7. Lara
Chapter 7
Lara
L uka’s soft hair runs through my fingers while my body still hums from the orgasm he just gave me. I can’t stop touching him. I’m afraid if I do, then this will all turn out to be a dream. The heat of his breath against my skin, the weight of his head on my stomach and the silky strands of his hair remind me that this is real and that what we shared was not just an elaborate fantasy on my part.
With a sigh, he kisses my stomach, not seeming to care that it’s not model-thin and lacking any defined abs, and slowly makes his way back up my chest. I suck in a quick breath when he wraps his lips around my nipple, teasing me with his tongue until every part of my body is aching with want again.
Keeping my hands in his hair, I tug on him, wanting and needing him closer. He gives me one more toe-tingling suck before bringing his gorgeous face to mine.
“Taste how sweet you are, kisa ,” he whispers against my lips. Dragging his tongue along the seam of my mouth, he gives me a slow, teasing lick, just like he’d done to my pussy only minutes ago. Cupping his face, I pull him closer while sucking his tongue into my mouth. His deep groan vibrates against my chest, and it’s just so goddamn masculine that I can’t help but wrap my legs around his waist so I can lock him against me.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs against my lips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I want you on top of me,” I tell him, trying to turn so we’re lengthwise on the hammock again. I let out a squeal when he readjusts his long body and the net I’m lying on swings precariously.
“Don’t you dare let me fall,” I tell him with a laugh.
“Never, kisa .” He grabs the rope netting above my head and braces his other arm beside me. “Our first time is not going to be in a fucking hammock.” He grins down at me, the vivid green of his eyes combined with his dark lashes makes my heart skip a beat. He’s just so damn effortlessly sexy.
“I want to make you feel good too,” I tell him.
“You just made me feel amazing when you came on my tongue.”
The smile he’s giving me is one of pure happiness, and it’s stunning to see.
“I’m glad I did, but I’m being serious. Let me do something for you.”
“I’m fine, baby. You don’t need to do anything. Being here with you like this is enough. It’s more than enough.”
With my legs still wrapped around his waist, I rock up against him, and the rough fabric of his jeans against my bare pussy is electrifying.
“I want to know your body too, Luka.” I pull him closer and run my tongue up his neck, moaning at the taste of his skin and the subtle spicy notes of his cologne that invade my senses and leave me wanting more.
“I want to know everything about you. I want to be able to read your body like you can read mine.”
“You will, kisa ,” he murmurs, the stubble on his cheek gently scratching my skin when I press my face to his. “I promise you will.”
I slip my hands under his shirt and gently start to tug. “Do you mind?”
“Do I mind taking my shirt off?” He gives a soft laugh. “No, baby, I don’t mind.”
“It seemed only fair to ask since I kept mine on.”
He kisses a line along my cheek. “You’re in charge of when and how you give me pieces of yourself, kisa , and every damn one of them is a gift.”
Lifting up so I can pull his T-shirt off, I grab the dark fabric and slide it off his perfect body.
“Jesus,” I whisper when I get my first look at Luka without a shirt on. His chest is inked, but not all of it. There are unmarked spaces that are just waiting to be filled, and I know it’s because he hasn’t thought of the perfect tattoo for those spots yet. Luka never does anything on a whim. Every mark on his skin is there for a reason. My fingers run over the hard lines of his chest and abs, feeling the heat of his skin and the way his body tenses at my touch like he’s holding himself in check while I explore every perfect inch of him.
When I drag my fingers down the thin strip of dark hair that disappears into his jeans, he hisses out a breath and grabs my wrist.
“Lara,” he warns. “I’m barely hanging on as is.”
“I don’t want you to hang on. I want you to let go.”
He arches a dark brow at me. “And how exactly do you want me to do that?”
I smile up at him and reach for the button of his pants.
“Lara,” he warns again, but the deep sound of his strained voice only encourages me to keep going.
I look up and meet his eyes. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”
He lets out a soft laugh. “Well that’s never going to fucking happen.” Grabbing my wrist, he holds my curious fingers in place while he says, “I meant what I said, though. Our first time is not going to be in a hammock.”
“I know,” I whisper. My voice is shaky, and as badly as I want him, I also know that I’m not quite ready to give everything to Luka tonight. He deserves to know the truth first. He deserves to see me, scars and all, and then he can decide if it’s still what he wants, if I’m still what he wants.
“Jesus, I think you’re trying to kill me,” he groans when I start to unzip his jeans. My fingers follow the dark hair lower, wanting to touch him, but he’s angled down towards his thigh, and I can’t get to him.
Sensing my frustration, he reaches in his pants and grips himself. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off the hand that’s slowly pulling his cock from his pants. I’ve seen dicks on the internet, but I must’ve been looking in the wrong place because none of them looked like this.
Luka is huge.
He’s long and thick and covered in pre-cum. Unable to resist, I run one finger along the obvious vein on his shaft. His cock bobs as he hisses out a breath and more arousal coats his head.
“I want to feel you.” I wrap my hand around him, eyes growing wider when I realize he’s too thick for my fingers to manage it.
“You are feeling me, sweetheart,” he groans. Grabbing the net beside my head, he fists the hammock and locks eyes with me. “And if you keep touching me like that and looking at me like you want me to fuck you, I’m going to lose what little control I have left and make a mess all over your beautiful tits.”
The thought of Luka coming on my body has my heart racing and my hand tightening around him as I stroke from base to head.
“I want to feel you against me,” I whisper. “Can you do that? I mean, without going in?”
His jaw is clamped down so tightly I can see a vein throbbing in his neck, but he lowers his face close to mine and growls, “Lift your skirt, kisa . This might very well be the end of me, but I’m helpless to deny you anything.”
I reach between us and quickly pull my skirt up, letting the fabric bunch around my stomach.
“Now slip the other side of your bra down. I want to feel both those gorgeous tits against my skin.”
I lift a shaky hand and tug the other side of my bra down. My breasts are full, but they aren’t huge. I’ve never thought much of my body except to criticize it or notice my shortcomings, but the way Luka looks at me makes me feel like the sexiest woman alive.
He dips his hips and very slowly nudges the head of his cock against my slit. I grab onto his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as a moan slips from between my lips.
“Goddamn,” he groans. “Is this what you want? You want to feel my hard cock against your wet little pussy?”
“Yes,” I moan, pulling him closer when he nudges my slit just enough to tease me, to give me the smallest taste of what it would feel like to have him inside me.
“I can’t fucking wait to feel this tight cunt wrapped around me.” He hovers his lips over my mouth. “You are mine, Lara. Every part of you is mine and only mine. I will never know what another woman tastes like or feels like, just you, kisa .”
“What if you change your mind?”
I feel him smile against my lips. “Not going to fucking happen.”
Before I can say anything, he nuzzles his nose against mine in a surprisingly intimate gesture and gently nips at my top lip as he very slowly runs his entire length over my aching clit.
“Fuck,” I moan, rocking up against him as much as the hammock will allow. Bringing my hand up, I cup the back of his head and bring him closer, making him groan when our chests press together and my hard nipples drag along his skin.
“Are you going to come on my cock like a good girl?” he whispers against my lips. “I want to feel you soak me.”
“Mm-hmm,” I moan as he keeps dragging his length over my aching, swollen clit. He’s soaked in my juices, and the slow, teasing drag is so goddamn smooth. Our bodies work together perfectly, and the pressure starts to build. I’m not going to last much longer.
“I want you to come too,” I tell him. “Please, Luka. I want to share this with you.”
He brings one hand down so he can caress my cheek. “Like I said, I’m helpless to deny you anything.”
My hands run down the tensed muscles of his back, tracing the lines of his shoulder blades and down his spine. I’m slowly memorizing every inch of this man, imprinting him into my mind and onto my body so there isn’t a part of me that’s left untouched.
Every part of him is taut, tensed, and straining with need, but he keeps rocking his hips gently, slowly stroking me where I need him while he brings his lips to mine and kisses me slowly, like he’s savoring me, even though this must be pure torture for him. I think about all the horror stories I’d heard whispered in the halls at school, the girls whose boyfriends slammed into them before they were ready and then left them sore and unsatisfied from the dry fucking and unskilled hands. Luka is nothing like that. If he hadn’t told me he’d never done anything before, I never would’ve known. He’s observant and patient, eager to please and sexy beyond words.
When he circles his hips, rolling the head of his cock over my achingly tight bundle of nerves, I latch onto his tongue and suck him further into my mouth at the same time as I lock my ankles behind his back and rock up against him.
My breasts lightly bounce as his thrusts grow harder, and when I start to scream my release, instead of kissing me harder to stifle it, he breaks our kiss so he can hear it.
“Fuck, kisa ,” he growls. “I can feel your pretty pussy pulsing against me, soaking my cock and begging me to slide in and spread you wide.”
Pleasure floods every part of me, stealing my ability to think or speak. All I can do is let the ecstasy consume me, and right when it starts to fade, he gives one more hard thrust, groaning my name as his body stiffens. His cock swells even bigger against my pussy right before I feel him pulse. He lifts up just enough for me to feel a wet heat hit my stomach and chest.
I watch his beautiful face, the sultry, heavy-lidded look he’s giving me, the taut lines of his jaw, the pulsing vein in his neck, and the way he doesn’t hide any of it from me. He lets me see exactly what I do to him, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen .
With one last pulse of his cock, he drops his head and lets out a soft laugh. “Jesus Christ, kisa, I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
I smile and run one hand through his hair as he lifts his eyes to mine. “Better than just using your hand?” I tease.
“A thousand times better.” His eyes run over my face before dropping to my chest and stomach. He sighs and lets out another soft groan. “God, you look fucking gorgeous covered in my cum.”
Looking down, I see the streaks of white covering my stomach and breasts. My eyes stay locked on his hand as he brings it to my body, using his fingers to rub his semen all over my skin until I’m glistening and sticky and feeling every bit like I belong to Luka.
His thumb runs over my wet nipple, and when I see him start to grow hard again, I let out an appreciative sigh and grab his hand, pulling his fingers to my mouth. I’m curious what he tastes like, and when I wrap my lips around two of his fingers, he whispers something in Russian while sinking deeper into the wet heat of my mouth, sliding along my tongue and gently exploring while I suck him clean.
The taste is completely unique and foreign to me, slightly salty and undeniably masculine. When he slowly pulls his fingers out, I grab his wrist and kiss his palm.
“Next time I want you to come in my mouth.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
I laugh as he smiles down at me. He kisses me again and then scoots us so he’s on his back again and I’m snuggled up against him. My hand rests on his chest, tracing the ridges and dips of his pecs and abs, feeling happier than I’ve ever been.
“I don’t want this to end,” I whisper.
“It’s not ending, kisa . It’s just beginning.”
His fingers run through my hair, lulling me into a peaceful haze that I never want to leave. I feel safe with him, safe and protected, and that’s something I’ve never felt before. I’ve always had to be the strong one at home, the one who took care of my mom and dealt with all the shit that goes along with that, but no one’s ever just held me and made me feel safe and taken care of. I never want it to end, and I’m terrified that it will, that he’ll change his mind and realize he can do a thousand times better than me, or that he’ll see my scars and be disgusted, or leave when he hears the truth about my mom and her delusions about his family.
He taps one finger gently against my temple. “I can feel you already starting to doubt everything, and I’m going to need you to stop doing that.”
I snuggle in closer and kiss his stubbled cheek. “I’ll try.”
“What can I do to make it easier to believe me?”
“Don’t disappear on me,” I whisper against his neck.
“I would never do that.”
Resting my palm against his cheek, I breathe in his scent and kiss the tattoo beneath my lips. “Promise me this isn’t just a game and that it actually means something to you.”
“Hey, look at me.” He scoots his head back, cupping my cheek and tilting my face so he can see me. His gaze is unwavering and his voice strong when he says, “If I didn’t think it would scare the hell out of you, I’d tell you exactly how I feel about you and what I see our future being, but since this is only our first date, I’ll just say that I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”
Leaning closer, he ghosts his lips over mine and whispers, “I can still taste your pussy on my tongue, kisa , and that means something to me. You’re the only woman I’ve ever kissed.” I feel him smile and the soft exhale of his breath as he gives a soft laugh and adds, “Anywhere.”
His green eyes find mine again, and he drags the back of his knuckles along my cheek. “And that also means something to me.”
He’s so fucking sweet, and guilt hammers at my chest, suffocating me with the weight of my secrets. I’m not ready to show him my arms, but there’s no way in hell I can keep the rest from him.
“I have to tell you something,” I whisper, scared that he’s going to stop looking at me like I’m something precious, that his beautiful eyes will turn hard and uncaring once he hears the truth about my mom.
“You can tell me anything, Lara.”
My voice is still nothing but a shaky whisper when I say, “I didn’t tell you everything about my mom. I told you she’s not well mentally, and that’s true, but there’s more to it than that.”
I keep my hand on his chest, needing to feel the heat of his skin beneath my fingers, using him as my anchor while I tell him the rest.
“I’ve been told my whole life that my dad was this amazing guy who was cruelly murdered when my mom was pregnant.”
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” he starts to say, but I shake my head.
“You don’t understand. My mom always said it was the Melnikov Bratva that did it. She hates your family and blames them for everything.”
“What?”
“I know she’s delusional, and I’ve always believed that my dad was probably some loser who got her pregnant and then deserted her and that she built up this elaborate story to make herself feel better, to give herself someone to blame.”
“What was his name?”
There isn’t any anger behind his words, and he’s still looking at me with that same sweet look, so I keep talking.
“She’s always refused to tell me. She insisted it wasn’t safe for me to know, but the other day I asked her, and she told me his name was Osip Lebedev.” I’m surprised when I feel a lump in my throat and my eyes start to water. “My last name isn’t even Swan. Everything my mom has ever told me has been a lie.”
Luka cups my face and kisses me. “I’m sorry,” he whispers against my lips, “but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. My family has made a lot of enemies over the years, but the name Lebedev isn’t familiar to me. All this would’ve happened around the time I was born.”
He’s quiet as he thinks, but his thumb keeps stroking my skin, a gentle touch that reminds me nothing has changed between us.
“I’ll ask around, see what I can find out.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Luka. I think my mom just fixated on your family for some reason.”
He gives me a small smile. “That explains why you didn’t want her to see me.”
“Well, that and I’m a little embarrassed. She sometimes decides that it’s necessary to put foil on all the windows so the evil Melnikovs can’t find us.”
My face heats up with my confession, but he doesn’t laugh at how crazy my mom is or look appalled by her delusions. He just cups my face and whispers, “How the hell do you not hate me? She’s been teaching you to fear and hate my family since you were little, but you’ve been nothing but sweet to me. How is that even possible?”
I brush a strand of dark hair from his forehead and lean closer to kiss his chest. “I make my own decisions about people, and I knew there was something wrong with my mom. I love her, but I don’t trust what she says. I know she doesn’t see things how they really are sometimes.” Looking up, I meet his green eyes. “And how in the hell could I be anything but sweet to you? You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met.”
He gives me a big smile and lets out a soft laugh. “There are quite a few people who would disagree with you about that, but I’m glad you think so. I feel the same way you do. I could never be anything but sweet to you, kisa .”
With that weight off my shoulders, I settle back in against him, resting my head against his chest while he continues to stroke my hair. I never want to leave the comfort and security of his strong arms. We rock gently in the hammock, a comfortable silence settling around us, and I must doze off at some point because the next thing I know, Luka is kissing my head and whispering, “Did you fall asleep on me, sweet girl?”
“Oh shit,” I mumble, jerking up, worried that I’ve somehow managed to sleep through the night and that my mom will be freaking out that I haven’t come home yet.
“Relax, kisa , it’s only been an hour.”
My body is almost fully on his, my shirt is undone, bra pulled down, and my skirt is still bunched at my waist. I’ve obviously been pretty much mauling him like a goddamn bear while I slept, and I’m surprised the poor guy could even breathe.
“I’m so sorry.” I try to scramble out of the hammock, but I’m still disoriented from coming out of a deep sleep, and I nearly tip us both over. Luka’s arms wrap around me, pulling me close and cupping the back of my head so if we fall, I’ll be protected.
“Sweetheart, don’t ever apologize for laying your beautiful body on top of mine.”
“Could you even breathe?”
“Easily. I’m not the delicate flower you seem to think I am.”
“I don’t think that. I just think I’m heavy.”
“Well, you’re not, so stop thinking it.” He runs a hand up my thigh and bare ass, filling his hand with my cheek while he gives a deep, masculine groan. “You are feminine perfection, kisa . Absolutely fucking perfect, and if I could have kept you here all night, I would have, but I’m guessing your mom will worry if you don’t get back soon.”
“She will. Thanks for waking me.”
“I’ll always look out for you, Lara. You never have to worry about anything when you’re with me.”
God, those words alone are enough to make my pussy wet again. Luka’s the complete package, and as sexy as he is, it’s the sweet words, the tender touches, and the way that he looks at me as if I’m something special, something worth cherishing, that really get to me. Despite my fucked-up upbringing, I’ve never thought of myself as having daddy issues, but I think I might have a few comfort issues, if that’s a thing. I wasn’t aware of it until a tattooed pair of arms wrapped around me, making me feel safe for the first time in my life. Now, I’m addicted to that feeling, addicted to him , and I can’t get enough.
I reluctantly force myself out of the hammock and straighten my clothes while sneaking peeks at Luka. He’s still hard, and I wonder if he’s been that way this whole time. The desire to get on my knees for him is strong, but I know if I do that, then I’ll end up staying here all night, and we’re already pushing things. I should’ve been done with my shift at Ria’s thirty minutes ago, and my I had to stay late to help clean excuse will only buy me so much time.
I still let out a pained sigh when Luka tucks his thick cock back in his pants and slips his shirt back on, hiding all that beautiful muscle from my hungry gaze. He gives a soft laugh and cups the back of my head, leaning down so he can kiss me. His other hand snakes under my skirt, cupping my pussy from behind in a possessive grip that screams ownership.
“I’m keeping your ripped panties, kisa . I’m going to breathe in your scent and then wrap them around my dick when I jerk off to the memory of how goddamn good your pussy had tasted.”
He nestles one long finger against my slit, barely pressing in.
“God, I can’t wait to feel you around me.”
“Me too,” I whisper, wanting him to slide in, to give me a taste of what it will be like, but he doesn’t. With a groan, he brings his hand to his mouth, sucking his finger clean before pressing his lips to mine in a scorching kiss that leaves my legs wobbly, my pussy throbbing, and my heart racing.
“Time to get you home, kisa .” His voice is rough against my swollen lips. Need vibrates off him, the same as me, and I’d give anything if he could just carry me inside and claim every inch of me right now. Reading me easily, he nips at my bottom lip and whispers, “Soon, sweet girl. I promise.”
I nod and thread my fingers through his when he takes my hand. He stops to pick up my ripped panties, shoving them into his pocket with a wink before leading me back inside. On the way, I pluck one of the roses and bring it to my nose, inhaling the sweet scent. I almost leave the others, but then at the last second, I scoop up the entire vase and clutch it to my chest. It’s the first time anyone’s ever given me flowers, and I want to keep them.
Luka raises a dark brow at me, and I say, “It’s not my fault one of my coworkers had roses delivered from an ex-boyfriend that she hates so she gave them to me.”
“I hate that you have to say that to keep them.” He closes the French doors behind us and grabs his keys from where he’d left them on the counter. Stopping back in front of me, he hooks a finger under my chin, looking like he wants to tell me something. He pauses, running his thumb over my lips before giving a slight shake of his head and settling on, “It won’t be like this for long.”
I’m not sure what he means by that, and he doesn’t give me a chance to ask about it, just takes my hand again and leads me out of the beautiful penthouse that’s now filled with memories of us.
The drive back to my apartment is a depressing one. Each mile is a reminder of the division between us, the separation that has more to do with our families than the actual distance.
“If you don’t live at that apartment, where do you live?”
He picks my hand up from where he’d set it on his thigh and kisses the back of it. “I live with my mom and dad and little brother in the big high-rise building that’s a few blocks from Daily Grind. Do you know that coffeeshop?”
“Yeah, it’s on the posh side of the city,” I say with a laugh. “What’s your brother like?”
“Damien is sixteen, a huge gamer, and pretty damn stubborn,” he says with a smile. “We get along great, and after I drop you off, I’ll be spending the rest of the night in his room, helping him with his next English lit paper. They’re working on Jane Eyre at the moment.”
“You’re teasing me,” I say, laughing while trying to imagine Luka spending the evening while deep in thought about Charlotte Bront?’s classic novel.
“I am not,” he insists. “The first night I met you, I stayed up late watching the movie with him because it was way too long for me to read it out loud.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”
“He’s dyslexic, and it’s just easier for him this way. I wouldn’t normally give out that information because it’s not my story to tell, but you’ll be meeting him, and he’s very self-conscious of it. I know you’d feel terrible if you unknowingly said or did something that put him in an awkward position, so I figured you should know about it.”
“Thanks for telling me.” I smile over at him. “Romantic dinners and staying up late watching Jane Eyre to help your baby brother—your tough Bratva image is slipping.”
“Uh-oh.” He grins, not giving the slightest fuck.
I’m starting to think that maybe the Bratva isn’t what I think it is, maybe the movies and books are misleading, or maybe things have changed. It’s possible his family is just involved in some illegal gambling or hacking and stealing money like his cousin did for the penthouse apartment. I can’t imagine Luka being violent.
Instead of dropping me off at the curb where he’d picked me up, he parks in the underground garage and then carries my flowers as we take the elevator up to the fourth floor. Without me having to ask, he stops a few feet before my door to say goodbye to me. Ducking down so his face is close to mine, he whispers against my cheek, “I love how fucking short you are.”
“I’m not short,” I whisper back. “You’re just really tall.”
He smiles and kisses a line to my lips. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too.”
He kisses me slowly, lips soft, tongue gently teasing mine, like he’s savoring every last second we have together. The scent of roses fills my nose, mixing with the spicy musk of his cologne and creating a cocktail that I’d very much like to get drunk on. When he pulls back, cupping my face, I feel more than a little tipsy.
“You’re mine, Lara.”
I nod, clutching at his shoulders and standing on my toes to try and get our bodies closer.
“Say it, kisa . I need to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper back to him.
“Only mine.”
“Only yours.”
His body relaxes at my words while a sexy grin plays at his lips. “And I’m yours, sweet girl, only yours.”
It seems too good to be true, but I don’t question it. I just nod and kiss him again, never wanting this to end. When I can’t put off going inside any longer, I pull back and run my fingers over his stubbled cheek.
“I have to go.”
“I know. Give Pip a pet for me.”
“I will, and I’ll send you more photos.”
“Make sure you’re in them.”
I smile up at him and nod. “Okay, but just so you know, I hate taking photos of myself.”
He gives me a wink. “Might want to get over that, kisa, because I want a lot of them.”
“I want photos of you too. It’s only fair.”
“Deal.” He gives my ass a soft smack and one more lingering kiss to my lips before taking a step back and handing me the vase of roses. “You’re impossible to say goodbye to.”
I force my feet to move. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers. Can you text me when you get home so I know you made it?”
The grin he gives me is equal parts adorable and sexy. “Worrying about me already, kisa ?”
“I can’t help it.”
“Of course I’ll text you. You think I could fall asleep without telling my girl goodnight?”
Even though I don’t fall to the floor, this is the second time I’ve been knocked on my ass in front of Luka Melnikov, because I’m a fucking goner for him and his sweet words and incredibly handsome face.
He gives me a wink. “Go inside, Lara, before I do all the things your eyes are begging me for.”
The wetness between my thighs is a vivid reminder that my ripped panties are still in the pocket of his jeans and that it wouldn’t take much at all for him to close the distance, lift my skirt up, and slide into me. If it wouldn’t be my first time with him, I’d already be closing the distance, but he’s right. I don’t want my first time to be in the shitty hallway of my apartment building with my mom right on the other side of this door. I want the freedom to scream his name when he slides into me. After seeing how big he is, I’m confident there will definitely be screams involved.
“Night, Luka,” I whisper.
“Night, baby,” he whispers back, watching me unlock my door and then giving me one more wink before I slip inside.
Every part of me is still buzzing from Luka’s presence, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see my mom asleep on the couch, thankful that I won’t have to face her with my flushed face and my vase of roses. Pip hears me and lifts his head from where he’s cuddled next to her, and as soon as he sees me, he jumps off the couch and comes scampering over. Scooping him up in my free hand, I cover him in kisses and bring him into my room.
After setting my flowers on my nightstand and changing into some comfy pajamas, I play with Pip and then put him in the tiny blue-and-white striped T-shirt we’d picked out for him. I take several photos and then make sure to get myself in one before sending them to Luka so he’ll see them when he gets home and checks his phone.
Pip plays with one of his toys while I grab my laptop and then let out a sigh of disappointment when I see that I still don’t have any responses to my message. No one is going to remember some random guy who was here twenty years ago, and it’s pointless to keep hoping for a miracle. If I want answers, I need to get them myself.
“This is probably a very bad idea,” I whisper to Pip, but I’m already off the bed and quietly making my way into the living room. My mom doesn’t sleep often, but when she does crash, she crashes hard. Her deep, even breaths remain steady, and when she continues to show no signs of waking, I sneak down the tiny hall to her room. Snooping isn’t something I would normally do, but I’m desperate for answers, now more than ever, and I have every right to know who the hell my father was.
Pip follows at my heels, my adorable sidekick who’s more than happy to land his ass in trouble with me. He’s a ride-or-die kind of guy, and I can appreciate that. I lean down and give him a pet to let him know I appreciate his loyalty. He purrs, accepts my loving, and then pounces on the sock my mom’s left on her bedroom floor, effectively eliminating the threat.
Turning a small lamp on, I scan my mom’s room. We don’t have a lot of things, and my mom has a lot of issues, but hoarding isn’t one of them, so my hopes are low that I’m going to find anything. A quick glance under the bed, reveals nothing but a set of hand weights and a dusty yoga mat, her dresser is filled with nothing but clothes, and I refuse to look in her nightstand. A woman’s nightstand is her own business, and I really doubt she’d keep any mementos of my dad in there anyway. That leaves the closet.
My first look around doesn’t reveal anything but clothes, shoes, and a few purses, but when I stand on my tiptoes and run my hand along the top shelf, my fingers hit the end of a box. Snagging the corner, I give it a push so it angles over the edge, making it easier to grab onto and pull it down. I’m hoping for answers, maybe some paperwork or photos, but what I get are a pair of hot pink stripper heels.
“What the fuck?” I whisper. My mom doesn’t wear heels. She hates them, and now that she’s not working, she rarely wears anything other than her fuzzy slippers. I run my fingers over the stilettos, unable to picture my mom, or any woman, walking around on these death traps. They’re a broken ankle just waiting to happen. I’m about to put the lid back on the shoebox and call this treasure hunt a bust, but then I see the flash of a business card hidden beneath them.
The card is simple, almost obnoxiously unpleasant with the dirt-brown font written across a dingy white card that’s the exact color of a nicotine-stained wall, whether that’s from age or by design, I’m not sure.
Lou’s is written across the front with nightly shows, best girls in the city, private dances written beneath it, one phrase stacked on top of another in an attempt to squeeze as much info as possible on the small card. The address isn’t far from Pink, but I don’t remember ever seeing the place before.
Why the hell does my mom have stripper heels and a card for a strip club hidden in her closet ?
Another quick search of her closet doesn’t reveal any other secrets, so I take a photo of the business card and then tuck everything back up on the shelf where I found it. Grabbing my partner in crime, I cradle Pip against my chest and race back to my room just in time for my phone to buzz with Luka’s incoming text.
Safely back at home, kisa. You can stop worrying now, and thanks for the photos. You’re unbelievably gorgeous and Pip looks cute as a Russian sailor.
You owe me a photo, possibly several.
Give me just a sec.
I hurry up and brush my teeth and then sink into bed with Pip by my side while I wait for the photos. When the first one comes in, I suck in a quick breath. Luka’s smiling face fills my screen, and although no photo could ever do him justice, this one gives it one hell of a try. The vivid green of his eyes shines through, and the full mouth that’s spread into a grin immediately reminds me of how good those lips had felt between my legs.
“Jesus,” I whisper, quickly saving the photo right before a few others come in. I take my time with each one, studying them in detail, wanting to know every aspect of this man’s life. One of the photos is a shot of his lap, but sadly it’s not a dick pic. He’s sitting on what looks like a giant beanbag chair with a laptop balanced on one thigh and a copy of Jane Eyre on the other. The next photo is a younger guy, who has to be Damien, judging by the resemblance. His eyes are brown, but they’re the same shape, and he clearly shares his brother’s good looks. God, their dad passed down some amazing genes. His younger brother is looking over and giving Luka an unamused stare, one dark brow arched and game controller in hand. The last photo is of the laptop screen where he’s typed: You are beautiful, Lara Swan, and I can still taste your pussy on my tongue.
I quickly text him back.
That’ll definitely get the teacher’s attention.
He’d get an A+ for sure.
Absolutely! Good luck on the essay.
Thanks. It shouldn’t take me too long. Jane and I go way back.
Should I be jealous?
Definitely. I’m not sure how I’ll get this written up with the giant hard-on I have right now.
I laugh out loud and send him a few of the laughing emojis.
Just don’t jerk off thinking about anyone but me.
Never, sweet girl. Your panties are still in my pocket, and you’ll be the only woman on my mind when I take them out later.
I’m glad he can’t see the big stupid grin on my face when I read his text. I love having all his attention, and I don’t ever want it directed at anyone else. I’m incredibly selfish when it comes to him. I want him all to myself.
I miss you.
I know it’s crazy since I just saw him, but I do. I miss him like crazy.
I miss you too. Get some sleep, kisa, and text me in the morning.
I will. Night, Luka.
Night, baby.
I look through his photos once more before forcing myself to try and sleep. I manage to get in a few hours before Pip wakes me up by kneading my stomach and purring like a little muscle car. He’s so cute I can’t even muster up the energy to be irritated. I get him his food and spend the morning with my mom, trying to not make it obvious I snooped through her room last night.
I already know what I need to do, and as soon as I’m able to, I make up an excuse about needing to run some errands and escape the apartment. I’m not sure what my plan is, but I want to get a glimpse of Lou’s. I take the subway and then walk the few blocks to the address that was printed on the business card. When I see it, I inwardly cringe at the seedy-looking club that looks like it should’ve been, and probably was, condemned at some point.
There’s no way in hell I’m going into that place alone. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to not enter the shady-as-fuck-looking strip club by myself. I listen to the warning and text the one person I know I can count on.
Are you free by any chance? Do you think you could help me with something?
The response is immediate, and despite the dirty street corner I’m standing on, a warmth rushes through me and a smile spreads across my face when I read his text.
Where are you? I’m on my way.