Jaded (23 page)

With one hand he cupped a breast, alternately tweaking and rubbing her nipple, and with the other, he swirled circles around her clitoris, teasing her to the brink of hysteria.

“It’ll all be worth it in the end, I swear,” he murmured. Then, without warning, he plunged himself deep inside, moved himself against her, and pulled it out.

She screamed. “
God
! I can’t take it!”

The frazzled look on his face told her it had been a challenge for him to pull out like he had. She could feel the tip of him just above her womanhood. White-hot passion screamed through her veins, and she felt like she would do anything to get him inside her again, like she might combust if he didn’t give it to her.

He kissed her again and inserted himself, slowly, so that she could feel every inch of it entering her. She threw her head back and moaned, low and loud. He was going insanely slow, and she could see the toll this was taking. His hands gripped the countertop beside her, knuckles almost white with his intensity. When he finally reached the deepest point, she clenched herself around him and arched her back.

He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her close to him. Isabella moved against him, arching her pelvis up, then back, up, then back, loving the subtle pressure this created inside her, tightening her muscles around him as much as she could.

When she released her muscles, he shot her a look that said the games were over. He grabbed her rear end with both hands, squeezing hard and firm. “Babe,” he said, breath jagged. “You want it hard now?”

“Please,” she breathed, feeling like she would die from the anticipation. She let her head fall back as his lips descended upon her neck, flurries of kisses falling all over.

“Me too.” With one last wet kiss, he pumped into her hard, over and over, at just the pace she craved. She clung to him as he went deeper with each thrust. Her breath came out in shallow pants, bordering on screams.

Something about their union this time felt different—sexually charged in a way that she had never experienced, yet more real, more honest, than any connection she’d had with other men. It was perfection. Utter perfection. She was blind to everything except the feel of him pumping in and out, driving her toward a sinfully explosive climax. His breath came out in short bursts at her ear, sweat forming slick lines down his neck and the sides of his face. His hands cupped the soft roundness of her backside and he jerked his head to one side to toss some locks of hair out of his eyes.

Isabella felt herself getting close to the edge. Luke’s dark gaze was set on her, and she saw that he was close too. She clenched her legs more tightly around him, wanting to feel him inside her, thrusting and pumping and pounding his way to climax, forever, but knew that she couldn’t last that long, much less another five minutes.

“Luke, I’m so close,” she moaned, voice edged with desperation. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

His pace increased, and with one last cry of pleasure, she let herself fall over the edge. Her muscles contracted around him in waves, and she felt him explode within her. Her release was blinding, and her toes curled as she rode the waves of her climax. His pumping receded slowly and she sighed deeply as they drained their orgasm of every ounce of pleasure. She felt dizzy with satisfaction and collapsed into his arms, completely exhausted.

Luke struggled to regain his breath as he wrapped his arms around her and held her. He placed butterfly kisses across her neck, dragging his fingers up and down her spine. She realized at that moment that she wanted Luke for her own. Permanently and without hesitation. She didn’t want to deny him any longer; she didn’t want to pretend as though her heart wasn’t aching for him. If it was right, it was right.

And Isabella knew this was right.

She savored the feel of his warm, hard body against hers. She sighed, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

“That was pretty intense,” Luke whispered, finally slipping himself out of her. She laughed feebly—intense didn’t even come close. Her womanhood throbbed with satisfaction, the remnants of her orgasm still meandering pleasantly through every inch of her body.

“Maybe we should go on dates more often,” was all she could think to say. Her voice cracked and she felt drugged. She’d never experienced orgasms so
powerful
before. But that was Luke. The man was like a drug, intense, passionate, always leaving her wanting more of him, anything he could give to her.

He stroked her hair gently and hummed a soft tune. She leaned into his chest and smiled hard, unable to deny the truth any longer.

She’d fallen in love.

And this time, it didn’t scare her.

***

Luke and Isabella had relocated to her bedroom upstairs, minds now clear enough to climb the ladder safely.

“I do miss the staircase,” Isabella said with a sigh, hopping off the ladder and onto the second story floor. “But I suppose the inconvenience is worth it. Otherwise, we might not have gotten to experience my new countertops.”

“In that case, thank god the materials were on backorder,” he said, taking her hand in his. He realized he was still fully clothed—their impatience had only allowed time to get Isabella undressed. Like he could be expected to concentrate on anything else when she was naked and glowing in front of him. He felt his brain haze over again at the thought of her, even while standing before her. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. The woman was a goddess. Luke followed her into her bedroom and, without a word, they crawled onto the bed. She was immediately in his arms, face buried in his neck, planting small kisses on his damp skin.

He sighed deeply, trying and failing to remember a time when he’d felt so good, so content. He could have fallen asleep, if it weren’t for the feel of her hot nakedness pressed against him, keeping his mind alert.

“What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” he asked lazily, making a mental note of how perfectly she fit in his arms.

“Your pancakes,” she said. “With lots of blueberries.”

“And what about dinner?”

“You.”

He laughed. “I hope your appetite is big enough for what I have on the menu.”

“Don’t worry about me, baby. I’ve got a good metabolism; I’m always hungry for you.”

Luke kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, same here.”

A pleasant silence settled between them.

“I want you to spend the night at my house,” he said finally.

She paused. “You do?”

“Yes. I want you to see where I live. Go look through all my stuff. Check out the medicine cabinet. Maybe you can leave a toothbrush and a bra there too.”

She laughed, looking up at him. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and he was surprised by the emotion welling in his throat.

“I’d love to. Maybe I’ll leave a couple tampons too. If you’re lucky.”

“Oh, man, could a guy be so lucky?”

“I guess we’ll find out.” She nuzzled her face into his chest once more, hugging him close.

Luke sighed again, mind racing as he contemplated the meaning of what he’d said to her. That was definitely the first time he’d ever said anything like that. And he hadn’t even thought about it; the words had just fallen from his lips. It was so natural with her, almost no thought was required. He was thrilled but also confused by the way it was all unfolding. He had never expected this. Never, ever, ever. And good lord, it was happening before him, unfolding like some perfectly constructed puzzle, and he knew exactly where each piece went without even trying.

“You’re amazing,” she murmured sleepily, her fingers tangling themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck. Goosebumps erupted all over his body.

“Oh, come on. We have so much left to explore,” he said, placing a kiss atop her head. “Don’t say that until you’ve seen
everything
I can do.”

She laughed softly. “I can’t wait.”

His mind continued buzzing with activity, struggling to make sense of it all. Truly, for the first time in his life, he felt at complete ease. He was in the presence of a woman, in the aftermath of an orgasm, and he didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to stop talking to her, didn’t even feel compelled to feed her a line just to make sure she was still interested in him. The difference between what he was feeling now and what had always been his norm, his expectations of women, was so enormous he felt like screaming, like crumpling into a heap at her feet and spilling it all.

And it had always been like that with Isabella. She exposed the real Luke, the man inside him that he’d been ashamed, and too afraid, to reveal, always thinking that the world had no place for that man. His status quo had worked, so why bother changing it? Isabella had shown him that there was an immense reward in reawakening that part of himself, of finally expressing all of himself. He couldn’t get over it. He made a point to think on this more, when he was ready to really reflect and find the words to say to her, and then he would thank her. Profusely, and from the deepest part of his heart.

But the bet...
A flash of hot guilt and anger sizzled beneath his skin and for a moment he felt dizzy.
The fucking bet.
What could he say now? He’d waited too long, let too much happen between them.
Tomorrow, Luke. Do it tomorrow. That’s final.
It didn’t matter if he had the words or not, he was going to tell her the next day. And he just prayed to god that their connection would be able to withstand the unsavory news. He had an inkling that Isabella would be upset but that he’d be able to explain to her exactly why he’d done what he’d done. She was smart and compassionate—Luke was confident that she’d be able to see his side.

Somewhere between deciding Isabella was the hardest bet ever and having mind-boggling sex with her, he’d fallen in love.

He smiled, pulling her closer.

He was in love.
Fucking incredible.

He’d never let go of her now. She had to feel it too. He knew she felt it, could sense it in every cell of his body.

He tipped her head back to look into her eyes again. She blinked a few times and smiled. Her deep, green eyes sparkled, reflecting back to him his very thoughts.

‘I love you’ started running through his mind, begging to be spoken. His heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt suddenly clammy. He’d never told a girl he loved her—he never even lied to a girl and told her that.

He opened his mouth to speak but was suddenly nervous, afraid that maybe it wasn’t the right time. This was huge, and maybe too fast. He’d tell her soon enough, he knew. He felt like he had all the time in the world now. He kissed her gently, tracing her jaw line with a finger.

He was in love, and he couldn’t wait to begin exploring their future together.

Chapter Twelve

Isabella awoke the next morning in an impenetrable good mood.

A light breeze danced across her cheek and the sun shone through her canopy, casting shimmery designs on her bedspread. Within moments of waking, she was humming to herself, feeling high on the happiness swirling through every limb and into the deepest reaches of her heart. Thoughts of Luke and their night drifted through her mind, imprinting a smile on her face. It was the most beautiful morning a girl could wake up to. She caught a whiff of pancakes from downstairs and could hear the muted noises of workers tromping through her house.

She yawned, preparing herself to get out of bed and go about her day. She wished he had stayed the night, but he’d gone home in the early hours of the morning so he could get ready for work, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and the words, “I’ll see you soon, babe, and I can’t wait until I do.”

She rolled onto her side and contemplated the empty spot next to her. Luke was fantastic. He was beyond fantastic. He was utterly unlike any other man she’d fallen for. And she couldn’t wait to see what life had in store for them.

She rolled out of bed and pulled on a loose T-shirt and a pair of leggings, catching a hint of Luke’s scent still clinging to her skin. She went downstairs and was greeted by the hustle and bustle of the construction team: saws whirring, the smell of lumber in the air, and pieces of a staircase littering the foyer. She smiled, loving it all.

“Morning,” she said as a worker named Mark walked by.

“Morning, Miss Isabella.” He winked. “Luke’s gone already, but he told me to tell you he left breakfast for you in the kitchen.”

“Great. Thank you.” She smiled at him and drifted into the kitchen, the smell of pancakes growing stronger the nearer she got. At the table, her breakfast was waiting, complete with silverware, a small bowl with a pat of butter in it, and syrup. She sat down, unable to remove the smile from her face as she laid the napkin across her lap. A note was by the plate.

Hey babe, I had to run to the lumber shop, but enjoy your breakfast and I’ll see you soon. I miss you already!!!! And I think you’re beautiful.

She folded the note in half and tucked it into her pocket. It would be added to her box of important documents, where the other note Luke had left her already resided.

She slowly enjoyed her breakfast, loving that each bite had been delicately prepared for her by Luke as she slept. She wondered if he’d done it eagerly, anticipating her reaction, wanting to nourish her and share his talents with her. Her mind spun with giddy contentment. The man was incredible.

Mark walked into the kitchen, interrupting her reverie as he cleared his throat. She looked over at him. “Hey again!”

He gestured to the chair. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Of course not. Please.”

He sat down and looked at her softly. She hadn’t noticed him much before; he usually kept to himself, and what she knew of him was limited to his name and the fact that Luke had expressed some vague distaste. No reasons or details had ever been explained. She offered him a smile.

“How’s work going today?”

“Pretty good. Thanks for asking.” He averted his eyes, rubbing his tongue back and forth over his bottom lip. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked much, but I feel like I know you. I mean, we’ve been working on your house for all this time, you know? It’s like your home is mine, or something.”