s the best idea I”ve heard all day.” I lean my cheek on top of her head and rub soft circles along her back, and she makes a cute little sound come from her throat that reminds me of a cat purring.

How am I ever going to survive seeing her even less than now? And it’s only been a few days since we last met.

Nope. Don”t go there, Luca. Don”t think about it. Not yet. You still have more than a week until the match, and you”re going to enjoy it. Everything will fall into place. We”ll find a way to make it work.

”Everything okay?” she asks worriedly, and I realize how tightly I”m hugging her to me. Even though everything inside me protests, even contemplating letting her go, I loosen my grip.

”Yeah. Some depressing thoughts.” I give her another squeeze, then press my lips against her temple. ”I’m thinking way too far ahead. It’s nothing to worry our pretty heads about right now.”

Another pair of voices appear in the hallway, and hesitantly, we let go of each other, and I take a step back. It’s crazy how melancholic the atmosphere has suddenly turned, only because we aren’t touching anymore. I reach for her hand, because I just can’t stand being next to her without holding it.

Once the people have passed the door, I wait for their sound to disappear completely before I open the door for her. But even as I walk her back to her training, I can”t help but stay close to her. My hand is almost shaking with the urge to lay on the small of her back, but there are too many people now.

We talked more about the imminent discovery of our relationship when she stayed over. It would be na?ve to think that we’d be able to keep this a secret for very long. The taxi driver leaking our location to paparazzi already skirted pretty close; it only takes one person: a waiter, a passer-by, or any person really. We can’t spend the rest of our lives in our apartments, after all. Even then, there’d be doormen and neighbors who could talk.

So, we”re pretty much in agreement that if a paparazzi catches us, he catches us. No panic, no drama; we’ll post a picture confirming and that’s it. We”ve messaged both of our managers as much. When the news breaks, we’re going to turn our phones off and let the people talk. We”re just not going to give a fuck. Well, as little fucks as we”re able to, I guess.

It hurts my heart to see how nervous Millie is about it, though. I can see it in her eyes. She’s terrified that it’ll be too much for me.

She mentioned a few times already that it tends to take a toll on her. Understandable–I mean, who would be thrilled about half the world speculating about their love–and sex life? And I think she still doesn”t quite believe that my family and I will be okay. That I won’t drop her like a hot potato once shit hits the fan.

To be fair, I”m not so sure of that myself. I”ve never been in that situation. But I trust my family, and I hope that soon enough, she will, too.

”Hi there,” I say with the grin that she always manages to bring to my face. She opens her apartment door and leans down to greet her with a kiss on her likewise pursed lips.

”Hi,” she replies happily, her whole body brimming with excitement. It”s finally Tuesday, which means it’s time to finish our pottery date. And it would be a lie to say that I hadn”t been looking forward to this from the moment our first date ended.

She looks beautiful tonight. A simple, strapless beige dress that reminds me of the one she wore when she rode me last week, her hair falling over her shoulders, and pouty lips I can”t help but taste again. I”m absolutely underdressed in my jeans and hoodie.

”Please tell me you don”t have dinner planned,” she demands, scurrying to find her handbag in a dresser right next to the door. ”I”m way too excited about getting to paint my baby.”

”Considering you mentioned that once or twice in your messages, I took the hint,” I tell her with a chuckle. She finds her bag, and I hold up my arm so she can scoot under it as we step out of her apartment. Instinctively, she does just that, promptly hiding her blushing face in my hoodie while she locks her door. ”I brought food for the drive, and if we’re hungry later, we can grab a proper dinner. Does that sound alright?”

”Actually, that”s the best thing I”ve heard today,” she says, laying her head against my shoulder. Her whole body moves with the heavy sigh she lets out, and I glance down at her with worry. According to her message, she was stuck in interviews and TV show tapings almost the whole day. She and Kayla have a crazy schedule to promote the match, with Kayla being a momentary sensation and such.

”Was it that bad?”

”Well, it wasn”t great,” she admits with another sigh. Her lips stretch into a tight smile as we step into the elevator, both of her arms snaking around me as the door closes and we’re in here alone. ”The same as always, really. Everyone loves Kayla, and I”m the sidekick. Unless I”m seen with a guy, then I”m his sidekick.” I see her roll her eyes in the mirror.

”Well, you”re the star in my world,” I mumble and press my lips against her hair, keeping them there while we ride down. God, she smells so good. I wish I could put her scent in a bottle and keep it.

”I–” she whispers and bites her lip, avoiding my eyes. I grin when I see her try to hide her blush against my shirt and mumble into the fabric, ”Thank you.”

”Nothing to thank me for,” I insist. ”Ignore the idiots.”

”I”ll try my best.” Her promise hangs heavy in the small metal cabin. She snuggles even deeper into my side as the elevator descends, her arms tight around me as we walk through the underground garage. It’s a bit difficult to walk in a two-arm hug, though, so she relents, and we walk over arm-in-arm to Asher”s car. Asher”s starting to get annoyed for having to be driven around by Kayla or having to call taxis, but well, that”s his fault in my book, and I enjoy being able to remind him of that. He should have convinced Van to rent me a car as well.

As always, I open the car door for her, and she climbs into the passenger seat, her dress riding up her thigh dangerously high. Well, dangerous for me; the thoughts and memories running through my head are a bit… distracting.

I round the car and jump into the driver”s seat, forcing myself to look anywhere but her thighs. But in a moment of weakness, I can’t help but glance over.

”You know, you could just look,” she says with a giggle, lifting her skirt only a few more centimeters to reveal her panties. Fuck. They”re pastel pink with lace and sexy as fuck.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my cock already half-hard. ”You”re going to be the death of me, you know that?” I say, but ‘Holy shit, I need to marry this woman’ is what runs through my head.

And I do. Preferably immediately, but I”ll settle for ”someday.’

”You mentioned as much,” she answers with a happy chuckle. I clear my throat and lean my forehead against the steering wheel, taking a few deep breaths until my cock calms down, then point at the cotton bag in front of her feet.

”Snacks,” I croak out and try to think of anything besides folding down her seat and fucking her right here in the car.

Puppies. Our next training session. Asher. It takes me a minute until I”m completely clear in the head again, and I finally flip the key to start the car.

Throughout the car ride, Millie shares the snacks with me. She feeds me grapes, cheese, and crackers so I can eat while driving, the earlier tension completely at the back of her mind as we joke about the headlines our best friends currently make.

”Did you see that one post where they claimed that Asher”s a submissive and Kayla his dominatrix?” Millie asks, the question almost drowning in her giggle. I perk up.

”No, I haven’t. But please, please send it to me because I promise you, Asher will not hear the end of it.” I need to send that article to Summer. Then again, knowing her, she’s already found it and is currently thinking of the best ways to rub it under his nose.

Millie promises to forward it, and immediately, I feel my phone buzz with her message as I park the car. She doesn”t know it, but she”s the only one besides my family whose message will come through with a buzz, no matter what.

I adore that we’ve turned to the little routine of Millie waiting patiently as I round the car and open her door. Her legs bounce happily when I open the door and her dress rides up her thighs as she turns in the seat to climb out of the car, granting me another flash of her underwear. The groan that comes from my throat is completely involuntary, but it makes her laugh coyly as she pulls it down again.

”Such a tease,” I mumble, kissing her temple as she slides her hand into mine. Instead of walking, she all but skips beside me for the short distance to the alley that leads to Mary”s pottery shop. Both of our eyes find the spot we made out at last week, then to each other, grins threatening to break our faces into two.

”Hi there, you two lovebirds,” Mary greets us warmly when her front door chimes, alerting her to our presence. ”Go on ahead,” she points towards an empty table to our right. ”I”ll be right with you.”

We do as she says, sitting opposite each other. Just like all the other times we did, her foot immediately finds my calf, a warm presence as we wait for Mary to come over. I watch her as she lets her eyes wander over all the shelves with Mary’s creations, curiosity shining in her eyes.

I still can’t believe that I get to call her mine. Whenever I remember, it absolutely blows my mind that I’m this lucky.

”Look at that one.” Millie points, and when I follow her eyes, I see a cup formed like a frog. When I look back at her, I see her eyes sparkling with excitement. ”That”s so cute. Or that one! Oh my God, I could buy the whole shelf.”

I would buy it for her in a heartbeat. Just the image: Millie waking up in the morning, walking to the kitchen disheveled, her face breaking into a smile when she sees the damn frog mug? I’m sold. Give me all of them.

But before I can put the offer on the table, Mary rounds the corner with a tray holding our creations and a bunch of little jars and brushes.

”So,” she declares and heaves it on the table, motioning for me to sit back down when I jump up to help. ”Do you two have any ideas on your colors already?”

She looks at Millie, who has a very precise idea of how she wants her mug to look once it’s finished. She pulls out her phone and shows Mary a few pictures, and Mary takes the time to explain what will and what will not work. After a bit of back and forth, she places a few shades of pinks, peaches, and gold in front of her, explaining in detail what each one does.

When she looks at me, I ask for blue, turquoise, and purple. I have no vision yet, but I’m sure it’ll come to me soon enough. Once the colors are out of the way, she sets down a bunch of brushes and some other funny-looking tools.

”You can use those to carve into your clay,” Mary says, reaching for a bleak mug behind her to show us how she shaves off a small path. Millie hangs on her every word, leaning her head on her hands, her eyes intent, showing that she’s listening intently.

”Well, that is it,” Mary announces and gets up. “Holler if you have questions. I need to go on and get some work done. My bills aren’t paying themselves,” Mary says and shoots us a warm grin before returning to her workshop.

”Does she sell those mugs online?” Millie asks, taking out her phone to look it up. After a few swipes and taps, she starts nodding slightly. Then she frowns.

I lean forward, careful not to tip my mug over, lifting my hand to smooth out the wrinkle between her eyebrows with my finger, worry gripping my heart like an ice fist. ”What is it?”

”I just checked her social media,” she mumbles, tilting her head. ”And I found a campaign to gather funds to keep her workshop running.” She bites her lip and scrolls further, a glossy layer over her pupils. ”Apparently, she started this studio with her husband, who died of cancer five years ago.” She sniffs, closes her phone, and puts it away before her sad eyes meet mine. ”Luca, that”s so sad.”

”Fuck. Poor Mary,” I say, rubbing my hand over my face and reaching for my own phone to make a note to shoot my financial advisor a message. ”Let”s see what we can do.”

Her eyes light up with happiness once more, and she nods eagerly. Curiously, she eyes the different glazes Mary left on our table, but I can tell that the news is bringing her down. I nudge her foot with mine and wait until she lifts her eyes to meet mine.

”We”ll make it right, Millie. It”s going to be fine. She’s our first date spot, and I’m not about to let her go bankrupt.”

She raises her eyebrow, like she doesn”t quite believe me, but finally lowers her head in a slight nod, then reaches for the first color.

The following hour goes by with us barely exchanging words. She”s one hundred percent focused on her mug, while I”m more focused on watching her work. Her intent gaze on the mug…the way she takes her time meticulously planning out where to put which color. She even steals some of my turquoise, and I can”t wait to see what her mug looks like when she’s finished.

Meanwhile, I keep it simple. The body of my mug gets painted turquoise, and I steal some of her gold for the rim, deciding against using the purple. After seeing it on the shelf, I”m not too thrilled with the color, but hey, maybe it will look better once it’s done. I sure hope so. I was really proud of the shape I created, and it would suck if I hated it because the color turned out ashy.

God, she”s so beautiful when she’s working. I could watch her all night. Then I get an idea.

I take one of the carving tools and try to see if I can carve into the bottom of my mug. It’s an awkward angle, but by some miracle, it works. Blowing away the dry clay powder I scrape off, I eye the line I just tried to carve. It”s not perfect by any means, but I can work with that.

It takes a lot more effort than I anticipated, but I”m somewhat satisfied after a few touch-ups with glaze and an array of brushes. It”s even legible! Well, if you know what it”s supposed to say.

I take the smallest brush I can find on the table and try to fill out the carving in gold. Not to toot my own horn, but I”d say it”s pretty successful, standing out beautifully against the turquoise.

There. Now I”m done. It looks great. If I add anything more, I”d just be giving in to my ”too much” syndrome and ruin it.

Then I keep it hidden by tilting the opening towards me, as I continue watching Millie paint hers.

”This is the best date I”ve ever been on, hands down,” Millie raves as we step outside. ”I had so much fun. Thank you, Luca.”

”Guess we”ll have to do it again, then,” I grin and pull her closer, putting my arm around her shoulders. Like a year-old gesture, she snakes her arm around my hip as we start walking in unison.

Tonight is a really nice night. Spring has announced its arrival, and while we definitely needed our sweatshirts out here last week. Now it’s the weird kind of weather where I’m sweating in my hoodie, and Millie’s dress doesn’t seem quite warm enough.

“Would you like my hoodie?” I ask against her temple as we walk, but she shakes her head.

“I’m not that cold.”

“Sunshine, you have goosebumps all over your arms,” I point out, but she only purses her lips and shakes her head again.

“I’m fine.” She glances up at me. “Thank you, though.”

It”s still pretty warm as we walk back to the car, the sun painting the sky in a beautiful pink.

The sky is a beautiful pastel purple today as the sun sets, the few clouds out today tinted in a vibrant pink as the last sun rays illuminate them.

”Can we go for a walk?” Millie asks shyly, squeezing my hip. ”I”m not ready for our date to end yet, and I’m not hungry enough for dinner.”

My chest fills with warmth, my heart fluttering viciously. I’m not ready for it to end, either. Then again, I doubt I’ll ever be truly ‘ready’ to leave her out of my sight.

”There”s a park down the street,” I point out. I found it when I checked out the area before I had Van call the studio.

”Perfect.”

By some stroke of luck, we”re the only pedestrians on the street; only a few cars drive past us, paying us no mind. Like the gentleman I am, I walk between her and the street, shielding her from curious eyes that find our direction occasionally. Or I’m just imagining it.

When we reach the park, I notice that there aren’t many people there as well. When both of us sigh in relief simultaneously, we break into a chuckle.

”So, how did you get into acting?” Millie asks me curiously as we slow down our pace. Her eyes dance over the trees and the first blossoming flowers in the grass, before they find the shimmering water inside a giant fountain that makes up most of the park.

”I always liked acting,” I tell her and pull her aside when a biker passes us just a bit too closely for my liking. ”We did a nativity play in elementary school, and from the moment I got to play one of the mean innkeepers, I was hooked.”

”Ahhwww,” she says and nudges me. ”You were one of the mean guys!”

”And I was the meanest of them all,” I assure her with a chuckle. ”I begged my parents to let me join an acting class. They were very hesitant, but when I started to do my version of acting day in and day out, they deemed official lessons the lesser evil. When I got older, I begged them to let me audition. I did a few commercials here and there and a few minor roles in movies and series, until I landed ”Fall from Grace.” That was my breakthrough.”

”And do you still love it?” she wonders, looking somewhere into the distance, reflections of the sunlight in the water letting shadows and lights dance over her face. ”Even with everything surrounding it?”

”Yeah, I do.” I nod slowly. ”Then again, for me, it”s only a minor part of the job. When my movies release, I have to sit through a few interviews and TV tapings for promotions. But most of the time, when I”m on set, the media leaves me alone, unless I turn into a meme in an interview that releases way after taping it.”

”Lucky you,” Millie giggles. ”Sometimes I wish my job had a bigger part away from the spotlight. But we can’t exactly play in empty stadiums or stop posting updates for our fans just because we don’t want to deal with social media.”

The sigh she lets out breaks my damned heart. I can tell she adores her job and her fans. I can also tell that the whole media involvement exhausts her deeply.

”Then again, your job seems a lot more fun,” I point out another good side. ”You get to meet your fans all over the world. You don”t have to repeat the same sentence thirty times or wake up in the middle of the night because you’ll need four hours to get into special effects makeup.” I grimace, but it’s worth it when I feel Millie shake with laughter. ”Trust me, despite not dealing with media that much, acting isn’t always fun.”

”You”re right. I mean, deep down, I love my job, even if it doesn”t sound like it often,” she assures me intently. ”I love writing songs. I love sharing them with my fans. Having them shout along to my lyrics and dance to our songs is the absolute best feeling in the world. I just wish it weren”t to the detriment of my private life, you know?” She sighs, tightening her hold around my hip. ”I might just be a little anxious about this whole thing.” She gestures between me and her, not meeting my eyes.

”Why?” I stop her at the side of the path and step in front of her so I can lift her chin until she looks at me, cupping her face when she does. ”I”m not one of your exes. Contrary to them, I”m already dealing with paparazzi. I”m not running for the hills, Millie.”

”It”s just–” she starts, then stops herself. ”It”s irrational. I know that. But I”d rather think pessimistic and be surprised than get my hopes up and have my heart broken again,” she whispers, her quiet voice breaking towards the end.

”Hey,” I whisper, stroking her cheek with my thumb, and pulling her closer. ”It”s fine. I”ll prove to you that you”re worth the trouble, Sunshine. Alright? It’s okay if that takes some time. I’ll assure you as often as I need to that I won’t run.”

She bites her lip, looking at me through her thick eyelashes, until she finally gives me the tiniest nod. Good. I leave my palm at the side of her face, brushing my lips against hers quickly.

”We”ll be alright,” I assure her and snake my arm around her shoulder again as we resume walking. A few moments later, I see something move from the corner of my eyes.

”Hey, Millie? 11 o”clock, in case you want to strike a pose.” Only a moment later, we hear a shutter, and a flash blinds us for a moment.

There it is.