Fill Me (18 page)

So the whole restaurant heard that. No wonder Luke is beaming.

"Yes," I say, loudly enough that he'll hear. "He can be an idiot, but he's fucking amazing in bed." I lean in closer. "Or in the shower or the car or the park or a movie theater."

I'm pretty sure she's about to faint, but she manages to hold steady as she hands me a slip of paper with her name, number, email, and--that must be a Twitter handle.

"Can you make sure my mom gets into a cab?"

She nods. "Of course. And, I have to say--you handled that very well. I would not have stood up to the pressure if it was my mom."

"Tell you what--come by my dressing room after the show and we'll talk about it."

"What!?!?!" She claps her hands together, a huge smile spreading on her face.

"I'll see you next week." I turn to leave, even over the sound of her, Daria's, squeals.

Luke offers his hand and I squeeze it. It's still so much, too much.

He may be a sex god, but he's not getting out of this so easily.

***

I stew on the ride back to the apartment. For once, Luke knows better than to ask what's wrong. It's painfully obvious.

That was a bullshit ambush.

The cab pulls up to the apartment building and I'm out the door before Luke can swipe his credit card through the machine.

"Ally, don't," he calls out from the cab.

I keep walking like I can't hear him. He'll be in the lobby soon enough, in the same tiny elevator.

My knees go weak. Being in an elevator alone with Luke would be hot as hell under any other circumstance.

I look back to the cab. He's already out, on the pavement, making his way to the building. His big, brown eyes are so damn earnest. Even in his suit he looks stronger, like he's spent the last three months at the gym, somehow improving his already perfect physique.

I press the elevator button. Faster. Come faster.

The doors of the elevator slide open and I step inside, making no attempt to hold or close the doors.

It's not like he'll reward my efforts by pressing me against the mirrored walls and ripping off my clothes.

Luke steps inside the elevator, pushing the closing doors apart. His eyes find mine. His expression is intense. Like he's angry, but I've never seen him angry. Not really.

The doors slide shut behind him, but he doesn't turn to press the button for our floor. He takes another step towards me, his eyes still on mine.

"You can't keep doing this." He moves closer, until his body is only inches from mine.

I press my back into the mirrored wall. "I told you I didn't want her at the wedding."

He shakes his head. "You refuse to talk about the wedding."

"So?" Even through my coat, the wall is hard behind me. Cold.

Luke moves closer. His crotch connects with mine. Then his chest. Then his fingers are on my neck, my chin, my cheek.

"You're killing me with this," he says.

"I know." I shrink back, but I have no room to move, to do anything but feel him pressed against me.

"I should have asked about inviting your mother."

"You think?"

He shifts his hips, pressing me against the wall. I shudder, wrapping my arms around his waist so I won't fall.

"Luke..." My voice is soft, almost helpless. I close my eyes. Maybe I can forget this is happening, forget everything but how his body feels against mine.

"I didn't mean to ambush you," he says. It's soft, but far from helpless. It's strong, demanding, like he's not going to say it again. "But I won't apologize for wanting to meet your mother."

I blink my eyes open. He's still staring at me like I'm the most interesting thing he's ever seen. My stomach flip flops. This is too much.

"You should have asked."

"I know."

I dig my fingers into the hard fabric of his blazer, until I can nearly feel the warmth of his skin underneath it. "You've barely talked to me since last time you were here." My voice is a tiny whisper.

"You've barely talked to me since the last time I was here." It's not an accusation, just a simple statement of facts.

I sink my teeth into my lip. My legs are so shaky. I have to squeeze him tighter just to stand. "But that's not like you."

He brushes his lips against my cheek. "I'm sorry."

My heart races. There's nothing I can say. Nothing that can make it easier to admit I nearly gave up on us.

"You should push the button eventually," I say.

"But the second I let you go, you're going to move away from me. Probably for a while."

I shake my head, but I can't bring myself to deny it. "You're the one... You pulled away from me." I reach for something to grab onto, something that will help me stand, but there's nothing in this whole stupid elevator. Nothing but him.

"I know," he says. He shifts back, releasing me, but his eyes stay glued to mine.

I stumble to catch my balance, trying to hold on to the slick mirrored walls.

"Did you stop loving me?" I ask.

"Of course not."

"Lose your patience?" I close my eyes like that will somehow lessen the impact of a yes.

Damn it. Just hit the fucking button. End this conversation before it steers us off a cliff.

"Maybe," he says.

Luke presses the button for our floor and the elevator starts to rise. He turns back to me, his eyes passing over me. It's not sexual. It's more like he's a doctor checking to make sure I have no obvious signs of illness.

"Ally, I'm... I should have." He runs his hand through his hair. "I don't mean it like that."

Yeah right.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I step into the hallway, power walk to the door, and shove my key into the lock. Luke is right behind me, his hands on my arms, his breath on my neck.

Dammit. How can he make me feel so mixed up all at once? So angry and hurt and turned on all at once?

"Alyssa. Can we talk about this?"

"You had plenty of chances to talk to me in the last few months."

I push the door open and stumble inside. He follows me, and I make no effort to stop him.

"Please?" he asks. There's vulnerability in his voice, desperation. Like a no will break his heart.

"Later," I say. I walk to the bedroom, shut the door behind me, and crawl into bed. It's only after I pull the covers over my head that I feel like I can breathe.

I'm fucking this up so badly, but I have no clue how to stop.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Luke

I sit on the couch and suck the last bit of tequila--the only alcohol in the apartment, of course--from my glass and place it in the sink.

Alyssa doesn't want to talk. Fine. But that isn't going to keep me from being near her, not when my body is screaming for proximity.

I turn the handle to the bedroom door. It creaks, filling the living room with a gorgeous midnight blue.

Damn. The view in this room is better than I remembered. The windows are huge, letting in an expanse of skyline.

Alyssa is lying on the bed, comforter wrapped around every part of her body but her head. She murmurs something I can't make out. It's closer to an invitation than to an objection, even if it's not by much.

I close the door behind me and slip my jacket off my shoulders.

She rolls over, pulling the comforter tighter around her body. Her eyes pass over me. "This isn't much later."

I loosen my tie and undo my top two buttons. Her eyes get wide, her teeth sinking into her lip. But she snaps out of it, shaking her head.

"I'm not here to talk."

Her gaze goes straight to my chest. She swallows. "What are you here to do?"

I pull my tie off, letting it fall to the floor.

Her eyes are glued to me, like I'm performing in a private show just for her. Maybe I am. I undo the rest of my buttons and shrug my shirt off my shoulders.

It slides down my arms, falling to the floor behind me.

"I'm here for your viewing pleasure." I raise my eyebrows and throw her a cheeky wink.

She tries to stifle a laugh, but she fails. Her lips curve into the tiniest smile. For a split second, her eyes are bright. Happy. Then it's gone, and she's back to her distant expression.

I unbuckle my belt, pull it from its loops, and drop it on the floor. Alyssa sighs, her tongue sliding over her lips.

It has been a long time.

I unbutton my slacks and slide them down my thighs. Her eyes go wide, but she shakes her head to try and hide her interest.

"I'm not." She takes a deep breath. "We shouldn't... Right now. Luke, I..."

"I'm only getting comfortable." I sit on the bed a few feet from her, and pull off my dress socks.

She scans my body again, taking in every inch of it. Every inch she can while I'm in my boxers.

I lift the comforter to climb in with her. "Do you mind?"

"No."

I climb in with her. It's damn warm, all from the heat of her body, and she's so close. Only inches away.

I bring my body behind hers, pressing my chest against her back, my crotch against her ass. She groans lightly, and tilts her head back to meet mine. There's something so familiar about the way she smells. Something that feels like home.

The tension in my neck relaxes. Her thoughts might be a million miles away, but she's not. She's here. She's close enough to touch.

I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She sighs, melting into me.

I hold her for a while, listening to her breath, her heartbeat. The room is quiet, no sounds except for us. Nothing in the world matters except for us.

She arches her back, bringing her neck to my lips. She's so soft, so warm, so sweet.

I suck against her neck, scraping my teeth against her skin. She moans, putty in my hands.

"Luke..." Her voice is barely a whisper, but it's so strained and desperate. There's no doubt to her intention.

I slide my hand over the thick wool skirt covering her hips. Then it's on her tights. They're soft, and thin enough that she starts to shake from my touch.

Damn. I almost forgot how good it feels to touch her, to watch her light up with pleasure.

I plant another kiss on her neck and drag my fingertips over her thighs.

She purrs, arching her back and rubbing her ass against me.

I bring my mouth to her ear. "Are you sure?"

She nods and turns to face me. Our eyes meet, just for a moment. She's sure.

Her eyes flutter closed and she presses her lips against mine. Everything we've felt since we've last seen each other, during these awful three months, is pouring between us. Her kiss is hungry, desperate, needy.

She shifts back into position, her neck against my lips, her ass pressed against my cock.

Pressure pools inside me. I need to get her clothes off, to get my hands on her skin.

I find the top of her tights and slide them off her ass. She purrs, throwing her head back so her neck is at my mouth. I sink my teeth into her skin.

She shakes.

My body takes over.

I sigh, sinking my teeth into her neck as I slide my hands over her thighs.

I pull her tights to her feet. Her legs are smooth, curvy, perfect. I run my fingertips from her ankle to the inside of her knee. Then, slowly, I trace zigzags up her thighs.

She moans, rubbing me with her ass. I kiss her neck again, and I stroke her inner thighs until she's shaking. She wraps her fingers around my wrist like my hand is some tool for her pleasure.

I follow her lead. She brings my hand under her blouse, dragging my fingers across the soft skin of her stomach.

Jesus.

I bring my hand to her chest, cupping her breasts over her bra. She groans, lifting her skirt so there's nothing in between us but my boxers and her black panties.

She arches into me again, sliding her cunt over my cock.

I run my fingers over the edge of her bra as I bring my mouth to her ear. "Take off your top."

She pulls her blouse over her head, revealing every inch of her gorgeous skin. There's a lacy bra curled over her lush breasts. I need to rip it off, to rub her while I fuck her.

That's it. No more waiting. My body won't allow it.

I unhook her bra and slide it off her shoulders. She gasps as I take her breasts into my hands, kneading them slowly.

She purrs at my touch, melting into me, digging her nails into my thigh. I trace her nipple with my finger, over and over, until she's shaking.

She arches into me again, her panties meeting my boxers.

"Now the panties," I say.

She brings her hands to her hips and slides her panties off.

Then her hand is on mine, and she's bringing it between her legs. She's wet. She's so fucking wet.

I stroke her clit, slowly, over and over. She groans, throwing her head back, pressing her neck against mine.

She rolls over, turning towards me. Her eyes flutter open, and she stares into mine. Then they're closed, and her lips are on mine. She kisses me hard, her tongue swirling around mine.

It's all the invitation I need.

I grab her and turn her back to her side. She arches her back, panting. She's wet, desperate, needy.

Fuck.

I slide my boxers off and position myself behind her. Her body is pressed against mine. She's so soft, so fucking sexy. I run my hands over the smooth skin of her thighs, reveling in her soft groans.

It's been too fucking long.

She shifts, rubbing her sex against my cock. Pleasure shoots through my body, and I grab her hips and slide inside her.

Alyssa gasps, reaching back and digging her nails into my thigh.

I shudder. It's been too long.

With my hands on her hips, I thrust into her. She's so wet, so warm, so fucking tight. Pleasure surges through my body. I need her to feel this too, to feel so good she could die.

I run my fingertips over her thighs, working my way to her clit. She groans and lifts her leg to give me better access. I stroke her. Again. Harder. Again. Harder.