I would never ask him to give up a dream like that. And who knows? Maybe he’ll find someone in Chicago who’s worthy of such an amazing guy.
“I’m really happy for you,” I state, nothing but pure honesty in my voice.
He motions with his head in the direction behind me. “Is he sticking around?”
I turn and spot Luke, leaning against his truck, hands in his pockets, and staring directly at us. My heart constricts when I think about him leaving. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about anything yet.” I look back at Mason. “But I think he loves me.”
“I know he loves you,” he says, tilting his head with a smirk as the heat burns my cheeks.
I give Mason a hug goodbye, wishing him luck, and threatening to remove his manhood if he doesn’t stay in touch.
Luke pushes off his truck when I approach and wraps his arms around me. His lips brush against the shell of my ear. “What was that about?”
I close my eyes, pulling him closer, ducking my head under his chin.
Don’t leave me.
“He’s moving to Chicago. He wanted to say goodbye.”
“Was he good to you?”
I look up at him, running my finger along his jaw as his amber eyes study me. “Yeah. He was a really good friend.”
“Good.” He presses his lips against the top of my head, breathing me in.
“Come home with me?” I ask, and maybe it shouldn’t be there, but the worry, the fear of him leaving floods my voice with doubt.
His finger lifts my chin. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” I answer, immediately, adamantly, and so fucking sure, it’s as if he just asked me if I wanted to continue breathing.
His lips press against mine, smooth and full, answering my yes with a kiss that melts away everything that doesn’t matter, that whispers the answer to Mason’s question against my mouth.
He’s staying.
***
Luke’s waiting for me outside my apartment door, his back leaning against it, and I know he’s smirking when he sees me step onto the landing. Even in the darkness, I know.
“You beat me.” I insert my key into the top lock, clicking the latch open, as my mouth stretches into a yawn. I work my way down the five deadbolts as his body presses to my back.
“Tired?” he asks against my hair, placing his hand on top of mine and twisting the doorknob.
I break into a squeal when he spins me around and lifts me, securing my legs around his waist.
I smile against his lips, giggling, as his foot kicks the door closed. “Not anymore.”
“What you did for my dad,” he says, and my smile disappears as quickly as it came on. I’m tempted to squirm free of his hold, beat him to my bedroom, and lock myself away until he forgets all about my ballsy attempt to help him.
“I’m sor—”
He silences me with a finger to my lips. “He’s sober. I don’t know if it’ll last, and if it doesn’t, you will not see him like that. If I have to go get him, I do that alone.”
“You’re never doing anything alone again.” I draw his face closer to mine as he stops dead in the hallway, his shoulders lifting with tension. “If you have to go deal with him, you can go, but I will know where you’re going. No more leaving me in the middle of the night and not telling me why.”
“I don’t want you affected by this.”
“Well, too fucking bad.”
His laugh warms my face before he drops his head against mine. “It’s ugly, Tessa. I don’t like who I become when I deal with him.”
I unhook my legs from around his waist and slide down to my feet. “You think I won’t like it?” I ask, reaching up and flattening my hand over his chest.
He grabs the back of my neck, his other hand gripping my hip, sealing our bodies together again. “I. Can’t. Lose. You.” The emphasis he puts on those four words wrecks me, his honestly staggering. This is it. This is why he keeps me out.
“If this is too much for you, and you pull away from me…” His eyes close on a heavy blink. “Tessa, you’re the only thing that keeps me still.”
I mold my hand to his cheek, the weight of his head falling into my palm. “I’m not going anywhere. Your dad may stay sober; he may not. If he doesn’t, we’ll deal with it together. No more doing this alone.”
I see the struggle in his eyes, the battle he’s waging against himself.
I turn his head and move my lips over his ear. “Let me in, Luke. I’ll make it so good for you.”
His hands tighten on my body, rooting into my skin.
I drop back onto my heels, nearly stumbling at the sight of his tongue teasing his bottom lip. “Are you trying to bait me with sex to get me to agree to this?” he asks, his tone firm, but he can’t hide the playful glint in his eye.
I step out of his grasp, tugging at the top button of my blouse. “I’ll use whatever means necessary to get what I want.” I pop the next button. “And I want you.” Pop. “All. Of. You. Every inch.” I hold the last button between my fingers, waiting for him to make his move.
He pulls at his belt, snapping it off and tossing it onto the floor. “What do you want to do with all of me?” he asks, moving his hands to his shorts.
My blouse falls to the floor, and his gaze drops, widening at the sight of my breasts. “Love you.” I wait for his eyes to reach mine. It happens immediately. “Is that okay with you?”
“Fuck yeah, it is.” Fabric rustles as he lowers his shorts, but I can’t look anywhere but his eyes right now, the hungry shift in them pinning me in place, and willing my fingers to snap open the button of my jeans. His forearm flexes, and that gets my attention immediately, because I know exactly what’s causing those beautiful muscles in his arm to roll.
He’s working his cock at a painfully slow pace. Pulling the skin, teasing the head with a slide of this thumb. “Take them off,” he orders, dropping a nod as he stares at my waist.
“You take them off.”
“Are you going to work this for me?” he asks, his hand stagnant on his cock.
“Depends,” I run my finger over the seam of my jeans, teasing my pussy.
“Fuck,” he groans.
“Me,” I add, and he moves like lightning, forcing me with two firm hands on my waist down the hallway. My back hits the bed and his hands rip my jeans off in one swift motion.
He pumps his cock while his eyes burn down my body, leaving scorch marks on my skin. His gaze stops abruptly at my left hip, just above my panty line, and he hauls my body closer with a firm hand on my thigh.
“Tessa, did you…” His finger runs over the sensitive skin, tracing the letter. The script, matching my initial on him perfectly, but twisted into the shape of an L. He doesn’t look up at me, which I’m expecting. Instead his tongue wets his lips, and he presses them into my tattoo.
“Luke,” I pant, arching off the bed, forcing a firmer seal of his mouth on my body.
“Flip,” he orders with a hand on my waist, moving me himself before my body agrees to it.
Not that it wouldn’t. I know exactly what he wants to do, and my thighs are practically trembling just thinking about it.