Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers Book 3) (3 page)

I
watch
her tight ass disappear into her room, my mouth watering for a taste.

Well, that went better than I thought
, I think, pulling another beer from the fridge.

Far better, actually.

Balls are aching, but I’m not choking on them.

Not a mark on me, although under the right circumstances, they’d be most welcome.

And I still have two functioning eyes, which I thought for a few seconds she was gonna scratch out.

She does a number on me, that’s for sure. I could pound nails I’m so fucking hard. I’ll definitely be jerkin’ the gherkin tonight, but I don’t plan on doing that for any extended period of time.

Now that I’ve seen my fireball again, I am more determined than ever to get everything I want.

Which, in case you haven’t figured it out yet…is her underneath me, hot and needy, while I kiss her slow and bring her up fast, her throaty pants spurning me on as I lavish unparalleled pleasure all over her body.

In other words: I want to fuck her raw and fuck her hard. And I don’t plan on waiting long to do just that.

L
eaning against the door
, I tell myself…
think, think, think
. There has to be some way out of this. Dumping my stuff on my dresser, I sift through my purse until I find my cell, calling the one person I know will have answers. Quickly, punching a series of buttons, the phone rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“Hello,” a tired voice answers. I look at the clock and note that it’s not quite nine yet.

“I’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

She chuckles. “Not quite, but close. I know, I know, I’m a loser.”

“You’re not a loser. You’re six months pregnant with twins. I’m sorry. I can talk to you tomorrow.”

“No, no, it’s fine, Addy. What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong? Can’t I just call and talk to my best friend because I miss her?” Oh, something’s wrong, all right. Very, very,
very
fucking wrong.

“Because you sound…off.”

“Is your portion of the lease in Luke’s name?” I blurt.
Way to ease into it, Addy.

“Uh…why do you ask?”

“When I got home from the studio tonight, he was moving all his shit into
your
unoccupied bedroom, that’s why.”

“Oh.” She sighs.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“Yes?” she answers sheepishly.

“Yes? Is that a yes that’s all you have to say or a yes to my original question?” Crickets answer me. “What the fuck, Livia?”

“Addy…it’s a long story.”

“Livia,” I whine. “How could you do this to me?”

I knew it was too good to be true that I would actually have this whole twelve-hundred-square-foot apartment to myself when Livia moved out. All she told me was her portion of the lease was taken care of through October and I didn’t need to worry about it until then, to which I was grateful. I loved having Livia as a roommate and I don’t want a new one, especially a sinfully sexy one with a sharp bite and a wicked mouth. One who will likely worm his way into my pants before the month is out.

Oh my God. This is a complete disaster.

“I…I was trying to escape some things when I moved to Chicago and Luke helped me. He thought it would be best if I flew under the radar for a while and if the lease was in his name.”

This is the most Livia has told me about her past in all the time we’ve been friends. I think back to all the secrets I know she’s been carrying since I met her and for the thousandth time, I wonder what she was running from. There was no doubt she was running from something. Or someone. Yet I’ve never pried and I’m never going to. If she wants to tell me her secrets, she will. If she doesn’t, well, then that’s fine too. Not many of us are open books. I know I’m not.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I just…he’s…unnerving. He pushes all of my goddamned buttons.”

Sheer frustration.

Outright anger.

And the scariest of all? My blood burns with a raw sexual desire I haven’t felt before with
anyone
, and I don’t like it. What I like even less is I don’t want to deny it.

“Addy, Luke’s a great guy once you get to know him. He’s…well, he’s just a little rough around the edges.”

Ya think?
Somehow I think she knows a very different Luke than the one he’s shown me. And I wonder why that makes the seeds of envy blossom deep within my belly. “Did you know about this?”

“No. I didn’t know.”

“Did Gray?”

“I don’t know. If he did, he hasn’t said anything. I would have at least given you a heads up.”

“Ugh. I know. I’m sorry. What am I going to do?” I ask, flopping unceremoniously onto my bed.

“I don’t know that there’s much you can do,” she replies quietly.

“Hmm,” I mumble. I could move out but not until October, and that’s seven months away. Christ on a crutch.

“I thought you...liked him?”

I do. Too much. That’s the damn problem! “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Come on, Addy. This is me you’re talking to. Have you forgotten what happened at my bachelorette party a few months ago? I thought Luke was going to go all homicidal on Cooper for laying a finger on you.”

Crap. No. No, I have not forgotten. I distinctly remember sighing in contentment when he held me tightly to him before I let the effects of the alcohol take me to oblivion. The memory is hazy, but I’m not sure I could ever forget the feel of Luke’s strong, muscular arms wrapped around me or the feel of his hard chest beneath my hands or how I felt safe and, strangely, cared for. It was the first time in a very long time I’d felt that way. I swore I could feel his phantom arms around me for most of the night, although when I woke late in the morning he wasn’t there, so I know I was dreaming it.

That night, I was trying hard to numb the pain and may have gone a little overboard. Earlier in the week, I’d found out that Aiden had gone and got himself engaged. Three months after our breakup. It was like a swift punch to the solar plexus. Not for the first time, I wondered why I had to fall for guys who couldn’t commit themselves to
me
. Since we share many of the same friends, their happiness was like a cold glass of water thrown in my face daily through social media.
Yeah, Facebook
.
Yeah, Instagram.
Yeah, fucking Snapchat.

“And even I didn’t miss the way he stalked you with his eyes around my wedding reception. I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at him, too, Addy.”

And does that bother you?
I want to ask but don’t. I know Livia’s madly in love with and married to Luke’s twin. I also know they share a special bond, so I don’t know how she would feel about her best friend hooking up with him. Happy or jealous? I don’t even know why I’m thinking of hooking up with Luke in the first place because that just
cannot
happen. He is the quintessential bad boy and I just don’t need that in my life for a whole host of reasons. First, being my heart is finally starting to mend from the last one. I don’t wish it broken again.

Luke will absolutely break it. He might as well carry a warning sign around his neck that says, “Caution: I’ll fuck you in more ways than one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Livia. I was drunk.”

She laughs. “Right. Okay, play it your way, Addy, but you and I both know the truth.”

The truth?

The truth is I’ve wanted Luke Colloway for over ten long years, ever since I saw my brother’s friend when visiting my father in Detroit. The truth is that Luke Colloway is the man who turned my tastes onto bad boys to begin with. The truth is, Luke Colloway is the man I’ve compared all others in my life to.

The truth?
I’m screwed ten ways to tomorrow.

“I have to go.” I’m tired of talking, thinking, and torturing myself with Luke.

“Say, come over for dinner tomorrow night. I miss my friend.”

“I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“You’re not a third wheel. Asher and Alyse will be here too. Besides, I finished the nursery and I want to show you.”

So I’ll be a fifth wheel, instead.
Sigh
. “Okay. What time?” I could use a little time with my best friend. It’s not been the same since she moved out.

“Seven-thirty?”

“All right. What can I bring?”

“Nothing. I have everything planned out.” She pauses. “I’m sure everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, Addy.”

“Right. Sure.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yep,” I agree, hitting the disconnect button before throwing my phone down beside me. I stare at the stark white drywall ceiling that could use a fresh coat of paint and think back to the first time I laid eyes on Luke.

My parents had divorced when I was nine and Eric was eleven. My father moved to Detroit while we remained in Joliet with our mother. The day Eric turned fourteen was like the day I got a new brother. One day he was a great kid with a fun-loving, laid-back personality who got straight A’s in school and had grand plans to become a vet. The next, he was hanging out with the bad crowd and started skipping school, smoking weed, and stealing. Lying became like second nature to him. By fifteen, my mom couldn’t take it anymore and shipped him off to live with our dad.

Unfortunately, he didn’t fare much better in Detroit, which in hindsight probably wasn’t exactly the best city to send a troubled teen to.

Despite Eric’s issues, we were always very close. I missed him terribly when he left me, so I visited my dad and brother as much as I could, hoping that I’d be able to be a good influence and bring him back to us. Besides, visiting my dad was a great escape from my mother and whomever she chose to warm her bed with that month.

But as much as I tried to be there for Eric, it didn’t help, and the older he got, the more often he wasn’t home when I visited. He tried desperately to shield me from his friends and his lifestyle, always telling me,
“You have potential, kid. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
Whenever we talked about him getting out of whatever illegal activities he’d gotten himself into, he’d tell me it wasn’t that easy. I thought that was a cop-out, although it didn’t make me love him any less.

The summer after I graduated high school, I spent a month with my father and Eric. As usual, Eric wasn’t around much. My dad and I had a great time anyway—he’s a great man, and my mom could learn a few things from him. Sadly, she won’t. Her life revolves solely around her.

One evening, Dad and I went to a free blues concert at Memorial Park on the shores of Lake St. Clair, which was one of my favorite things to do in the summer there. It was after eleven when we arrived home and I went straight to bed, but I woke up in the middle of the night with insomnia—a pretty common occurrence for me. I’ve always had a hard time sleeping, even when I was a baby, according to my mother.

I was almost three-quarters of the way down the stairs, headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water when I heard his deep timbre for the first time. Even before I saw him, there was something about his voice that drew me in. The quiet rumble sent phantom fingers of pleasure feathering all over my body, settling heavily between the dark junction of my thighs.

I backed up two steps so I was hidden by the wall and quietly sank down, certain that if I set a foot into the kitchen, my brother would freak out. I absolutely
had
to see the face attached to that sinful voice, because in my mind I already knew the visual would be far, far better.

I leaned forward and from my vantage point through the banisters, caught my first glimpse of Luke Colloway. I held my breath for fear of making a noise, ruining the ruse. I was sure they’d be able to hear the quick cadence of my heart, which was beating double time as I drank in the Adonis sitting in my father’s house.

Holy mother of perfection, he was stunningly beautiful. Unlike any man I had ever laid eyes on, not that there were a lot of them in Joliet, Illinois. You could immediately tell he was rough, brooding, and intimidating. A predator of sorts. Not someone you’d want to meet in a dark alleyway, but definitely, someone you’d want to show you his dark side in the bedroom.

He was lounging at the kitchen table, his right arm slung casually over the empty chair beside him and one ankle thrown on the opposite leg. His light grey T-shirt wasn’t too tight, but taut enough so I could see the honed muscles underneath, rippling with every slight movement he made. Tats decorated the arm he rested on his thigh and more peeked out the top of his shirt. Faded, ripped jeans molded to his powerful thighs and even from that distance, I could see he had been gifted in all the right places. The outline of his impressive package was visibly evident, and I still distinctly remember how it made my girly parts throb.

Long, enviable lashes, a wicked eyebrow ring and shiny chestnut hair tied at the nape of his neck rounded out the sexy as sin package. He was the very definition of bad boy and had me breathlessly enthralled.

I sat there for over an hour while he talked to my brother and another man, neither of whom I could see from my angle. I don’t remember a single word that was said, my entire focus solely on him. A million questions ran through my head, both then and now. I wanted to know anything and everything about Luke Colloway.

I quietly made my way back up the stairs only when he headed for the front door, slipping back into bed and falling into dreams of a man who’d made my blood sing and my body a live wire of desire without a single look or touch. I saw Luke three more times before I went back to Joliet, each time as I hid in the shadows like a love-struck stalker.

A few days before I left, I got up the courage to ask Eric about his “friends” in a general way, not letting on I knew anything about Luke in particular. He was short and terse and told me to mind my own business, which only fueled my intense interest in the man even further.

I’ve often thought about Luke over the years, wondering if he ended up in jail, like Eric. And wondering if he straightened his life out, like Eric. I still don’t know about the first part, but it seems like the latter is true. At least I hope it is—I don’t need to invite trouble to my doorstep.

As I watched Luke interact with his friends back then, I could tell he was an enigma and in my few interactions with him over these past few months, I see he hasn’t changed a bit. In fact, he’s even more so.