Acquisition (7 page)

She woke sometime later to a listing sensation, abruptly realizing it was because someone was carrying her. Her eyes popped open, and she glared at Luka as he dropped her on his bed. “I was fine on the floor.”

He glared down at her. “You’re back where you belong, but why am I not surprised you didn’t comply without difficulty?”

She started to scramble up, trying to scoot out of his way as he laid on the bed beside and atop her. She swallowed a thick lump in her throat when she realized he was wearing absolutely nothing. It was clear what his intentions were, and she was going to do her best to thwart them, but that meant also thwarting her own urges. To complicate the issue, her body suddenly roared back to life, an experience she hadn’t had in months, and certainly for no one besides the man now lying half on top of her, pinning her to the soft mattress. “Let me up.”

“Right now the baby is asleep. I checked on him, and he looks to be out for a while longer, which gives me plenty of time to do some of the things I’ve been thinking about doing all day long.”

She tried to heave him off her. “I’m not going back to your bed or back to what we had before. I don’t want you anymore, and I sure don’t want this.”

He laughed in her face. “Don’t expect me to believe that. You were always like a cat in heat, and I don’t believe that’s changed. Hell, you fucked me less than twenty-four hours after we met.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment at the reminder of how quickly she had jumped into his bed. It had been an anomaly for her, rather than the norm, but that he would throw it back in her face now made her furiously angry. Before she could think better of it, she slapped him across the cheek as hard as she could. Abby winced at the sound of her palm connecting with his flesh, and his curse followed a second later. She stilled, tempted to apologize, but wasn’t given the opportunity.

A second later, Luka grasped her wrists in his hands and pushed them to the bed, sliding his body the rest of the way over hers to pin her to the mattress. His mouth covered hers in a rough kiss, one of territorialism rather than true passion. She held out for as long as she could, hating herself even as her lips parted, and her resolve weakened. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she should have bitten it, but instead she just caressed it with her own. It had been too long since they had touched, and she craved the taste of him.

He nudged a knee between her thighs, forcing them apart so he can lie between them. She offered halfhearted resistance, bucking her hips even as she allowed him to deepen the kiss. His hands were like manacles around her wrists, keeping her confined, and her heart and mind knew this was all wrong, even as her body begged for more.

Luka’s cock pressed against the contours of her pussy, separated only by the thin fabric of her panties since her nightgown had ridden up. She tried bucking him off again, but realized she was only exciting both of them in the process. From somewhere, she drew a reserve of strength and managed to pull her mouth from his as she glared up at him. “Let go of me.”

“No.”

“I don’t want this.”

His hands tightened even more around her wrists, and he shrugged one shoulder in a careless gesture. “Right now, I don’t give a fuck what you want, Abby. I want your pussy wrapped around my cock, and that’s what I’m going to have. Don’t even pretend you aren’t wet and ready for it, because we both know that’s a lie. Your panties are soaking wet. I can feel it with my cock. You want this just as much as you ever did.”

She had intended to reject his words with her own harsh declarative, but only a small moan escaped her when he circled his hips, deliberately pressing the head of his cock deeper into her slit, where it nestled against her folds. She could feel the heat of him even through the thin cotton separating them, mingling with the pre-cum oozing from the tip, and she suddenly wanted his dick in her mouth. She had missed this so much, and she was poised on the edge of surrender.

“You’ll always be panting for me.” He thrust against her again while bending his head to kiss her once more.

Tears of shame burned in her eyes, but she didn’t try to turn away from the kiss this time. He was right. She was always ready for sex when it came to Luka. That he was treating her so despicably, yet was still able to turn her on, spoke volumes about her. She didn’t deserve respect or consideration if she couldn’t suppress her own reaction.

He removed one hand from her wrist, grasping both with his other one to keep her arms pinned above her head. The hand he allowed to slip free now wandered down her body, pausing to squeeze with surprising gentleness on her right breast. “It’s so much bigger. You always had nice breasts, but now they’re so lush and full.”

She looked away from him, not acknowledging his words, even as her body betrayed her. Her nipple hardened, and as he bent his head to trace his tongue over the tip, she let out a mingled sob and moan.

“See, Abby?” Grasping her chin as he lifted himself up, still using his body to hold hers down, he forced her to look in his direction. His gaze locked with hers as he loomed over her. “Your body’s begging for me. I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” she asked wearily, a wave of exhaustion sweeping through her from all their fighting. Even that wasn’t enough to prevent her own wanton reaction.

“Beg me to fuck you, and I will.”

She glared at him as she shook her head. “No way.”

He thrust against her again as he circled his hips, hitting the spot that always drove her wild. “Beg me.”

She shook her head, holding out as he continued torturing her sensually, first by thrusting against her a few more times, and then by slipping his fingers into the side of her underwear to seek out the heat of her slit. She moaned when he rubbed his fingers across the swollen bud, her supersensitive flesh sending shutters of arousal through her at the lightest touch. As he stroked and caressed her, pushing her toward the edge of orgasm, she could feel her resolve weakening further still, and when he brought her just to the edge, but would not allow her to slip over, she let out a sob of frustration.

“Do you want to get off, Abby?”

She nodded frantically, no longer in full possession of her faculties, lost as she was in a maelstrom of need and desire.

“You know how to make that happen. Just beg me.”

She let out a harsh breath, surrender sweeping over her. “I’m begging you to fuck me, you sadistic bastard.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. Seconds later, his fingers slipped from between her thighs, and he stood up. He looked completely unaffected, except for the rigid erectness of his cock lying almost against his belly. “Not tonight. I have a headache.”

She was pretty sure she said some unflattering things to him, though she tried not to surrender to the urge to scream as Luka calmly turned away from her, gathered up his clothes, and left the bedroom. She was mass of frustration, but what bothered her the most was the gaping hole in her soul. She couldn’t believe Luka had treated her that way, and that she had allowed it.

She had more than allowed it. She had begged for him at the end, just as he’d wanted, and then he’d refused. If this was how he planned to punish her every night, she was going to go out of her mind in no time. Somehow, she had to find a way to strengthen her defenses against Luka, and she had to discover it quickly. Otherwise, she had already lost more than the first battle in the war brewing between them. She had lost everything.

***

It was after eleven p.m., but Luka was certain Dominic would still be at the club. Roman would have gone home a few hours ago, not wanting to leave Sarah alone too long, especially now. He hated to do it, but he needed Roman’s advice too, so he sent his brother a text message before he started the car and headed toward the club.

He didn’t bother to see if Dominic was still at Triple Threat, because that was almost always where he was on a nightly basis. It had been the same for himself and Roman, before they had gotten involved with the women in their lives. After Abby had disappeared, and he had accepted she wasn’t coming back because she had left of her own volition, he’d fallen into the habit of returning to the club and staying late each night again.

Now, he’d have to make an effort to be home sooner and spend more time there. For Lucas, of course. The decision had nothing to do with Abby. She was only a body to him now, something to satisfy his desire and work off his need for revenge.

If that was the case, why wasn’t he buried balls’ deep in her pussy right now instead of having left her lying there to stew in her own humiliation? If he probed too deeply, he’d have to admit to himself that he had pulled away not because he wanted to torture her as she probably imagined, but because he hadn’t liked hearing her beg for anything. It had sickened him to see the naked vulnerability in her expression, coupled with the self-loathing in her eyes. He’d realized he was pushing her to the point where she might not come back, and it had forced him to walk away.

That disturbed him, because if he couldn’t stand to punish her, what was the point of keeping her? That was why he needed his brothers’ counsel, hoping they could help him decide on a sensible path.

When he stopped in front of the club, one of the valets came out to take his keys, and he nodded his thanks before slipping inside the glamorous club located in the heart of downtown. They had spent a considerable amount of time and money on perfecting the interior. It was luxurious, but still energetic, without being over-the-top tacky. There wasn’t a disco ball in sight, and he was proud of their endeavor. Until Abby, and now Lucas, the club had been one of the best parts of his life.

Now, it felt hollow and empty as he crossed the main floor and headed down the hallway to their private office. They shared the workspace, and he let himself in without knocking, throwing himself across the leather sofa.

Dominic had been standing at the tinted glass wall that looked out into the VIP room behind their office space on the other side of the building. He appeared to be studying the dancers on the floor with an enigmatic expression. He was certainly not playing Peeping Tom, of that Luka could be sure. More likely, Dominic was just surveying the partygoers and revelers while calculating in his head the amount of money tonight’s business would add to the Rinaldi coffers.

Unlike most of the Rinaldi empire, this business was strictly aboveboard. Mostly anyway. Some of the dancers in the VIP room had been rescued from the skin trade, so they didn’t have proper identification to work legally anywhere except native countries to which they didn’t want to return, but it was mostly a respectable establishment. The three brothers had pooled their time, talents, and resources to make it all happen without their father’s influence or assistance.

Dominic walked away from the glass wall across the room to sit in an armchair arranged near the sofa. “How was your trip? Did you and Peretti come to an agreement about working together?”

Luka nodded. “It was all smooth sailing, except I saw a familiar face.”

“Oh, who was that?”

“Abby Collins.”

Dominic stiffened for a moment before relaxing against the chair again. “I see. How did that make you feel?”

“‘How did they make you feel?’” mimicked Luka in a falsetto voice. “What kind of fucking question is that? It made me feel angry, of course.”

“Rightfully so. She just left without a word of explanation. At least now you know, and you can move on. Did you deal with her?”

“Deal with whom?” asked Roman as he stepped through the door and closed it behind himself. He’d clearly been prepared for bed, judging from the fact he wore jogging pants and a hoodie instead of the suit he had worn earlier in the day when they had seen each other in passing.

“Abby Collins,” said Luka as he eyed the wet bar nearby. Getting blind, stinking drunk wouldn’t solve his problems, but it might make him feel temporarily better. With a deep sigh, he heaved himself to his feet and went to fetch a bottle and three glasses, which he set carefully on the coffee table as Roman took half of the couch he had just been lounging on. He took the other half and poured himself a double, tossing it back before pouring another drink that he intended to sip more slowly.

“I was going ask how it went, but I guess it was that bad, huh?” asked Roman with sympathy in his expression.

Luka nodded as the pleasant burn of alcohol made its way down his esophagus. “She has a kid.”

“That was fast,” said Dominic in a neutral tone.

“My kid.” He looked at both of his brothers in turn, making sure they had understood what he said. “Not only did she run away when I was trying to protect her from Armstrong, but she took my kid with her.”

“Where is she now?” asked Roman.

“Hopefully six feet under. That’s how you should have dealt with her.”

Luka glared at his oldest brother, who was thirty-nine minutes his elder. “Don’t be stupid. I can’t kill her. My son is still nursing, and he needs her.”

Dominic leaned forward, stretching to reach the bottle of whiskey to pour himself a generous serving before he spoke. “Your son needs her, or you need her?”

Luka glared at him, but didn’t answer—not just because his brother was prying, because he had virtually invited him to do so by arranging this tête-à-tête. Mostly, it was because he didn’t know the answer himself.