Groomless - Part 3 (13 page)

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Authors: Sierra Rose

Tags: #Billionaire Romance

BOOK: Groomless - Part 3
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Returning to my senses, I leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer to retrieve a condom. I slid it on Luke, who was primed and ready. I was ready for him, too, and I would have him at last.

Suddenly, he stopped moving, braced himself above me on his arms, and pressed his forehead to mine. His eyes were hooded for a moment, then closed altogether. “Jay, it’s been forever,” he said raggedly, then opened his gorgeous eyes again as he thrust into me, long and slow.

Almost immediately, we fell into our old rhythm. The ease with which he stroked into me and the way I pushed my hips up to meet him was so familiar, so much like home that I was afraid I might cry. Luke stroked my hair, my face and nipped at my lips teasingly as he buried himself inside me again and again until I was dizzy, swirling out into the blackness of ecstasy, completely breathless. I moved my hand down between us and stroked myself until I felt the tremors take me, until my body instinctively clenched around his girth. He shook me to the core, and I felt his solid presence so deep within me. My hand curved around the back of his neck, and I kissed his mouth again. My tongue slid along his as he thrust into me, losing himself entirely and going rigid in my arms. He said my name again, and I held him tightly.

When Luke rolled over on his side, he wrapped me in his strong arms, leaving me no choice but to go with him. I was held captive by him, and he would not give me headspace or an inch of wiggle room. It truly felt as if we were one as Luke kissed my forehead, my nose, and finally my lips, softly and sweetly.

“We’re still damn good at that, Jay,” he said proudly.

“Good old
Cosmo
,” I said and he laughed.

“I didn’t learn everything from those magazines. I learned from being with you. You taught me how to touch you, how to get you to move a certain way, make a certain sound.”

“I love you,” I said, but I didn’t mean to say it. I didn’t even know it was true until the words were out. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have said that,” I immediately apologized. “I need Liz to come do damage control. Does she make house calls?”

“Not if you didn’t keep your ankles crossed. Based on what I’ve seen and felt here, you certainly didn’t cross your legs at the ankles…or the knees,” he teased.

“Really, forget I said that. I’m just… I guess I’m overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed? Uh…I’m not sure if that is a good performance assessment or a bad one,” he said, wrinkling his brow at me in confusion.

“At least I didn’t say it was odd.”

“Well, you have a point there.”

“Really, Luke, it is nice to be with you like this again. It’s nice to be held by someone who knows me, ya know?”

“As opposed to all the random strangers you bone?”

“Of course,” I said, smiling. “You know what I mean though. I guess I just felt some sort of…emotional surge. We have a history and all. I guess it was just hormones. Just ignore me,” I babbled.

“Impossible. I’ve never been able to ignore you, JJ, not even when we were apart. No matter where I was or how long I went without seeing you, you were always on my mind. I never could ignore you then, and I never will be able to.”

I grinned widely and playfully nudged him. “Wow. You sound like some sort of creepy stalker,” I joked.

“Only for you, baby,” he teased.

“Can we go to sleep now, before I embarrass myself more?”

“Don’t be embarrassed. In fact, I’d love to hear more. Stroke my ego a bit, would ya? Tell me all the magnificent things you love about me.”

“I think you’ve had more than your fair share of stroking this morning,” I said, glancing down at his crotch.

He laughed and even blushed a little. “Go on now. Tell me how enamored you are by my looks, my wit, my tattoo, my skills in bed…”

“You don’t need my compliments, Luke. From the way it sounds, you’re head’s big enough already.”

“Sorry about that. Hope I didn’t hurt you,” he teased.

I smacked him playfully on his tattooed shoulder. “You’ve got enough confidence for twenty men. You don’t need my flattery.”

“I think I do. What you say about me has weight. It’s more significant coming from you, because you’ve always known me.”

“I’m not exactly an expert, Luke. I really don’t know anything about men, especially the type who have their own helicopter and a penthouse with bulletproof glass.”

“You know plenty. I can personally attest that you know at least one in the biblical sense,” he said.

“The biblical sense? Gee. This doesn’t look like the freaking Garden of Eden.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, I do know that you care about me, that you’re an old friend, and that you wish you could make things better for me. I know that just now, you got carried away, just like I did. I hate to be rude or callous or anything, but this really doesn’t mean anything, right? We’ve just been spending a lot of time together recently in this odd, artificial situation, and it’s got us all mixed up.”

“I like being mixed up with you. We make quite a cocktail. You’ve got the tail, and I’ve got the c—”

“Stop!” I said, playfully swatting him again. “Look, just go home, Luke. You need a shower or two.”

“I do?”

“Yes. You smell like sex, sweat, and Indonesian food. I’m pretty sure it will offend Liz and anyone else who gets within three feet of you.”

He sniffed his armpit. “You’ve got a point.”

“I’ve gotta put on a wedding gown and say goodbye to my dad soon. I have a lot to process. I know you were trying to comfort me, to take my mind off everything and make me feel better. I’m grateful for that, but now I need you to go get some rest so I can be alone.”

“Grateful?” he said, his voice hollow. “Comfort you? Whatever, Jay. I’m going.” Obviously insulted by my dismissal, he vaulted off the bed and gathered his clothes. In the process, he must’ve picked up something of mine, because he tossed it onto the bed in my direction, without even looking at me.

When he was gone, when I heard my front door slam, I let myself give in to the tears.
Why did I tell him that? Why did I just keep those damn three little words to myself? Why do I always have to fuck everything up, complicate everything?
I couldn’t believe what we’d done, that he’d come to me from the airport and I’d let him take me to bed like that. I instantly regretted it, and I knew it was going to hurt like nine levels of hell for a long, long time, just more pain and regret to pile on top of what I was already going to have to endure as I lost my beloved father.

***

Even though we’d parted on somewhat bad terms, I met up with Luke on Friday night for a game of pool. I was a bit nervous about seeing him again, but when I walked in, he smiled at me like he was looking at a million bucks. He gave me a long onceover from head to toe, then brought his eyes back up to mine.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

He shook my hand and wrapped his other hand around mine, and his gaze lingered on me for just a second longer than normal. I could feel the electricity racing through me from his touch, and he looked so handsome with his tousled hair, blue jeans, and a black shirt that seemed to be glued to the lines and curves in his powerful chest and arms.

“Your beautiful smile still captivates me,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a warm grin. “I guess those braces paid off.”

He laughed. “I always thought you looked cute in braces.”

I nudged him softly. “Whatever.”

“It’s kinda crowded tonight. Let’s grab a beer while we wait for a pool table to open up.”

“Sure.”

We got a beer and sat at the bar. No matter how much we talked, we never ran out of things to chat about. That was yet another thing I loved about Luke: He always made me feel at ease and comfortable. I felt like I could talk to him for hours, like we used to under the stars so long ago. He was such a great listener and never seemed to tire of what I had to say, even when I told the same old jokes and repeated the same old stories again and again, which I had a sad habit of doing. Whether we were reminiscing about old times or I was explaining boring thing to him, like the importance of camera angles or the fine art of olive placement, he made me feel like every word I spoke was important. In every way, Luke always made me feel special.

“You know, your place is so awesome,” I said as we discussed our respective apartments.

“You can see it again tonight if you want,” he offered. “That carryout food is probably still in the fridge.”

“What!? It’s gotta be moldy by now. Throw it out, Luke.”

“Well, I’ve still got the whiskey, too, and you’d look great in nothing but a cashmere throw,” he purred, winking at me.

“Nice try, buddy.”

He smiled. “Gotta give a guy credit for asking. Anyway, do you have any other questions you’ve been dying to ask? My life is an open book. Ask away.”

“Um, okay. How is Rover these days? I didn’t see your leg-humping dog when I was there.”

He laughed, and I joined him. “Rover?” he said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that big, black, furry ball.”

“Rover’s great, but he still lives with my parents. And, yes, he still humps legs like crazy.”

I chuckled. “Well, he had to learn something from you, I suppose. Maybe he’s been reading your mom’s
Cosmos
too.”

“If that dog can read, I’m taking
him
on the talk show circuit,” he said. “My PR people would be all over it.”

“I wonder if Liz would teach him how to cross his legs at the ankles,” I joked.

Luke laughed. “Maybe, but I’m not sure he can sit on a stool.”

“I still can’t believe you guys named your dog Rover,” I said.

“I know. It’s so boring and cliché. I wanted to call him Max or something more manly, but my mom won out.”

He shot me his dazzling grin and, against my better judgment, I found myself lost in his eyes. It was like old times all over again, and that was becoming a habit whenever I was with him. 

“I miss Missouri,” I said.

“I miss Table Rock Lake.”

“I’ll never forget your first time on skis,” I said.

“Hey, I stayed up for at least thirty seconds before I crashed and inhaled a lungful of water.”

I gave his arm a squeeze. “You screamed like a baby.”

“Maybe, but how could you blame me? Tony was going at least seventy miles an hour!”

“Yeah, he was trying to yank your chain, but you showed him when you caught the biggest bass.”

“Yeah, that thing was this huge!” he said, holding his arms wide like some old, bragging fisherman.

“Enormous! I still have pics of your prized catch.”

“You do? I’d love to see them.”

“Sure.”

He took a sip of his beer and looked around the place. “It sure is a big change coming from the simple life to the Big Apple. We went from being surrounded by trees to being surrounded by skyscrapers.”

“I know. I sort of have the
Sex and the City
kind of life, I guess, being a fashion photographer and all…well, without the sex part, I mean.”

He laughed. “That’s not necessarily true. Rumor has it that you took care of that little problem just the other day, with some guy who smelled like bakso.”

“Back what?”

“Bakso. It’s this delicious rice stuff. They serve it in a cone shape. It looks like something Madonna wore for a bra in her old music vids, but it tastes delicious.”

“My goodness, Mr. Tits. You do have a one-track mind, don’t you? Who sits down to eat in Indonesia and thinks about Madonna’s boobs?”

He laughed.

I laughed again; no matter what, Luke could always make me smile.

He leaned in. “So, there’s no special guy in your life, right? I mean, other than that Zack, who obviously doesn’t like girls.”

“No,” I said, gazing into his eyes. “Not for a very long time.”

“He might be closer than you think.”

I took a sip of my beer and smiled. “Maybe.”

He broke eye contact just long enough to glance down at my lips.

“Or maybe not,” I added.

“Aw. There it is again,” he said, just staring at me.

“What?” I asked, squirming in my seat a bit, made uneasy by his odd expression.

“I always loved the way you flutter your eyelids, work that smile, and all those happy little expressions you make.”

“It must’ve rubbed off from all those supermodels I photograph.”

He grinned.

“Hey, a table’s opening up,” I said, pointing. “I hope you’re ready to take me on, because I rule at pool.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be surprised at how well I handle my stick,” he said coyly.

“Well, I’m pretty good at handling balls,” I retorted.

“I know.”

“Care to wager?” I asked, blushing a bit. “Nah, scratch that. I’m broke.”

“So? Do you expect to lose?”

“No.”

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