Lucas’s car creeps to a stop, and at the sound of his door opening and closing, the air flies out of my lungs. I embrace this moment of breathlessness, the sudden burst of uncertain excitement that hums through me. Where are we, and what have I gotten myself into? For what seems like a long time, I sit unmoving, biting my lip and grasping the hem of my shorts inside my fists as I run through a list of places he might have brought me.
When exasperation finally kicks in, and I bring my hands up to my blindfolded eyes, the passenger door swings open. Lucas clears his throat. I swear I can feel his hazel eyes burning into the side of my face. “We’re here,” he says roughly.
“Where exactly is here?”
His calloused fingers close around the smooth flesh of my wrists, and he tugs me out of the car toward him. I stumble a little, the front of one of my flip-flops bending slightly so that I feel the warm pavement on the tips of my toes, but Lucas quickly steadies me, placing his other hand on the curve of my hip. We’re chest to chest. Late night breeze whispers against our skin, but I’m not cold. Not when he’s so near to me. So close I can practically taste the spearmint on his tongue as I breathe him in.
And no matter how many times I’ve attempted to convince myself otherwise, I have missed breathing this man in.
“Lucas,” I say, my voice strained. “Where are we?”
Releasing my wrist, he trails both of his hands up my body, not stopping until his fingers rest on either side of my face. As he works his fingers beneath the silky blindfold he placed around my eyes hours ago, he touches his lips to my left ear.
“You ask so many fucking questions, Red.” Lowering the fabric, he leans back. I lift my chin so that our eyes are level. “And you look stunned.”
“No shit I’m stunned,” I say, my voice heavy with emotion. An entirely different emotion passes over his features—one that makes me uncomfortable—so I dart my gaze away from his to drink in our surroundings. Beneath the pale glow of moonlight, there’s nothing but mountains and lush trees as far as my eyes can see. The only house around is the one Lucas has parked his Audi in front of, a massive three-story cabin—twice as large as my grandmother’s place in Nashville—with floor to ceiling windows on the second level.
I give Lucas a searching look. “We didn’t leave the state?” I ask, and he nods.
“Gatlinburg,” he confirms. “I needed you all to myself, Si. I needed these two days without interruption, to win you back and make-up for my fuck-ups the right way.”
“All to yourself, huh?”
A few locks of shaggy, dark hair fall over his hazel eyes when he nods. “The way I should have done months ago.” Spinning me around so that I’m by his side, he runs his palm down the inside of my arm, lacing our fingertips together.
I hold on to him tightly, not wanting him to release my hand, to release me.
While Lucas unloads our luggage from his car, I explore the cabin’s main floor. Other than the massive stone fireplace in the center of the living room, the house has none of the usual rustic charm. From the black sectional couch that surrounds the fireplace, to the equally dark furnishings, and even to the gleaming black countertops in the kitchen, there’s something moody and sexy pulsating through the atmosphere.
It’s incredibly familiar.
I lean against the stainless steel refrigerator, my eyes scanning the open, state-of-the-art kitchen.
Then it hits me: this house reminds me of Lucas’s place in Los Angeles. I’ve only been there once, more than two years ago when he took me back to his place for what had been a catastrophe of a date, but it’s impossible to forget.
I make my way back into the living room but stop short when the front door closes. Running my fingertips across the blindfold that still hangs around my neck, I lift my eyes until they touch Lucas, who’s standing in the foyer. His back is turned to me, but even under the dim lights, I’m able to admire the muscular lines of his body, the tattoos on either of his toned arms.
“You hungry?” he asks, turning his face slightly to give me a clear view of his profile.
“No.” I take a step in his direction. “This place is absolutely amazing, Lucas.” Two more steps closer, each one making the pit of my belly clench a little more. “And I’m guessing it belongs to you.”
He turns all the way around just as I step into the foyer, and I’m struck by the soft look in his hazel eyes. Lucas Wolfe has never been the type to do emotions—well, none except for anger, disinterest, and lust. But tonight? Tonight he’s mind-fucked me.
“It’s for you,” he says.
He inches closer to me. “This house. I bought it for you. For us, Sienna. I”—he clears his throat and rubs the palm of his hand over the gorgeous angles of his face—“lost my last vacation house in a bet.”
His words catch me off guard—wrap around my heart and give it a squeeze—but he doesn’t seem to notice because he turns back toward the door and the alarm system on the wall next to it.
Just a day ago, if someone had asked whether or not I’d ever see Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe again, I would’ve laughed off the question because Lucas and I were through; he hadn’t wanted me—at least not enough to make us work—and besides, I had no place in a rock star’s world.
Lucas had sent me away just when I realized that I had fallen in love with him.
Now, standing inside of a house that he says is meant for us, I decide it’s a good thing nobody has ever asked me about the future of Lucas Wolfe and myself. My answer would’ve been wrong.
The alarm beeps twice, startling me from my thoughts, and Lucas focuses his attention on me again. His thick eyebrows knit together. “You okay, Si?” he demands. I nod, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Because, you’ve got that fucking look.”
He takes two long strides to reach me, the soles of his black Converse squeaking on the hardwood. Though I’m tall myself, I tilt my head far back to stare up at his face. He draws me into him until his mouth is a couple of inches from mine. Nervously, I run the tip of my tongue over my lips. “It’s that look like you’ve got something you want to say.”
I cross my arms over my chest, but he grabs both my wrists, pulling my body up against his. He’s all hard muscles and roughness as his gaze settles on mine. This is the first time he’s put his hands on me since he removed the blindfold, and I crave more of his touch.
Less than five hours with him, and already he’s like a drug to me.
“I’m shocked you didn’t try to screw me on the way here,” I say, and he laughs.
“Oh, I wanted to fuck you, but the steering wheel got in the way, and I wanted to do this the right way.” Without warning, he pulls the rubber band out of my high ponytail and says something under his breath when my red hair falls around my shoulders. He’s always had a thing for my hair. “Anything else you got to say?”
He places his calloused fingertips over my lips, working the tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger before moving his hands to cup the sides of my face. “Talk to me, Sienna.”
Closing my eyes, I swallow and count to five to collect my thoughts. The last thing that I want to do is ramble, making myself sound like a blubbering idiot. “You sing a song about me,” I start tentatively. His thick hair sweeps back and forth across my forehead as he nods. “Don’t get me wrong, 10 Days is the most ridiculously romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me, but then you show up at my grandma’s house. You tell me that I owe you two days and that you’ve got somewhere to take me. You bring me here, to the mountains.”
“And you told me you love me.” The last two words are said in a fierce whisper.
“Open your eyes,” he says. When I don’t immediately jump to obey him, his fingertips thread into my hair, pulling gently. Electricity hums through every part of my body. “Open your eyes,” he orders once more, this time in a soft yet dangerous voice.
This time I listen. He gives me a crooked smile and slides a few locks of my hair between his fingertips.
“I brought you here because I didn’t have the patience to wait to get you back to Los Angeles, where I should’ve taken you months ago. You’re here because I plan to enjoy every inch of your body and fuck you speechless without interruption. And you came, Sienna.” He bends his head until his mouth is just a mere centimeter away from mine. I can smell the spearmint from the gum he chewed while he was driving intermingling with the scent of the cologne he uses. It's intoxicating, and suddenly, my mouth is dry. “I brought you here because I do love you. Because I plan to love you on my terms—at least for the next few days.”
This is where he loses me. What exactly does he mean by on his terms?
Frowning, I pull away from him and step backwards to put enough distance between us to give myself a chance to think clearly. I don’t stop moving until my backside hits the bannister leading to the top floor of the cabin. He cocks his head to the side, and I reach behind me, squeezing the wood for support.
“What about my terms?” I demand as calmly as possible. “You’re not going to pull a bunch of shit on me again, Lucas. You’re not going to use me for two days, or two weeks, or however long and screw me over. I won’t let you.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Because, if you tell me to get the fuck out again, I . . . ” But my voice trails off because I don’t know what I’ll do if Lucas pulls a repeat of what had happened back in Atlanta in February. Or what happened in L.A. two years ago.
What I do know is I’d rather not have him at all if that will be the bitter reality of our relationship.
He comes over to me, this time closing me in, so it’s impossible for me to step away. With nowhere to go, I challenge his gaze. He responds by hooking his fingertips under the tight waistband of my cutoff shorts. “I’m with you now.”
He jerks me to him.
Ninety percent of my body molds against his as if we were made to do this with each other and nobody else, but I firmly lay my palm flat against his chest to prevent him from claiming my lips.
“But for how long?” I drag a harsh breath in through my nose. “How long are you with me?”
“I’m keeping you this time, Si.”
“Let me guess, you want to devour me?”
He makes a motion with his head—one that’s not quite a nod or a shake. “And for you to consume me.”
Dropping my hand away from his chest, I’m the one who makes a move to close the remaining space between our bodies. His tongue is hard as it parts my lips, and I moan. He tastes delicious. His hands explore my body roughly, possessively, and I grasp the soft cotton of his T-shirt.
“I’m. Fucking. Keeping. You,” he reiterates when we finally break apart. He tugs my bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds before releasing it and making a low noise in the back of his throat. “You taste like sin. The best kind imaginable.”
This isn’t the first time he’s told me this, but it doesn’t make it any less sexy. Now, there’s a raw desperation in Lucas’s voice that’s completely unlike him. It just makes me want him even more. “I need you.” I point my gaze up, to the top of the staircase behind us, and then back to him. “Now.”
“We should eat,” he whispers against the column of my throat, as his hand squeezes between my legs. “There’s food in the fridge.” His fingers glide beneath the hem of my shorts. “There’s—fuck, you’re wet.”
Shaking my head, I respond in a husky voice that doesn’t sound at all like me, “No food—not now, okay? Just you. Just me. Fuck me, Lucas, and then we’ll talk.”
This does the trick. His eyes sweep over me a few times, and then he nods. “Upstairs.”
Our mouths are still connected, tasting and exploring and reluctant to break apart, as we make it up the stairs. When we reach the top, I shove him against the wall. He leans his head back, gazing at me incredulously as I push the bottom of his shirt up.
“Patience is your friend,” he drawls.
Still, he’s already dragging the dark cotton over his head, revealing a chest and abs that only come from years of strict gym dedication. I touch him—trace my fingertip around the outline of the dagger-filled heart tattoo in the middle of his chest.
“Just like Google, huh?” I tease, scraping my fingernail along the last dagger. Lucas has been feeding me the “Google is your friend” line since we first met. He grabs my finger and slides it into his mouth, skimming his straight teeth along my skin.
“Exactly like Google.” Taking my hand in his, he leads me down the hallway into the master bedroom. Like the rest of the house, this room is incredibly similar to his bedroom back in Los Angeles—decorated in a startlingly erotic contrast of red and black.
He leans his tall frame against the doorway and trains his gaze on me. “Get naked,” he commands. He’s grinning—it’s a hungry look that makes me grind my teeth.
Quickly, I unbutton my shorts and shimmy them down around my hips. When they fall to the floor around my feet, his chest visibly constricts. “Do you know how many times I’ve fucking thought about you, Sienna?” he asks.
I pause, waiting for him to give me an answer, but he motions for me to continue undressing. As I drag my white tank top over my head, I hear his footsteps drawing closer. “Do you know how often I’ve woke up wanting you?” He kneels down in front of me and presses his mouth to the cotton “V” of my panties.
“No,” I breathe in a low voice.
“You want to know?”
His warm breath fans my skin when he answers me. “Every single day since you left.” He skims his hand beneath the pink fabric of my underwear and lets out a low, animalistic growl when I tremble at his touch. “I’m not letting you go this time, Sienna. There’s not even a chance.”
I nod, unable to speak. Because by the way his hands are holding on to me as if I’d disappear if he so much as let me go, I know there’s nothing in hell that will keep Lucas Wolfe away from me.
Not even Samantha.
My hands clench by my sides as he drags my panties down my hips. No, I refuse to think about his crazy ex, at least for now. There will be plenty of time for him to give me answers about her later.
Right now is for him and me.
Running my tongue across my dry lips, I find my voice and ask teasingly, “What? You going to tie me to your bed to keep me with you?”
Lucas finishes pulling the pink lace down my legs before lifting his eyes to mine. They’re full of lust and need. “Later?” he asks, and I nod. He gestures for me to step out of the panties, and I comply. “Fuck yes I’ll tie you up later.”
Though I didn’t believe it possible, even more heat pools in the pit of my stomach. “God, Lucas—” I start, but he drags me down onto the floor with him, causing me to gasp. “What are you doing?” I demand, struggling to get up. He places one of his hands firmly over my belly button to still me.
“Let me love you, Sienna.” He eases my knees apart with his body.
Of course, I know what he’s doing. I would’ve known it before I felt his tongue dart across my clit, but it still doesn’t stop me from grasping at his long dark hair.
His fingers replace his mouth, spreading my slick folds as he glances up at me with a warning expression on his face. “Do that again and I’ll tie you to that right now.” He jerks his head in the direction of the four-poster bed several feet away, in the center of the black and red bedroom that’s completely out of place in this house and yet so Lucas.
My thoughts instantly go back to several months ago, to the infamous red guitar pick he’d flicked across my breasts whenever I gritted my teeth, and I lay back, balling my fists into tight balls.
Lucas dips his head and kisses a hot trail from my stomach to my thigh and then back up again, stopping only once to touch his mouth to my center again. The way he circles his tongue makes my head spin, and when a hoarse gasp slips through my lips, he splays his hands on the insides of my thighs, digging his fingertips into my soft skin.
“I’ll never get enough of the way you taste,” he whispers in a rough voice. I prop myself up slightly on my elbows, despite how violently my body is trembling. “I want everything from you.”
There’s a part of me that wants to give him everything he asks for without asking a single question, but there’s a voice of alarm in the back of my head that tells me to slow the hell down.
“What’ll you give me back?” I murmur, digging my fingernails into my palms a little deeper. A little harder. “Everything?”
“Yes,” he says, and I feel my heart beat even more erratically. “Whatever you want.” Then he lowers his mouth back to my center, tasting and touching until I cry out and my back arches up. Whenever I grind my teeth, he sweeps the tip of his tongue hard across my clit.
“I want you,” I finally manage to say.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, Red.”
“Fuck me, Lucas.”
He meets my gaze, his hazel eyes staring up my body wickedly, and shakes his head. “Not yet.”
“Come first,” he orders, and when I open my mouth to protest, he reaches up my body and covers my lips with the very tips of his fingers as his tongue picks up speed. The sensation is incredible and intoxicating. My hands wander up to his shoulders and my fingernails scratch into his flesh instead of my own this time, digging into his skin. I’m hardly aware I’ve tangled my fingertips into his hair again until his hands leave my mouth and clamp around my wrists. He doesn’t release them until I come, until I’m writhing and moaning beneath his mouth. Even then, I’m still saying his name over and over again.
Slowly, he crawls his body up mine. He doesn’t stop until we're heart to heart and eye to eye. He’s grinning. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask the moment I’ve caught my breath. I reach out to touch the side of his face, and he grabs my hand, bringing my palm to his lips.
“Because, I want to be inside of you. Right now.”
About damn time.
He sits up, supporting his weight on his knees before he pulls the blindfold away from my neck. He dangles it on the tip of his finger for a moment, staring between it and me as if he’s trying to decide what he wants to do. Finally, he takes my hand in his and begins wrapping the fabric carefully around my wrist. “And because I plan to tie you to the bed while I do.”
“Okay,” I agree hoarsely.
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