Sordid (25 page)

“I know,” she said, “it’s crazy! Jonathon just left to go over to his girlfriend’s house and show it off.”

“It’s not like it’s an expensive sports car,” my father added. “It’s a Ford Fusion. But it’s brand new, drives great, and looks good. He’s very excited.”

“And it’s so much safer than the Buick. That car’s almost as old as he is.”

Luka worked his fingers inside my bra, and my nipple snapped into a sharp point on contact. I stared at him, silently asking him to wait, but my reluctance only seemed to appeal to him more.

“How?” My word was clipped.

My parents spoke over each other, until my father relented and my mother spoke. “A drawing. He doesn’t even remember when he entered it, and your father was worried it was a scam.”

Luka’s hips moved, gently thrusting against me and forced a reaction. I let out a stuttering breath and put my hands on his chest, mouthing the word,
“Wait.”
He didn’t. He gripped my wrists and eased me down onto my back, pinning me to the table.

“It wasn’t a scam,” my father said. “We drove down to the Markovic dealership this afternoon and picked the car up.”

I bucked against Luka, but his hands had me cuffed tightly to the wood, and his heated body smothered mine. He’d given my brother a car? Why? I was filled with dread. The opulent house Luka held me captive in suggested the Markovics weren’t overly charitable, so this had to be a calculated move.

My mom babbled on about the car, telling me the color and its features, but I couldn’t comprehend. I stared up at Luka and tried to understand what his play was. His expression wasn’t any help. He seemed to be staring back at me with the same curiosity, as if wondering how I was going to react.

He let go of my wrist and tapped my phone’s screen, muting it. “It’s an insurance policy in case you try to run,” he said. “The GPS tells us where he is.”

“I already told you, I’m not going to run.” Wait a minute. He’d said
us
.

“It’s not my insurance policy.” Luka’s voice was soft. “As long as you do what I say, your brother will be fine. Better than fine, he gets a new car out of the arrangement.”

There was no more discussion to be had because he turned off the mute, silencing me. I pressed my lips together to hold back my words. I was scared enough for myself. I didn’t want to add worry for Jonathon on top of it.

My mother’s voice was still bubbly and excited. “Anyway, enough about all that. How are you? How’s school?”

I tensed, hating the lie. “It’s fine.”

“Is Avery around?” she asked casually, probably fishing to see if she could speak freely.

“No,” I said.

“Oh. Is she still driving you crazy?”

The wooden surface wasn’t comfortable, and it grew even more so when Luka’s fingers fumbled at the snap of my jeans. The word came out forceful and meant for him. “No.”

Like it mattered. I squirmed and shoved his hands away, but he shot me a dark, serious look. It turned my body to stone.

“No?” She sounded perplexed. “That’s good. What did you do this weekend?”

He leaned over me, one hand on the table beside my head and the other tugged down my zipper. I was trapped under his heavy, powerful gaze. “I, uh . . . went to a party with Avery.”

My parents spoke at the same time. “You did?”

Luka’s hand was inside my pants, touching me through my underwear, and his mouth lifted in the slight, pleased smile when he discovered how turned on I was. I quivered, and my hands splayed on the tabletop, trying to grip the flat surface.

“Did you have fun?” my mom asked.

Fun
? I couldn’t process a response and then I couldn’t breathe as Luka began to peel the jeans and panties down my legs. I shook my head and gazed up at him with wide eyes, but he smirked and kept going.

I had to say something. My mom had asked me a question. “It was loud. And . . . kind of crowded.”

When Luka pulled my jeans off my hips, my lower body thudded on the table and made the plate closest to the phone bang.

“You okay?” My dad sounded concerned.

“Fine,” I said, hurried. “I dropped something.”

Cool air wafted over my exposed skin. Since he’d gotten the clothes past my knees, it was easy for him to take them the rest of the way off, even as I twisted and tried to make it difficult. He tossed the jeans and underwear across the room where the microphone was less likely to pick up on it. Then, his gaze started at my ankles and slithered upward, lingering at my knees I’d pinched tight together. There was no doubt what he was thinking about.
Oh, shit . . .

I was shaky with trepidation, and maybe a miniscule amount of excitement. Luka was bad, and the worst part of me hoped he was going to make me be bad along with him. Naughty, slutty, and wrong. I teetered at the edge, wanting him to push me over.

“Were there any boys at this party?” my mom teased, probing.

My heart was beating in my throat as Luka’s hand appeared in front of my face and his middle finger pressed against his thumb, only to move abruptly and produce a soft snap. I dragged air in through my nose, taking a deep breath as I parted my trembling legs. His face was evil and triumphant.

“Yes,” I said on a low voice. I wasn’t sure who I was speaking to.

“Yeah?” My mom couldn’t keep her interest even from the one word. “Tell us about him. What’s his major?”

Warm palms smoothed up my thighs, all the way to my center, and Luka’s thumb grazed my clit. It was a jolt so powerful I bit my tongue and choked back my moan.

“He’s, uh, older.” Could they hear my frantic energy? “He graduated last year.”

I placed my hands on my forehead as he bent at the waist and licked all the way from my entrance to my clit. Holding in the sigh of pleasure was nearly impossible and I was sure I was going to burst. My legs shook desperately. He repeated the action, and this time he stayed at the end, fluttering his sinful tongue which made heat dance along my body like fireworks.

“He’s older?” There was surely a frown on my dad’s face to go along with his question.

Luka’s mouth was insane and swirled bliss all through me.

“Yes,” I moaned, then tried to steel my voice. Did they have a clue what their good little girl was doing right at this very moment? “I know him,” I said, trying to soothe away the concern. “He was . . . the TA of my calculus class my sophomore year.”

My mom sounded happy for me. “Oh, you mean Luka?”

Chapter

Seventeen

I froze
, and Luka’s head snapped up, his gaze finding mine.
Oh, shit!
I’d forgotten how I’d mentioned him, and the realization hit me rapid-fire. I’d told my mother about my plan to buy him coffee, and how I’d chickened out. She knew all about my stupid crush on him.

My face burned hotter than the surface of the sun. “Um . . .”

His smile was different this time. Still amazing, but he looked as if he’d conquered me. Which was exactly how I felt.

“Wasn’t that his name?” she continued. “The boy you were head over heels for?”

Mom!
“I wasn’t!”

Luka buried his lips into the side of my leg, planting kisses and silencing a laugh. I was doubly annoyed with my mom, not just at how she’d unknowingly embarrassed me, but how I’d been denied the sound of his laughter. It was such a rare occurrence.

“Okay, Addie,” she said. “Whatever you say. Are you going to see him again?”

Luka’s indecent kiss had rendered me honest. I threaded my hand through his hair and locked my gaze with his intense one. “Yes.”
Oh, yes.
I had a feeling I’d be seeing a lot more of him in another minute. “Hey, I gotta run. Tell Jonathon congrats for me.”

Luka looked disappointed as we said our goodbyes, but the second I disconnected the call, his hands began to work his belt. “Head over heels?”

“I didn’t even know you.”

Did I now?

It was awkward being half naked on the dinner table while he stood beside me, but then his pants were sliding down his thighs and his hard dick was nudging between my legs, readying to make good on his earlier promise.

He pushed inside, giving me just an inch. “You don’t have to know me to want this. Which you do, don’t you?”

The fit of him inside my tight body was still a lot to handle, and it hurt. Yet it felt good. A beautiful pain. The stretch was achy, but it shifted into a new sensation as he pushed deeper inside, sealing the connection between us closed.

“Yes,” I breathed.
Yes
. It felt so good to confess it out loud.

His eyes reflected everything I felt, every drop of lust and pleasure and need, but there was more in his look. He had rage and darkness. He was scary, and perfect.

This morning he’d been almost gentle, probably as gentle as Luka got, but his first harsh thrust now set the tone for the session. I cried out. Pain stabbed into me as he impaled me on his firm dick, but it slid easily into my slick body. The sensation was darkly satisfying, as if he were claiming me all over again for the first time.

The force of his body fucking mine had the table knocking against the floor, scooting along.

“Get your shirt off,” he demanded. “When my cock’s inside you, you’ll always be naked. I want those goddamn tits available to me.”

I frantically yanked at my shirt, lifting it up over my head, and as I cast it over the side of the table, I knocked over my wine glass. It didn’t spill much, as I’d already drank most of the glass. Luka set it back upright as I hurried to undo my bra, and the straps tangled briefly in my arms. It dropped to the floor with barely a sound.

He pinched my nipple so hard there was pain. “Be more careful.”

He drove into my body, punishing me, but the initial hurt was gone, and now I felt heat and pleasure. Every inch I took inside me heightened my craving for him, and I became incensed. I raked my nails down his arms, urging him for more, like I could scrape it out of him. His hands clamped around my waist, holding my thrashing body down.

“Perfect little Addison.” His voice mocked disapproval. “Talking to her parents while I’ve got my head between her thighs, licking her sweet pussy.” His thrust caused my eyes to roll back into my head. “Were you worried they’d find out what I’ve done to their good girl?” With my eyes closed, it made his voice sound treacherous. “That you’re not a virgin anymore?”

I couldn’t think about his words. I fisted a hand in the center of his shirt and pulled him down. Wait, no. His clothes were in my way. I wanted his heated skin pressed against mine. I reached over his shoulder and grabbed another handful of shirt, this time on his back, and jerked it up over his head.

He broke our devastating kiss just long enough to get rid of the t-shirt, and then his lips returned to mine, swallowing my moan. His smooth, soft skin was addictive, and he felt feverish. Maybe that was why his words and actions could be so cold. He used all of his warmth in his burning body.

My spine dug into the table as he continued to pound relentlessly, and I sighed in anguish as his chest drew away. My eyes fluttered open in time to see him dip his hand in the spilled wine, and then he was smearing the wetness over my breasts. The action was followed quickly by his mouth and swirling tongue. It was enjoyable, the dual sensation of the cool wine and his hot mouth.

And it was all building toward a big finish.

“Maybe you should call them back,” he said, nipping at the underside of a breast. “Let them hear you coming all over my cock.”

Holy hell, I was terrified he’d make me do it.

“No.” He said it like he was correcting himself, and stood upright. His eyes were possessive. “Forget it. That sound’s only for me.”

My legs gripped at his waist and my hands clung to his forearms. The table creaked loudly beneath me, and I was gasping for breath, each one a struggle. I’d been careless and spilled the wine, and now the words spilled from me with the same recklessness. “God, Luka. It feels really good.”

I watched him break apart while he was surrounded by me. His broad shoulders pulled tight together, his eyes slammed shut, and he withdrew from me abruptly. I lay stunned as he gripped himself, pumping his fist over his dick. Ropes of thick liquid flicked onto my belly and breasts, and I flinched at the contact. There was a loud, deep groan of satisfaction, and his fist slowed. He moved until the very last drop had poured from him onto my lower abdomen, and leaned over, supporting himself on his free hand.