27. Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Lila
The scent of vanilla and brown sugar fills my kitchen as I pull another batch of cookies from the oven. My hands shake slightly as I carefully transfer the hot cookies from the tray to the cooling rack. I’ve already finished a batch of chocolate chip cookies—Luke’s favorite—that I baked twenty minutes ago.
Stress baking. It’s what I do.
The kitchen in my half of the duplex is small but efficient, and right now, it’s working overtime. Flour dusts the counter, and there are at least three mixing bowls in the sink. My face feels flushed from the oven’s heat or maybe from the anticipation coursing through my veins .
I brush a strand of blonde hair from my face, leaving what’s probably a smear of flour on my nose. My oversized Wild Band t-shirt is spotted with vanilla extract, and my shorts fit just a bit too snugly, but I can’t focus enough to change.
The front door opens, and Luke fills the doorframe. All six-foot-two of him, broad shoulders, and that gorgeous face that makes my heart skip a beat. His blue eyes lock onto mine.
“It’s done,” he says simply.
I freeze the spatula halfway to the cooling rack. “Sterling Motors?”
“Safe. Dad’s in control. Marcus is in custody.” His eyes drift to the cookies. “And Crystal...”
“And Crystal?” My voice barely works.
“Is no longer my problem.”
The spatula clatters to the counter. I’m moving before I realize it, launching myself across the kitchen into his arms. He catches me easily, lifting me off my feet as his mouth finds mine.
The kiss is electric, passionate, and everything we’ve been yearning for since this started. His hands span my waist as he presses me against the counter, and I thread my fingers through his hair, drawing him closer. He tastes like coffee and every dream I’ve been afraid to voice. When he groans into my mouth, heat pools low in my belly.
Then suddenly, he’s pulling away, putting space between us. The loss of contact leaves me cold.
“Luke?” I hate how small my voice sounds.
He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up in ways that would be adorable if he didn’t look so troubled. “We need to talk about what’s coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“The press.” He starts pacing, his movements tightly controlled. “It’s already starting. The media will get hold of this story. The paparazzi will have a field day.”
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly conscious of my messy appearance. “How bad?”
“They’ll focus on Marcus first, then my broken engagement to Crystal.’” His laugh is bitter. “But sooner or later, they’ll find out about us. They’re going to follow you, dig into your life, try to make this into something scandalous. Your whole world is about to change. Everything you do will be photographed and analyzed.”
“Luke—“
“You’ll have no privacy. They’ll tell stories about you and speculate on how you came between Crystal and me. They won’t care that none of it’s true.”
“Stop.” I move toward him, but he backs away.
“Lila, you deserve to know what you’re getting into. This isn’t just dating a guy in a band anymore. This is—“
“This is you trying to protect me.” I close the distance between us, refusing to let him retreat. “But I’m not scared.”
He stares down at me, conflict written across his handsome face. “You should be.”
“Why? Because some photographers might follow me? Because people might say mean things?” I reach up, cupping his cheek. “I can survive gossip, Luke.”
“I should have waited—should have found a better way to handle this.” His hand covers mine. “The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”
“You could only hurt me by pushing me away.”
Something breaks in his expression. His arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. I breathe in his scent as his chin rests on top of my head .
“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly.
“At what?”
“Letting someone else be strong for me.”
I smile against his shirt. “Good thing I have plenty of practice being stubborn.”
His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Yeah, I noticed that.” He pulls back just enough to look at me. “You’ve got flour on your nose.”
“Hazard of stress baking.”
His thumb brushes my nose, gently wiping away the flour. The gentle touch sends shivers down my spine. “Those chocolate chip cookies for me?”
“Maybe.”
“And what’s in the oven now?”
“Brown butter snickerdoodles. New recipe.”
His eyes darken. “You know what your baking does to me.”
“Maybe that was the point.” I stretch up on my tiptoes, brushing my lips against his jaw. “Want to taste?”
His grip on my waist tightens. “The cookies, or you?”
“Both?”
The growl that escapes him makes me giggle. Then his mouth is on mine again, and I’m not thinking about paparazzi or press coverage or anything except the way he makes me feel.
He lifts me and carries me to the couch, then lets me slide slowly down his front. I marvel at his strength, and it sends a shiver through my entire body. I’m barefoot. Luke toes off his loafers. We take turns undressing each other.
The first piece of clothing off is my t-shirt.
“Wild Band, huh? I like seeing you in that.” His voice sounds possessive. As he slips it over my head, he whispers, “But I like seeing you even more like this.” His warm hands cup my breasts through the lace of my bra.
My hands unbutton his dress shirt, pulling it from his waistband. My palms explore his chiseled abs, and I hear his harsh intake of breath. He bends so I can pull his shirt off his shoulders. He makes quick work of my shorts, leaving me standing before him in only my white lace bra and panties. He takes his time. His gaze burns as it travels slowly over my exposed curves.
Seeing the lust in his eyes makes me almost dizzy. I step forward, and my hands reach for his waistband. I unbutton his dress pants, slowly lowering the zipper. My hand slips inside and cups him. His cock is warm, almost hot, and he groans as I stroke him. His fingers circle my wrist, and I glance up at him in surprise.
“Not yet,” he grits out.
At my smile, he pulls off his pants, taking his briefs with them. My eyes slip down to see his growing erection. Then he’s pulling me to him, his skin hot against mine. As he kisses me, his hands expertly unclasp my bra, and my full breasts spill out. His broad hands capture them, and he lightly squeezes and fondles each, pressing his thumb over my nipples.
He pulls back slightly and sits down on my couch. He strips off my last remaining barrier, my white panties, and pulls me onto his lap, facing him. My knees on either side of his hips. His mouth closes over a breast, and he alternates, taking turns grazing each with his teeth. His hands are the only thing keeping me from falling backward as I tilt my head back.
His hand sweeps through my hair, removing my scrunchy so that my hair falls out of its messy bun and cascades down my back.
Luke lifts his head from my nipples and pulls me toward him so that I’m sitting up straight. Then I feel his free hand slide between my thighs. His long, talented fingers find my slick folds, and he slides a fingertip through them. I shudder in his arms, leaning my forehead against his shoulder as he continues to work me with his hand.
“Damn, you’re tight. And so responsive,” he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. As soon as he feels a brief tremor, he removes his hand, and I shiver in disappointment or anticipation of what comes next. I sit back and meet his eyes. His face is tight with his arousal, his bright blue eyes brilliant and intense.
His eyes stay locked on mine as his hands spread my thighs wider, and I lift up, putting my weight on my knees until I’m over him. His hands slip from my waist to my hips and down, cupping my ass with his broad hands as he pulls me down onto him. Impaling me with his thick, hard length. Once I’m fully seated over him, it feels so good a small moan escapes my lips.
His hands don’t need to urge me to move as I rise up and down with the occasional slow swivel. I’m in control, and I revel in the feeling—knowing I’m the one turning him on. I finally close my eyes, his blue eyes too intense. Concentrating only on our connection, I continue to move, setting the rhythm, just to change it slightly now and then .
Our breaths grow ragged, his thrusts more forceful, my motions more jerky until we both shout as we climax simultaneously. I slump forward, resting my face into the crook of his neck, his hands lightly caressing up and down my back, as our breathing slows.
His hands tighten around my hips as we begin to disengage when suddenly, we both become aware of the pungent smell of something burning.
“The cookies!” I scramble the rest of the way off his chest, run to the kitchen, and grab my oven gloves. I open the oven door, and smoke billows out. I take the charred cookies out of the oven, being careful of the hot tray and place them on top of the stove.
Instantly, the smoke alarm starts to blare, and I see a naked Luke try to shut it off as I grab a dish towel and try to fan the smoke away from the alarm. Luke finally jumps up and knocks the alarm off the ceiling. It clangs as it hits the kitchen tile—the sudden silence startling.
My eyes fly to his. I see the amusement in his eyes, and my lips start to curve upward as well. We both begin to laugh as we stand naked in my kitchen, the smell of burned cookies filling the air. Luke advances and pulls me against his chest, where I can feel his laughter as he holds me close .
“Some chef I am,” I say ruefully, my face pressed against his broad chest.
“I’m the one at fault. I… ah… distracted you.”
His hands are in my hair, and he lifts my face to his. “And I’m looking forward to distracting you some more…” His lips cover mine in a slow kiss as I melt against him, all thoughts of burnt cookies replaced by his taste.
The rest of the afternoon is spent being lazy, with numerous distractions as we revel in our time together.
It’s later, and the sun has already set when Luke asks me if I want to take a walk on the beach with him. But as we approach the back deck, the flash of a camera through the sliding glass door makes me jump, and Luke immediately pulls me away from view.
“They found us already,” he mutters, his jaw tight. “So much for our walk on the beach.”
Luke pulls out his phone and dials. “Emily? I need a favor.” He listens for a moment, then relaxes. “You’ve seen the news?... Yeah, I want to take Lila away for a bit... A week, maybe two. ”
I can hear Emily’s warm laugh through the phone. “Go,” she says. “I’ve been there. The band’s schedule is clear, and you two deserve some peace. Just keep your phone on for emergencies.”
After he hangs up, Luke pulls me close. “Now, we need to find a quiet place to lay low for a while. Where reporters would never think to look.”
“I know just the place,” I offer with a small smile. “It’s private and tucked away. We’d have to rough it a little, but it has all the necessities—and a very comfortable bed,” I add innocently.
His answering grin is anything but innocent. “When do we leave?”
“First thing tomorrow? We could pack tonight and leave early in the morning.”
Another camera flash reminds us we’re not alone. But soon we will be.
Luke gives me a quick kiss and slips back to his apartment without turning on the lights. I clean the kitchen before I pack, thinking, let them come. We can handle anything as long as we’re together.