Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
SIX YEARS AGO
Waverly
Another summer at Angie’s beach house. She’s off shopping with her mom and I opted to stay in and read and listen to music. It’s Waverly time. I’ve worked hard my sophomore year of college, I can take one day for myself. Read, relax and recharge.
The house is quiet, the only sound is the distant roar of the ocean at war with the land. My fingers glide between my legs, breaking past the barrier between my bathing suit and my skin. I spent the last hour on the deck reading one of my romances, and after three books of a slow burn, it was a forest fire. Nearly thirty incredibly hot pages of releasing five hundred pages of sexual frustration for the fictional character and the reader.
I replay the scene in my head, substituting the dark Fae with wings for Lukas. My fingers slide over my clit with ease, my hips roll, trying to hold off the pleasure as long as I can. But the thought of Lukas’s tongue, his hand, and his body send me over the edge. I lay in bed satisfied, albeit a little lonely, longing for the real thing. Stupid college fuckboys can’t do in nine months what Lukas can do to me in two weeks. And the video chats and late-night text messages only make me crave his touch more.
Hisflight was delayed and he was trapped in Denver. I hate it. Each summer, his time here gets shorter. How much time do we really have left with each other?
The door catches behind me as I head into the bathroom for my post self-love routine. The humid air hangs thick in the hallway. The house is supposed to be empty, but it’s weird walking naked to the bathroom. My T-shirt barely covers my ass, only one thin layer of cotton separating me from the rest of the world.
“Evening, Waverly.”
I jump, and my breath gets caught in my throat. Lukas stands, his arms crossed, foot resting on the wall. His black shirt is rolled past his elbows, exposing the fresh tattoos on his arms. The shirt’s missing a few buttons, and a black, leather pendant fills the space over his exposed chest. As far as I’ve seen, his chest remains a blank canvas for his art. His expression is almost unreadable to me, but his lip curls at the corner into a sarcastic smirk. He’s laughing at me.
A part of me wants to run right to him, but something’s off. Am I still coming down from my post organism buzz?
“When did you get in?”
He shrugs. “About an hour ago. I thought I was alone. Imagine my surprise to see you deeply engrossed in your book.” Lukas juts his chin out toward my room. “You’ve been going on about that book series for months now.” He grins. “I knew not to interrupt Waverly time.” He uses air quotes around the last two words.
So he was being polite, I guess. I squeak, about to raise my hand to wave, but if I lift my arm too much, my shirt will expose all my lady bits. “You look fancy. Are you heading to the bar?” Please ignore that I’m wearing a faded, high school senior year T-shirt.
His grin grows. “Darren and I are going out to a club.” He pushes himself off the wall and takes a few steps toward me.
“Oh, you don't seem like the club type. Loud techno music, small talk and dancing. Especially after traveling.” Yep none of those things seem to fit Lukas's brand. He seems to be more of a metal guy, working in a tattoo shop most evenings and weekends.
Whenever he’s in a room, my eyes find excuses to stare at him.
He takes one more step and tilts his head. “Not that kind of club.”
“Knitting?” I chuckle at my own joke.
He shrugs and stalks closer. “Well, there are knots involved.” His body seems to fill the space in the hallway, his presence larger than life. “But if you need me here…”
I step back slowly as if he’s a predator, and he’s zeroed in on me as his prey. “What do you mean?” My body is pressed against the wall as he invades my space.
He motions toward my bedroom with his head. “You put on one hell of a show, but you...” He clicks his tongue and braces his hand in the space above my head, towering over me, “...should’ve called. I would have made it last longer. Like I said, I didn’t want to interrupt.” His breath is on my cheek. God, he is so close. My chest pressing against his as my breath quickens. “Isn’t it frustrating you can’t get yourself off as well as I can.”
What? I cover my mouth, a huge mistake as my bare ass presses against the wainscoting. “How? What?”
“You left your balcony door open, and there's a mirror.” He fills my whole field of vision, rubbing his sharp chin with a hand like he’s mulling over the answer to a riddle, then slams his hand on the wall, trapping me. “I enjoyed the whole thing, very much.”
My eyes burn with acid tears of humiliation. He watched. Too many thoughts jam in my head at once. Why would he do that? Those are the obvious questions, but the darker thoughts push through, too. Does he get off on watching other people? Was it an opportunity thing, or did he want to watch me? Did he enjoy what he saw? If he knew what I was doing, why didn’t he join. Does he not want me anymore? Our summer flings are long over and I guess forgotten.
I slam my eyes shut, hoping it will stop any tears. My lower jaw quivers. Then his stubbled chin presses against my cheek as he whispers, “You were magnificent.” His hot lips kiss the soft skin on my neck, and my lower region dampens as my entire body reacts to his words.
Three words. His lips aren’t even on my skin, but he does more for me than anything I did for myself in the last half hour.
A traitorous tear must’ve escaped, as his thumb traces the curves of my cheek. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice is thick with a timbre I've never heard before. I open my eyes to see Lukas’s predatory smirk shift slightly, like he knows a secret and is going to spill. Does he want “us” at all, or is he messing with me? Does toying with my feelings make it easier when he leaves forever.
His fingers brush against my neck and I shiver. Cold, someone must’ve left the door open. That’s it. My skin prickles, my muscles vibrating as his fingertips trace a path past my shoulder, stopping at my wrist.
“Oh, God.” I’m such a dizzying mess of emotions and hormones, and I honestly can’t tell if it was getting caught or the way his thigh has snuck between my legs that induces a multitude of conflicting thoughts to fly through my head. Between the coolness of the wall against my back and his heat pressed against my core, I am a frenzy of emotions. And he watches.
“Do you like this?”
His thigh presses between my legs and I gasp. He still holds my wrist and raises it above my head.
A groan, almost a whimper, escapes my lips. “Yes.”
“Do you like that you can’t move?The way I’m controlling every aspect of you?”
His free hand hovers over me, trapping me in place, then drops quickly and grips my hip, pushing me against his thigh, creating the friction I crave. When I moan again, his eyes bore through me, watching and analyzing every hint my body gives away.
“Both,” I whisper. More! I want more.
He continues grinding my center against his leg. God, what if I get his pants wet? How could I ever look him in the eye again?
But he doesn’t seem to be concerned.
“Then you should’ve waited for me.”
“I didn’t know you were here.” The pressure builds harder than I expect.
“I could finish you off right here, right now.” I remember the sensation of his hands on me, all these years his touch has been burned into my skin. His voice is a husky promise and, God, I want it. That’s why his vibe is all off. Oh, God. We’ve been hooking up for years now, but tonight feels different. Like we’re about to cross some threshold between messing around to something more. Something darker… Something I’ve only read about.
Footsteps down the hall break the spell. He drops his leg and hands, and I’m instantly aware of their absence. Flickers of panic flash across his face. Is he afraid of getting caught? Like being with me is such an awful crime?
He pushes himself off of me, opening the bathroom and lifting me over the threshold in one swift motion. Is he coming in with me?
He shuts the door as the steps get louder, leaving me alone in the room.
“Oh, Lukas, when did you get here?” It’s Angie’s dad. He always sounds cheerful, harmless, wholesome.
But my thighs are soaked, and I’m standing cold and alone in a bathroom. And I don’t like it at all. And right now, I’m not sure I like Angie’s dad all that much.
“Hi, Richard. A little while ago. Dropped my stuff off and was about to go to the bar and unwind for a bit. Travel makes me all edgy.”
“Have fun enjoying seaside bars that overcharge for watered-down beer.” His footsteps get louder. He’s right across from my room, “Hmm, Waverly’s supposed to be here. Have you seen her?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it this year. Your trips out here are getting shorter.”
Lukas laughs. “Yeah, well, I’m working and it’s a lot harder to get the time off.”
Richard huffs a little as he walks away. “If you see Waverly, tell her to turn the lights out when she leaves. Electricity isn’t free, you know.”
“I will.”
The bedroom door at the end of the hall squeaks open and shut. What the hell was the last five minutes? He gets me all hot and horny and throws me in a bathroom and lies about seeing me?
My fears and insecurities chill me more than my barely-there T-shirt. It’s not real. Years of text messages and late-night phone calls. Whispers of promises. All meaningless. He opens the bathroom door and freezes.
“What’s wrong?”
“You lied.” I expect lies from my family, even Angie and Adam, but Lukas was supposed to be different. Rubbing my hands against my arms to warm up, l count the tiles on the floor. “Is it all a lie? For years now we’ve been hooking up over the summer in secret. And every time we’re about to get caught, you hide me away.”
“Oh, love.” He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “From the moment my plane lands at home, I’m miserable because it’ll be a year before I can see you again. Digital contact is empty compared to holding you.”
I want to believe him, yet the fear in the back of my brain gnaws away at my hope. “Then why are you hiding me?”
“They hate me,” he points vaguely to the hallway.“But they love you. And I won’t do something that will damage your reputation.”
“I don’t care.”
He gives me a broken-hearted smile. “Yes, you do. Maybe if you were closer with your other family, you wouldn’t need Angie’s so much. But you care about them.” He steps closer and puts his hand on my check. “And I care about you.” His lips press softly against mine. And I believe him.