Be Mine (12 page)

"Oh crap," she muttered. She didn't want Luke to see this. Neither did she want him to think this was some ploy for him to stay. They kissed, they fucked. End of story.

"Let me up," she mumbled, refusing to look at him. He didn't budge. She pushed against his chest, but he kept her in his embrace.

"No." His deep voice thrummed against her body, sending a gentle crest of need through her.

"Please, oohh." Gracie closed her eyes when his cock twitched inside her.

Luke used his thumb to wipe away her tears.

"No, Gracie. I want you in my arms. I'll hold you. I'll keep you. I'll make you forget whatever it is you're running away from."

"Don't." She took a huge breath. "I don't want to cry. I don't want you to see me cry."

"Then stay in my arms, and I'll make you smile."

Gracie's eyes flew to his, and she saw the truth of his words.

Luke's hips nudged her. Her eyes widened. He gave her a mischievous grin. His cock twitched again inside her. Her mouth lifted in a reluctant smile. Her vaginal muscles clamped back. He growled. They were facing each other, their breaths becoming harsh with their carnal need.

"Put your leg over my waist," Luke commanded.

Gracie did as she was told, sucking in her breath when Luke pitched his hips to sink deeper into her.

"I want you to look at me when I fuck you hard."

She exhaled between a breath and a sigh, his words stoking the fire inside her again. He plunged in slowly, causing delicious quivers inside her vagina. Her lips parted as her eyes lowered to half-mast.

"Gracie," Luke warned even as he upped the pace of his thrusts.

"I can't help it," she whimpered, her words like staccato bursts that followed the rhythm of his cock driving in and out of her.

"C'mon, baby," he coaxed her as he continued to stroke in and out of her, licking and sucking on her lips, his voice hoarse. "Yes, you can. I want to see you come." He pitched into her and Gracie felt herself being pulled into the whirlpool Luke made, and she wasn't sure if she would come out alive. When Luke dipped his mouth to take her nipple, she felt her lust flow around him.

"Yes, that's it. Damn, Gracie, you feel so good," Luke groaned as he kissed her face, then captured her mouth.

Luke's voice seemed to come from afar. Gracie's entire being was wrapped in Luke possessing her, giving her what she craved. Every pore in her body felt electrified. Her breath hitched at the sight of Luke's eyes dilating with lust. Her breath came in gasps, feeling her core's muscles tightening with her need that when it erupted from her, it caught her unawares, and she gave out small cries until she screamed.

"Oohh…God! Yes!"

Her body trembled at the onslaught, her back arching at the exquisite desire that suffused her. Her cries tumbled from her lips over and over again until with one powerful thrust, Luke groaned his release.

"Gracie!" He emptied himself into her, groaning afterwards as he continued to thrust into her welcoming channel. Gracie felt the warmth of his seed coating her, her muscles milking him for more.

He shuddered beside her. His eyes closed, he kissed her face until his mouth found hers. He plundered its inner recesses tenderly, swallowing Gracie's whimpers, moving on to kiss her eyes, her nose, before coming back for more of her lips. Neither said a word. None was needed. Their hands caressed each other's bodies, their touch the language used for words unsaid, their sighs, and satisfied breaths the measure of their afterglow.

"Sleep, Gracie." Luke's voice was deep and sure. "You're safe with me."

L
uke switched the engine off before turning to Gracie. Stubble powdered his angular jaw that she had caressed the previous night. She took her house key from her purse and was about to open the door when Luke stopped her. He leaned towards her and took her mouth in his. She couldn't get enough of him. She held on tightly, fisting her hands in his shirt, wanting to be a part of his skin as his tongue swept against hers. There it was again, that heady feeling of being pulled into Luke and feeling lust start to ride in her veins. She felt herself getting wet again even after he had taken her on the kitchen counter.

Breakfast had been forgotten.

What the bloody hell am I doing?

Gracie asked herself for the hundredth time, yet all of her reservations the day before were washed away by Luke's touch. She had never felt that kind of ecstasy the way she had with him. Everything seemed new again. Feeling, seeing, touching. She relished touching him with a new found awareness. The doubts that plagued her remained, and Gracie knew she had to let go of them. The question was whether she really wanted to. The doubts that Jonathan had implanted in her mind had become so much a part of her it felt like an extension of a limb. Were the feelings of inadequacy really a part of her that she couldn't remove?

Or was it because she didn't want to let it go?

What she had with Luke for just one night was special, and she knew it down to the marrow of her bones. She didn't know how she would feel once it ended. Because in spite of her refusal of being labelled his weekender, Gracie had become the very thing she disdained.

Soon he ended the kiss, touching his forehead against hers. She smiled against his mouth, giving him one last brush of her lips that rewarded her with a low rumble from his chest. Their breaths mingled, keeping her warm against the cold she knew would greet her once she stepped outside.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay. I can't get enough of you." He brushed his nose against her jaw, sending ripples of bliss through her, tempting her to give in. God knew that she had already given in. The ebullience of youth, something Gracie didn't have in spades anymore.

"I have to go." She felt Luke stiffen, but she just didn't want to hope for more than what they had the night before. It was Sunday and while it was still the weekend, Gracie couldn't allow herself to think that there was something more. "Thank you. I had a wonderful time."

"I'm coming back," he said in a voice that brooked no argument. "Don't stop me from seeing you."

"This is a free country, Luke," she joked, though her heart beat erratically.
It's still Sunday. It's still Sunday.
"You can do whatever you want."

"Does that mean I can do anything to your body so you can come so many times, you'd be hoarse, and I'll turn deaf?" His eyes darkened, and desire was melted chocolate inside Gracie, sucking her in.

Again.

She laughed softly. "I said the country, Mr. Bryce. Not my body." On impulse, she gave him a hard kiss before opening the door.

He grabbed her arm as she was about to step out. "I'll be back later. That's a promise."

She gave him a smile that didn't exactly reach her eyes. "I don't believe in promises anymore, Luke. But thanks." Gracie felt his eyes at her back, but she continued walking to her door. He didn't screech the wheels as he left and neither did he slowly back up from the drive behind her car. He didn't wait for her to look back to watch him go either.

It was better that way.

"Gracie."

She turned sideways. Noreen was in her robe with a mug of what she knew was good coffee. Her mouth salivated.

"Come on over and have coffee with me. I know you're dying for one," she said, grinning.

"You're a life saver," Gracie breathed, making a detour to her house.

Noreen's house was as eclectic and fun as she was. Vibrant throw pillows sat in a row on her couch and on the rug in front of the fireplace she hardly used. There was a mirror in the vestibule with tiny glass balls embedded in the frame. Gracie's wellies thudded dully on the sanded floorboards along the hallways until they became silent inside the kitchen's mosaic tiles. She sat on one of the stools by the dining table that often doubled as Noreen's desk. She forgot to stifle her groan when she sat, her body finally telling her that it needed some chill time.

"Must have been some night," Noreen said dryly while getting a mug from the cupboard overhead. There was a tiny clink when the percolator brushed against the mug before the aroma of the dark liquid mixed with the air.

Gracie sighed, about to deny it but thought against it. "Yes, it was." She reached for the proffered mug. "Thanks."

"And?" Noreen sat opposite her.

"And what? No. No way am I going to tell you anything." Gracie shook her head. "I'm not a fan of TMI."

Her friend laughed. "No, I didn't think you were." She paused, her face softening. "I'm happy for you, though. You deserve to move on, Gracie. Jonathan's memory shouldn't keep you tied."

"I know. I've told myself that so many times."

"So what's stopping you?" Noreen placed both hands around her mug. "It's not like you owe him any faithfulness when his own faithfulness was non-existent in the first place."

Gracie kept silent, looking down at her coffee.

Noreen reached for her hand across the table. "It's okay to be scared, Gracie."

"Funny thing is I'd rather be alone than go through all of that again. And I've got Flynn."

"Flynn will like Luke."

"You've only met him at the fair and you already like him."

"Keep your brows to your forehead, Mrs. Sinclair, don’t use them like a headband."

Gracie rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Noreen. You can't be serious."

"Okay, okay. Maybe I'm a bit hasty, but damn, girl. The way that man looked at you. He's the kind of man who'd devour you and you’d come back asking for more."

Gracie reddened. Noreen squealed.

"Well, fuck me till I'm blue," Noreen breathed, her shoulders shaking. "No wonder you winced when you sat down."

"Noreen!"

"Hell, girl, we're not innocents anymore."

Gracie groaned. This was a side of Noreen she rarely saw. "Let's drop it. How did the fair go? Did you find out exactly when the next fair was going to be?" Gracie stressed the word exactly.

"Okay, you caught me," Noreen replied unabashedly. "Come on, the sexual tension between the two of you was about to snap. You both needed to get out of there. And the fair is going to be the second Saturday of next month. So," she took a sip from her mug, "are you seeing Mr. Bryce again?"

"I don't know. I'm way out of my league here, Noreen. It's been some time since I entered the dating world and that didn't end well." Gracie ran her finger pads along the ridges of her glazed mug. "He said he was coming back—"

"When?"

"Later but—"

"Damn, he is fast," Noreen breathed.

"You don't need to sound as though you respect him for it," Gracie remarked.

Her friend shrugged. "Really? I mean, there's so much hemming and hawing between the sexes, everyone's looking either like a two man crosscut saw or a seesaw."

"Really. Like that's not happening to you and Jerome."

Noreen waved her had dismissively. "He comes and goes. We fuck. End of story."

"Hasn't he asked you for more than just a good screwing?"

"He has," Noreen said after sipping from her mug. "I'm not ready. At the moment I love my pottery business more. I'll get there someday. You know, wanting to ease off a bit."

They fell into a comfortable silence until they heard the rain splat against the stained glass window over the kitchen sink, and they both groaned.

"I better go back to the house before it becomes a downpour." Gracie stood, her stool scraping the wooden floor. "Hey, come over and have breakfast with us. You've made me coffee, I'll make you breakfast."

Noreen reached for Gracie's mug before putting the crockery in the sink. "What are you having?"

"Waffles and sausages. It's Sunday."

"Got any vegetarian?"

"Yup." Gracie grinned. "Have them in the eventuality you felt too lazy to cook and raided the neighbour’s fridge."

Noreen snorted.

Gracie laughed. "I love you too. See you in a bit."

T
he sound of a key being inserted into a lock echoed through the empty flat before the soft swish of the door signalled an entry.

Luke dropped his keys on the breakfast counter and bent down to get the post. He crossed the spacious living room while perusing the letters before dumping them on the dining table. He walked to one of the windows to look out at the canal below. Loft living was good. He had half of the floor of a converted warehouse all to himself and liked the privacy it afforded him. There were eight tenants in total in the building, each with their own personal haven. They hardly saw each other, all of them owners of their own businesses. Every once in a while they met up to talk about the building's upkeep. Had a few drinks. But everyone respected each other’s privacy. Pricks actually, arrogant know-it-alls.

Just like him. That was why they got along so well.

His phone rang.

"Barry."

"Mate, the injunction will come to effect on Monday so—"

"Not good enough."

"Even if you have the magistrates or judge in your pocket, mortals need their weekends. Give me a few hundred grand, and I'll make the Council sing for you and the judge can become your personal chef.”

Luke sighed at his friend's joke. He hardly resorted to bribery but neither was averse to using it as a last ditch effort. He didn't want to have anything to do with Cilla at all. "Thanks, Barry. I'll be careful." He waited for his friend to speak. "What now?"

"After being arrested and placed in custody, Cilla was released even before the ink in the charge sheet dried."

"I'm sure you're going to tell me who posted bail."

"Yes." Barry's voice was grim. "And more."

An hour later, Luke was still staring at the skyline before his gaze drifted to the murky waters of the canal. A swirling miasma covered what really lay underneath. Barry's call had ended half an hour before but what his solicitor told him left him cold. A vein pulsed at his temple. He was furious.

He needed to uncoil, needed to blow off steam.

He needed Gracie.

The thought of wanting her beside him during a time of anger sent him reeling, making him step back at the realization. It wasn't because he wanted to lash out at someone. No, he wanted Gracie because she was the only woman who'd be able to calm him down.

God, he needed her, but he had no intention of appearing on her doorstep with all of the aggression about to blow from inside of him.

He stalked to his bedroom and changed into gym clothes. Briskly heading back out, he got his keys and left his flat. He took to the stairs, almost jumping down several flights until he almost collided with someone.

"What the fuck...?"

"Shit! Cray! Sorry, mate, am in a rush."

"Bryce, you look like the devil's after you," the man said, his initial irritation slowly giving way to a grin, though his eyes looked wary, sharply gauging.

"Yeah, mate. We always have demons." Luke nodded. "Catch you later, if you're around."

"You're headed for the gym by the looks of it," Cray said. "See you in ten."

An hour later, Luke was sweating buckets, pummelling the punching bag, knowing that his knuckles inside the gloves would hurt the moment he flexed them after his workout. When his last punch became wimpy, he stopped, leaning on the bag to get his breath before straggling towards the water cooler. The air conditioning of the gym slowly licked the sweat from his skin, entering his oxygen starved lungs. He turned at the movement, sparing Oliver Cray a glance before drinking further. Dark hair that was almost black, assessing green eyes, he had the face of an assassin. At least that was what Luke thought. Soldier? SAS? Royal Marine maybe? Luke had no clue, but he sure as hell wouldn't want to be on the man's bad side. A scar ran diagonally across his neck, starting from the right side of his earlobe to the left side of his throat where his neck and collarbone met. How he survived was anyone's guess, but Luke knew he wasn't a man to be trifled with.

Oliver wiped the back of his neck with a towel. "Got it out of your system?"

Luke nodded, waiting for his heart rate to normalize.

"Your hands are going to hurt like a—"

Luke glared.

Oliver cocked his brow. "What's got into you?"

"What's with the third degree?" Luke shot back.

"Believe me, that's no third degree." Oliver laughed, amused. "We were talking demons earlier."

"I'm cool, mate," Luke replied. "Surprised you're up for a gab. Appreciate the gesture."

Oliver shrugged. "Loft management can be boring. I wanted to see if any of you had more between the ears than that."

Luke bristled. "Yeah, that goes for you as well."

"Didn't say I wasn't part of it," Oliver said, nodding. "I'm staying for about a week or so before I head out."

"Where to this time?" Luke faced him, hand on hips. Good, he wasn't breathing as hard as before. Time to get ready to return to Gracie.

"It depends. I'll go where my money takes me." Oliver winked before walking backwards and pivoting to walk towards the gym's doors. "Let's grab a pint soon."

Luke didn't bother to reply, his mind already on what he had to do. What Barry told him earlier still angered him, but he was much calmer now. He took the lift to his flat, a smile finally settling on his mouth.

The weekend wasn't over. He was going to make the most out of it. He was going to make the most out of the week and the next weekend.

And the next.

He was going to make Gracie his.

He returned to his loft, allowing the door to close behind him. Crossing the spacious living room, he entered his bedroom and headed for the bathroom. Shedding his clothes, he turned the tap and waited for the steam to rise before stepping in. He hissed in pain, already feeling the punishment he gave his fists, though groaned in satisfaction as the heated blades of water pelted his sore body and sensitive shaft. Pain and pleasure. Could be a bloody fine combination. He smelled something. Gracie's perfume, as though it planted itself inside his nostrils. Nothing would ever remove his Gracie from his skin. He lips twitched at the revelation.

His Gracie.

The thought of her soft body yielding against his made him hard again. Gracie was the only woman who stirred him, who got deeper than anyone he'd ever known.

Who held his very soul in her hands.

It wasn't just her body that enthralled him. It was who she was. He didn't know how he knew this in just a short span of time. Neither was it rational thinking. He just knew. Just like he knew that he had fallen for her as she drove off away from him, from the dark street in the Northern Quarter.

He froze. Yes, he was in love with her, wasn’t he?
That's the sex talking.
His mind argued. But the niggling was there, that what he and Gracie had was something more. Gracie had invaded his heart where none had been able. Still, she was like a frightened doe. Luke could sense that even after making love to her she had retreated once again. Not as much as she used to but the hesitancy was still there.

What the hell did her husband do to her?

It didn't matter. If she wanted to run, he would let her. So that she could learn to run to him. If she fell, he would be there to catch her. If she cried, he would be there to hold her. And if she doubted, he would be there to help her see the truth. There was a fragile part of her that made him want to take her in his arms. To care for her. To love her.

To never let her go.

Luke raised his face to the water. He would now have to eat his words. He never thought that he would fall in love so easily and so quickly. He had scoffed at his friends every time they waxed lyrical about the love of their lives. Not gonna happen, he had said. He had chortled with amusement when they talked about their wives as though they would literally kiss the ground beneath their feet. Pussy-whipped wankers. That was what he had called them. They warned him that when his turn came, they'd welcome him to the club.

That time had arrived.

He chuckled as he cleaned himself. Funny thing was that he didn't mind at all. Gracie ignited a spark inside him, and he was beginning to see things from a different perspective. The lethargy that made him wish Friday was over had disappeared, replaced by a renewed sense of energy to enjoy the time away from work so that he could be with Gracie. He felt it in his bones and in the very centre of his being. Gracie was the woman for him. The woman he wanted to be there for him. The woman who would help keep his own demons at bay. He promised that if this relationship went to where he wanted it to go, he would do good by her. He would spend each and every day with her.

To woo her and to make her his.

If she would have him.

If the sex they had was anything to go by, he doubted if she'd stay away for long. Arrogant prick, wasn't he? He was probably selfish, but he intended to pleasure her until her walls broke down. He would indulge her until she cried uncle. He was definitely not going anywhere. He had found his true north in Gracie.

He had just put on a pair of jeans when he heard the doorbell ring. Bare-chested and with the waistband button of his denims left opened, he grabbed his wrist watch and placed it on before opening the door.

"Hmmm, you smell good, babe," she said appreciatively, inhaling his scent. She planted an open mouthed kiss on Luke's mouth, darting inside to tease his tongue to play. Luke stopped the arms about to entwine around his neck before gently pulling away.

"What are you doing here, Cilla?" He was going to skin the concierge alive for allowing her to come in. It wasn't the concierge's fault, was it? He had fucked Cilla on two weekends and he knew how she could tie a man around her little finger. Beefing up the property's security was so going to be on the agenda during the next residents’ meeting.

"Someone was kind hearted enough to bail me out." She breezed through, making a beeline for the kitchen counter before leaning against it.

He turned his back to her to furtively wipe his mouth. He noted the low bodice of her blouse that pushed her cosmetically enhanced breasts together. He knew who bailed her out and he had to rein in his temper.

"Really? That was kind of them." Sarcasm dripped like the droplets from his wet hair. Luke switched the kettle on, not bothering to look at her. He checked his watch. He wanted to get back to Gracie as soon as he could. "What are you doing here?"

"It's the last day of the weekend. I'm really sorry I behaved like a bitch yesterday. Forgive me?"

Luke continued to take out a mug from the cupboard overhead before taking out the milk from the fridge.

"I tried calling you, but I only got your voicemail. I came here earlier, you know. Where were you?" she drawled as she leaned over the breakfast counter. Her arms squeezed her breasts together, deepening her cleavage.

Luke shook his head and turned to face her with his arms folded across his chest.

"Careful, Cilla. I don't want the silicone in them tits to spill onto the counter."

"Aww, c'mon." She pouted, moving around the breakfast counter to press her body against his. "I missed you." Cilla placed her palms against his chest, rubbing them against his nipples. She smiled when his nipples stood.

Luke took her hands and placed them by her side. When she protested, he firmly kept them there.

"Luke..."

"You know this was never a permanent thing." The coldness of his voice was unmistakable.

"But we can make it permanent," Cilla said in a little girl's voice that crawled on Luke's nerves. She shimmied her hips against his crotch. "I want to make it permanent."

"I don't."

Cilla looked as though she had been slapped. The look on her face, priceless. Luke's mouth lifted in an apologetic smile that didn't reach his eyes. He took a strand of hair that fell by the side of her face to tuck it behind her ear, but Gracie's face suddenly floated in his mind's eye that he let go. This was the end of his fuckship with Cilla. He needed to make her understand that.

*  *  *

Cilla stepped back and moved away. She kept her back so straight that she felt the strain could probably snap her spine in half. She trembled in consternation. No. She shook in fury. Who was the cunt who took Luke away from her? Her life had never been so good the past two weeks since she hooked up with Luke. Good in bed, generous in gifts. She needed Luke to get her fix as well. Her coke supply was close to nil, and she borrowed a little from her supplier saying that she was good for it. After all, she had never missed a payment in the past, but the supplier would not wait for long. She gave her supplier sexual favours but later on that wouldn't be enough. Her supplier would want his pound of flesh, to get paid not laid, and Cilla knew that he could be cruel enough to carve it out of her. Literally. All those times that she had asked Luke for money for shopping she had stocked up on her supply while she shoplifted the bags or clothes she said she bought. She was very good at shoplifting, learning from the best. Her aunt. When Luke made her more than his weekender she thought she had hit the jackpot. For two weeks, she had him in the palm of her hand. Just the thought of his body against hers made her ache for him. The thought of someone replacing her soured her mood. Drugs and sex. It was such a heady combination, Cilla refused to give up.