Relish: A Vicious Feast Book 2 (8 page)

Lying on my stomach, completely naked, I opened my eye to bright yellow sunlight. I blinked, not blinded at all by the ray hitting my face. I reached out, watching my fingers split the beam. My skin became translucent. The blood beneath showed as pink. I breathed into a smile and stretched before rolling onto my back.

Somewhere—maybe my living room—someone strummed a guitar. The sad plucking reminded me of the pitter patter of rain on a tin roof after a miserable summer day. Gentle humming accompanied the chords then the words:

I can’t breathe outside your air.

I’m so scared when you’re not there.

How can I be a man without you there?

I can’t breathe outside your air.

How can I be a man without you there?

How can I be a man without you there?

The rich, smooth voice—perfect for speaking hushed words in the bedroom—woke flutters in my stomach. Goose bumps rose on my skin at the lyrics. The singing paused followed by a scratching noise, like a pencil flying across paper. When the strumming resumed, I rubbed away the last of sleep from my eye then ran my fingers over the patch. It stayed on. I sat up, letting the sheets fall to my waist. Unashamed of my nakedness, I stretched again. The guitar called to me. Grabbing the silk robe dangling from the side of the bed, I wrapped myself in it and padded out of my room.

I stood at the doorway like the first time I’d dreamt about him. Luka sat on the couch in ratty jeans. The soft morning light danced in his ruffled curls. His ringed fingers curled around the bridge of an acoustic guitar while the other plucked at the strings. He had his eyes closed, intently listening for the right note, judging from the crease on his brow. Luka was as gorgeous as I remembered him. I bit my lip at the sight of the bolt on his nipple. My tongue moved when I recalled the taste of the mental as I took it into my mouth on a cold pre-winter morning that seemed like such a long time ago.

My gaze wandered to his broad shoulders. I gasped. “Where’s the tattoo?”

Without thinking twice, I ran behind the couch. The elegant line of his back and its cut muscle greeted my scrutiny sans the massive tattoo of a bird rising from the ashes of a flame. I reached out, but before my palm made contact with warm skin I pulled back, suddenly all too aware of the thin silk robe I had on. I tugged at the fabric so it wrapped securely around me as I rounded the couch to face him.

“Don’t tell me we…”

He grinned then shook his head. “I wish.”

“Why am I naked and you’re in just jeans?” I huffed, pushing my fingers through my mussed hair. My ears couldn’t lie. I sounded as hysterical as I felt. I gulped in several breaths to settle my nerves.

Luka shrugged in the way I always found maddening and said, “This is your dream, not mine.” 

I gaped. “So I really am dreaming you right now?”

He continued his guitar strumming. My heart clenched before it beat like a punching fist in my chest. Something about the song pulled me in, like it wanted me to open my arms and embrace the man sitting on my couch until he no longer felt as destroyed as the lyrics made him seem. I’d forgotten how beautiful Luka could be while composing. It was like he existed in two worlds, the one in his head and the real one. But, then again, what was the real world in Luka’s case? He lived in a fantasy most people dreamed about.

“You’re not taking the job?” he asked after adding a new line to the next verse about never waking to face the truth.

As far as dreams went, this was even weirder than the chanting ones. “The job?”

“The one Yana offered you.” He met my gaze for the briefest moment. I saw a flash of blue before his eyelids and long eyelashes covered it again. A twinge of longing struck me. For an insane second I wanted to scream at him to look at me so I could feel the intensity of his stare on my skin.

Instead I asked, “How’d you know about that?”

He arched that pierced brow at me.

“Right.” I scratched my head. “My dream. Of course you’d know. But can I say how weird this is?”

When he shrugged this time he let go of the guitar so his palms faced the ceiling. The move was almost comical. Laughter bubbled inside me, but I refused to let it out. Being in the presence of Luka’s gorgeousness knocked me off kilter. This may be a dream but his magnetism sure felt real. I refused to exercise my right to fan my face. Damn him for his inherent hotness.

“Anyway,” I said to get back into the conversation so I wouldn’t hump him on my couch. “Like I told Larry, I don’t know.”

At the mention of Larry, annoyance flashed in Luka’s eyes. “How’d you end up with that guy anyway?”

“Don’t change the subject.” I put my hands on my hips and widened my stance in what I assumed was my most menacing pose. “What happens between me and Larry is none of your business.”

He rested his hands on the curve of the guitar. I bit down a whimper. The image of those hands gliding over the curve of my waist invaded my head and scrambled my thoughts. Oh to feel those fingers plucking something other than strings…No! I yanked my mind out of the gutter.

“Look, I know I hurt you.” Those intense blue eyes were on me. I didn’t think it possible but I flushed from head to toe. If he touched me, I swear I might fall apart. Or spontaneously combust. “But that doesn’t mean you can fall into bed with any guy to get over me.”

Like a sudden turn, I went from flushed with desire to boiling with anger. I crossed my arms and scowled at him. Luka didn’t flinch. The bastard.

“I can fuck Larry and whomever else I choose. I’m not apologizing, and if you’re offended, too bad. Besides, why should I care? You’re just in my head.” I narrowed my gaze.

He cleared his throat then sighed. “You’re right. You’re free to do what you want. I’ve embarrassed myself more than enough already.”

“What are you saying?”

“The whole begging you to stay with me? Ring a bell?”

I tilted my head. “But this is a dream.”

“What? Can’t my dream self feel embarrassed?”

The eye roll came and went. Exasperation leaching away my irritation, I plopped onto the couch beside him. Luka shifted to accommodate me. I crossed both my arms and my legs. My conversation with Larry that evening replayed in my head.

“I meant it when I told Larry I don’t know what I want to do.” I blew out a breath, ruffling the hair that fell over my forehead. “Believe me when I say I really want to take your picture again.”

“Then why not say yes and get this over with?”

“Because I get too caught up in your world.” I shook my head. “That’s not healthy.”

“Those are Larry’s words, not yours.”

“If what happened after New Year’s Eve is any indication, I might not survive a second dose of living with Vicious. I really felt my world crumble then. I don’t want to feel that pathetic ever again.”

Luka set the guitar aside and shifted to face me fully. His knee brushed against my thigh, sending tingles up and down my leg. For a dream, his body heat radiating toward me felt way too real. I swallowed when my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth. And, God, the way he smelled. I had to force myself not to bury my face against the side of his neck. Thankfully, his next words gave me something to focus on.

“Who says you’ll get hurt again?”

I pouted. “Have you met you?”

“Right.”

“There are no guarantees, Luka. Yana says you’re getting therapy, but I’m not willing to risk coming back only to have you use me again.”

“But wouldn’t you know better now?” His earnest expression melted some of my resolve. Damn it! I wanted so much to kiss those sexy lips. Not good.

As if the Luka in my dream heard my thoughts, he cupped the back of my neck. I sucked in a breath as he pulled me close to meet him halfway. I barely had time to lick my lower lip before the kiss I’d been craving since coming back to my apartment happened. But instead of the wild, messy kiss I expected from him, this one remained gentle—a tender meeting of lips. It broke the last of my defenses. I circled my arms around his shoulders.

In a suave move I could only think of as practiced, Luka hooked his hands on the backs of my thighs and lifted me up until I straddled his lap. I gasped into his mouth when my bare legs made contact with his rough jeans. He glided his hands to my ass, squeezing me there until I let out a moan before moving to the curve of my back. The touch forced me to arch into him so my breasts pressed against his bare chest. The lovely friction caused by the silk robe coaxed my nipples erect. Not once during this overload of sensation did my lips leave his.

I shuddered when the stud on his tongue grazed my palate. His sweet spicy scent surrounded me. I breathed him in greedily. My fingers moved from his neck up the back of his head. In a practiced move of my own, I pulled him by his curls so his head tilted back. It gave me access to the column of his neck, which I licked from sternum to jaw. My need for him reached primal heights. He growled, his fingers scratching down my back. He cupped my ass again, bringing me forward. The clear bulge there woke feelings in me I hadn’t allowed myself to entertain since New Year’s Eve.

Forget Vicious being my drug of choice. I needed the band to fuel my art, but it was Luka who I needed to survive. The realization scared me sober. I scrambled off the couch so fast I didn’t have time to see the expression on his face. Pulling the robe tightly closed, I stomped back into my bedroom and slammed the door shut.

C
HAPTER
N
INE
C
HOICE

I woke up bright and early on a sunny Wednesday prepared to defend my introspective. The weather, rare this time of year, supported the decision I’d made. After yet another bizarre dream encounter with Luka, which I refused to call a moment of weakness even if it really was, gave me much needed perspective. I held my answer to Yana’s offer close to my chest. Not even Larry or Silvia knew.

Speaking of, I peeked into my room from the kitchen where I’d begun brewing coffee. Larry slept in my bed fully clothed. Since the night he brought pizza, we’d come to an understanding. No more no-strings-attached sex. He stayed because I told him about the dreams. That I needed to know someone slept beside me when I woke up from them. Like a security blanket, I grudgingly admitted. He didn’t laugh, only hugged me and agreed to stay for as long as I needed him. My heart broke at that. I’d become a class A user and shamelessly took advantage of Larry’s protective instincts. My hero. Guilt congealed in my gut.

My lip curled at the memory of his suggestion of seeing a shrink. With my travel plans in place after graduation, I’d hate to cancel just so I could work things out in therapy. I’d have to find a way to make due. Maybe I’d be too busy enjoying myself country hopping that I would be so exhausted by the time I closed my eye that dreams wouldn’t come. Hopefully. I sighed when the coffee machine beeped.

Mixing in cream and two spoons of sugar into the Indian roast Larry had begged me to try, I ran through all the possible scenarios for my defense. He’d grilled me for hours last night until my brain hurt. I was as ready as I’d ever be to pass this final step in gaining my degree.

I gulped the steaming chicory brew instead of the sip customary when drinking a hot beverage. I swallowed immediately and stuck out my tongue. Despite the inside of my mouth stinging, a giggle bubbled out of me.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Larry commented as he padded to the coffeemaker in his pajama bottoms and gray Wexler T. I’d discovered during our first no-sex night that we actually dressed alike in bed. With my burnt taste buds numb, the coffee I drank spread comforting warmth in my chest.

“I just want to get this over with,” I scratched my shin with my big toe while half-sitting on my desk. I scanned the loose copy of my paper laid out over its surface. The stapled copy was safely tucked in my bag. The panelists were given their review copy the Friday before the Showcase.

“Want breakfast with that?” He pointed at my already half-empty mug.

I shook my head. “As much as I want to, the nerves won’t like food in my stomach. Maybe after the defense we can grab lunch?”

“No can do.” He cracked an egg into a waiting pan using one hand. Its sizzle eased some of the tight knots my insides had become. “I have my own final paper to write.”

I nodded even if he had his back turned to me. A surprisingly easy rhythm had begun between us. Gone was the pressure of making something more of our relationship. Larry would make some girl really happy one day. My gaze dropped to my laptop’s digital clock. “I better go if I want time to arrange the photos before the panelists arrive.”

“Good luck…”

I rushed to the bathroom, not catching the rest of his sentence. Wishing me good luck was more than I needed. I’d meant what I’d told him. I wouldn’t have survived without his help. I owed him big time.

***

Dressed in black leather pants, a simple white T-shirt, and a black blazer, I arranged the photos on ten easels lined diagonally from the podium I would be standing behind and the table the panelists would be sitting at. I’d been the first to arrive at the auditorium where the Winter Showcase was held for the performers. We were using the stage for the defense, which I didn’t mind so long as the seats by the stage remained empty but for the people I expected to come and watch. I didn’t need fans of Vicious screaming while they watched me defend my project.  

Just as I leaned the tenth photo on the last easel, Dean Patterson entered through the backstage door to my left. “You’re early, Ms. Collins.”

“I wanted to secret away the photos from the exhibition hall without anyone seeing me.” I stepped back and gave the pictures one last look over. I couldn’t change the progression anymore. The way I presented them at the Showcase needed to remain since the panelists would have viewed the introspective before today.

Dean Patterson harrumphed. The hairs on his handlebar mustache bristled. I would have laughed if the nervous energy that I’d forgotten when I entered the auditorium hadn’t returned. My stomach executed several backflips any gymnast would be proud off. I gave myself an imaginary pat on the head for not eating breakfast. I wouldn’t have been able to hold down anything harder than coffee.