Luke's Absolution (The Colloway Brothers Book 3) (15 page)

Luke’s body shakes as he tries to contain himself. “How about you pour the wine? Can you handle that?”

“Wine?”

“Yes, you know. The alcohol made from grapes.”

“Smart-ass.”

“We going down that road, Addy? Really?”

“Fine. Wine I can handle.”

Wine? What the hell am I thinking? The last thing I need is more alcohol to lower my inhibitions—as if his intoxicating scent isn’t enough to make me want to strip naked right here. The pheromones coming off this man constantly swirl in the air around him, making me lust-drunk and it’s not even his fault. I think he was injected with an extra dose of sexiness when he was created.

I walk around him to the sink and wash the onion off me, internally panicking at how much I like this feeling of just
being
with Luke. When I take the towel from his shoulder to dry my hands, I’m nearly frozen with the look of heat and want I see blazing from him. Clearing my throat, I retrieve the wine from the fridge and take a few deep breaths while my back is turned, wondering how I’m going to keep resisting this incredibly sexy man for much longer. Or even why I’m trying.

He could have easily tried seducing me any number of nights this week, but he hasn’t, which is confusing and endearing at the same time. We haven’t spent a lot of time together since he threw down his battle words. We’ve watched TV together a few nights this past week, him on his side of the couch, me in the chair, so I wasn’t tempted to crawl over to him like a cat in heat and rub myself all over his corded body. It was cordial, comfortable, actually, if I’m being completely honest.

We trade barbs because that’s our thing, although it’s with far less bite now than it was even two days ago. It’s almost like a ridiculous mating dance that starts in grade school on the playground. Boy likes girl, pulls her hair. Girl likes boy, sticks out her tongue at him. Makes no sense, but it’s how the game is played nonetheless.

Only this is no game and I already know that. Luke doesn’t strike me as the type to play games; he plays for keeps. He makes me feel things I never thought possible. He makes me feel like I
matter
. Every layer of him I uncover, I just want more.

And regardless of how much I’m fighting this, deep down, there’s that tingle low in my belly that’s thrilled that
I’m
his target, that
I’m
the one he wants to keep.

Me
. Addy Monroe.

A
ddy sets
two glasses of wine down on the counter, a nice South African chardonnay I’ve picked out to pair with the salmon. I much prefer beer, but even though we’re staying in, I admit I wanted to impress her. As I watched her cut that damn onion—or
attempt
to cut it—all I could think of was how
right
this all feels. I never thought I would like domestic, but shit, I do. A helluva lot.

She takes a seat across the island and her scent, a combination of perfume and her own uniqueness, hits my nose and my cock jumps. Fuck, maybe I should have taken her out instead of staying in. That way, I wouldn’t be tempted to strip her down, throw her on the closest surface, and fuck her into admitting she belongs with me.

Who am I kidding? The setting wouldn’t matter. I want to fuck her anywhere and everywhere all the damn time.

As much as I want to act out every wicked fantasy running through my head, I can’t and I won’t. Not now. She’s still skittish, even though she’s coming around, and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the progress I’ve made with her the past few weeks.

“So what are you making?” she asks. She hums in appreciation when she takes a sip of her wine, making me smile. And harder, if that’s possible. Since she walked through the door, I’ve been trying to discreetly adjust my raging erection to a place that’s more comfortable. It’s not working too well. Thank God for the apron.

“
We’re
making pomegranate-and-orange-glazed salmon, Mediterranean rice, and steamed broccoli. Chocolate chip cannolis for dessert—I picked those up at a little bakery on my way home, because they take quite a bit of time to make.”

“Wow. Everything sounds great. Except the broccoli.”

“Not a big greens fan?”

“No, I like greens just fine, just not broccoli.” She makes the cutest damn face, wrinkling up her nose. “It’s stupid, really.”

“Sounds like a story there,” I say, chopping a few cloves of garlic in short order as she watches in fascination. My knife skills are impressive, I’ll admit it. If that’s all it takes to impress her, then hot damn. We’ll be spending every fucking meal in this kitchen and she’ll be mine by next Wednesday.
Why didn’t I think of this before?

“Yeah. So when I was seven, my dad was cutting up some veggies. I picked up a piece of raw broccoli and popped it in my mouth. Eric freaked, telling me it was poisonous and that I was going die, so, of course,
I
was hysterical. My dad finally had to get our neighbor, who was a doctor, so she could assure me I would be just fine. Eric got in a whole heap of trouble, but permanent psychological damage was already done. Broccoli equals death to me.”

She laughs and I laugh along with her. Eric was always a prankster and it appears he started at a mighty young age. “Shit. That’s cruel. Eric’s played one or two nasty tricks on me.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s never lived it down. I’ve gotten him back tenfold, believe me.”

“Why am I not shocked that vengeance lurks deep within your soul?”

“I don’t know. You shouldn’t be,” she winks flirtatiously. Taking another sip of wine, she rolls her eyes slightly. Fuck…I want to be the one to make her eyes roll back in pleasure. Even though it’s not intentional, she’s making it very hard to keep my hands to myself right now.

Willing my dick down and trying to get my mind back on dinner, I set a grater and lemon in front of her, describing how to grate the lemon rind we’ll need for the rice.

“You still want my help?” she asks, surprised.

“Can’t learn if you don’t do, fireball.”

She eyes the grater as if it has spikes dipped in poison.

“It’s fine, babe. This is easy, I promise.”

“Okay, but no more dicing. And if you get any of my skin mixed in with the lemon, don’t blame me.”

I chuckle. She really didn’t do
that
badly. “Fair enough. We’ll work on chopping again next time.”

“Next time?”

The look of hopefulness on her face slays me. Has no one ever treated this woman the way she deserves? More and more, I’m starting to think the answer is no and while I don’t think I’m good enough for her, what does that say about the other losers who have come before me?

“Yes, baby. Next time,” I tell her softly.

Because there will be a next time. I think we both know there’s only one way this thing between us is going. The forever kind.

We stand there for a few stolen moments, our eyes locked in silent conversation. I hope she gets what I’m telling her. I meant my declaration of war. I want her and I’ll do anything to have her. I just need to convince
her
of that.

The next hour is spent working together side by side, talking about our businesses, our childhoods, our siblings. I don’t miss how she speaks about her brother and her dad with affection yet doesn’t mention her mom at all, even though I know she’s still alive. And whenever the topic of my father comes up, I skirt it like the fucking expert I am. Guess we both have a fucked-up parental gene pool to some degree.

After dinner, I take her hand and lead her to the couch. Pulling her down beside me, I settle her in the crook of my arm. I’m not letting her slink away to the chair like she’s done for the last week when we’re in the same room.

In short order, I have a movie streaming. God bless technology. It just continues to make us lazier and lazier. Whoops, I meant easier.

“What’s this?” she asks.

“You haven’t seen
National Lampoon’s Vacation
?” I ask, tugging her close, kissing the crown of her head.

“Not in its entirety, no.”

“What? That’s almost sacrilegious, fireball. Stick with me, babe, I’ll open up a whole new world for you.”

“I have no doubt you will.” Her voice goes soft and her head tilts up. When I tilt mine down, our lips are mere inches away. Her eyes are glazed with such need, the urge to introduce her back to the couch, strip her down, and fuck her until she’s a sated, sweaty mess is almost too overwhelming to ignore. But as much as I want her to be ready right now, she’s not. And the next time I’m inside of her, the dancing she’s doing will stop. She will be mine and there will be no turning back for either of us.

There’s already no turning back for me.

“Stop looking at me like that, fireball,” I growl lowly. “I’m trying to do the right thing here by following your cues.”

“Sorry,” she breathes, turning her attention back to the TV. I shove down my disappointment that I won’t be inside of her tonight. Instead, I just enjoy the fact I’m holding her in my arms and she’s not fighting it. It’s progress.

We relax and watch the movie, and when she lays down, putting her head in my lap halfway through, I harden involuntarily. It takes several minutes to get in control of my body, but I finally wrangle the big guy down enough that I can touch her the way I want. I run my fingers hypnotically through her hair, lulling her to sleep.

I gently lift and carry her to her room, wishing it were my bed she was sleeping in tonight instead. As I lay her down she wakes, blinking up at me lazily. My God, she steals my very breath away sometimes.

“Guess I didn’t make it to the end, huh?”

“Nope. We’ll try again.” I kiss her softly on the forehead, letting my lips linger too long, wanting to do so much more. I stand and look down at this beautiful woman I long to call mine and my heart swells with all kinds of new and different feelings.

“Thanks for dinner,” she says softly.

“You helped,” I remind her.

“I did, didn’t I?” she replies with a smile so magnificent it could light up the night’s sky.

Jesus, I am so gone for her. I want nothing more than to crawl in bed beside her and hold her all night long, but for once, I’m trying to do the honorable thing.

Unfortunately, my cock doesn’t feel quite the same. He’s ramming against my zipper, declaring outright mutiny, and has recruited the twins below, who are probably so blue they look like Smurfs by now. They’re drawn tightly against him in a show of solidarity.

I’ll deal with them later.

“Night, Addy,” I croak.

“Night, Luke.”

I force myself to turn and walk away, telling my feet to get a fucking move on, compelling them to take step after step. I’m almost to the door when she calls after me. “What’s this?”

I look back to see she’s holding the stuffed French bulldog I bought her as a surprise, leaving it on her bed earlier today. Yeah, that lock she uses to keep me out could use a lot of reinforcement, kind of like the one she keeps around her heart. And she thinks I’m closed off? Pot, kettle. All I’m gonna say.

“Well, I couldn’t convince the supe to give in on the no dogs policy, so...”

I don’t miss the water in her eyes before she looks back down at the fluffy white animal in her slightly trembling hands, studying it like some foreign object.

“You bought me a stuffed animal?” Her soft voice is barely audible. Full of wonder. I want to tell her I’d do anything for her. A stuffed animal is meaningless, but by the way she’s looking at the damn thing, you’d think I handed her the key to immortality instead.

“Yeah. I know it’s not exactly what you wanted. It’s the best I could do for now.”

“Thank you,” she chokes. A lone tear runs down her cheek, which she unashamedly lets me see.

I want nothing more than to march back over and show her just exactly how much she means to me, but if I lay a finger on her now, I won’t be able to stop myself. Addy’s so much more lost than she lets people believe. I see through all the bullshit and it fucking kills me that no one has given her what she’s deserved before.

I smile gently. “You’re welcome, Addy. Night.”

“Night, Luke.”

I turn back toward the door, shutting it on my way out. Each step I take away from her is filled with pain. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to do the right thing, which is to leave.

My heart knows it’s the right thing, but my cock wholeheartedly disagrees.

T
wo hours
and one sad hand job later, I’m drifting in and out of a light sleep when I sense a presence in my room. I look toward the door to see Addy standing at the threshold. A crack of lightning, followed closely by a loud boom of thunder has her jumping a foot in the air. It’s only then I register the sound of heavy rain battering against my window. Guess I was in a heavier sleep than I realized.

I sit up, holding out my hand to her. “You afraid of storms, baby?”

Another crack of lightning has her quickly crossing the room, taking it, and sliding into my bed. She presses tightly against me, throwing a leg over mine, and I don’t miss the fact she’s only wearing a tank and tiny panties. The feel of her bare skin against me is almost nirvana. I only wish there were more of it. I normally sleep in the buff, but tonight had the foresight to put on my boxer briefs instead.

Believe you me, I’m regretting that fucking decision right about now.

“Stupid, I know.”

I shake off my lascivious thoughts, trying to remember what we were talking about. Oh, yeah. Storms. “Not stupid. Everyone’s afraid of something.”

Snuggling closer, as if that’s even humanly possible, she asks, “What are you afraid of?”

Other than not making you mine?
I’m not sure I’ve ever been so afraid of anything in my entire life than not having this woman.

“Sharks,” I confess instead. I’ve not told a single person outside of Addy of my fear of sharks, except my twin of course.

She laughs. “Sharks?”

“Hey. I didn’t laugh at you.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she chuckles lightly. “It’s just a pretty weird thing for a landlocked person to be afraid of. What happened? You have a nasty encounter with a hammerhead at Sea World or something?”

“Nah. Nothing like that. You’ve seen
Jaws
, right?”

“Of course,” she answers indignantly.

I chuckle, tightening my hold, enjoying her warmth seeping into me. “Well, you understand I had to ask. You haven’t seen the classic Chevy Chase’s
Vacation
, so I have to question your cinematic exposure.”

She punches me in the stomach and it actually hurts a bit. “Ouch. You have a wicked left hook, fireball.”

“You’ve met my brother, yes?”

“He’s a good man.”

“He is. He’s also a good teacher of self-defense. So…sharks.” She starts drawing little circles on my chest. Sheer grit is all that stifles a guttural groan sitting in the back of my throat. I reach up, taking her hand in mine before I do something stupid and she ends up underneath me, filled to the brim with my raging manhood. I don’t think she has a fucking clue what she does to me. If she did, she’d be cowering alone in her own room right now, storm or not. If she moves her leg up about another three inches, she’s going to feel firsthand exactly how her nearness affects me.

I clear my throat, hoping the thick lust that’s lodged there dissipates somewhat. “Yes, sharks.” Not quite, but I continue anyway. “When I was eleven, Gray and I spent the night with a buddy. It was summer and there were several of us. We had the run of the basement. Came across
Jaws
on TV. Everyone was stoked to watch it, of course, but I didn’t want to. I was already irrationally scared of the ocean, even though I’d never been and
Jaws
scared the living piss out of me. I dreamed of blood and body parts for weeks. Honestly, weeks. I was even afraid to go in the pool for the rest of the summer, even though you could see clean to the bottom and logically I knew there were no sharks in there. Told my mom I had warts.”

I feel her smile against my chest. “Have you been to the ocean?”

Lightning strikes again; this time, the thunder takes a few seconds longer to reach us and I hear the rain has lightened up a bit. Still, every time it cracks, her body trembles.

“Been there twice, but never got in. What about you? Why are you so afraid of storms?”

“You really want to know?”

“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, babe.” I feel her chest expand against my side before I feel her hot breath drizzle over me.
Fuck
.

“Okay. Well, I was five and it was summer. My mom always insisted on putting me to bed early enough that it was still light out. She never let me stay up late no matter how much I begged. I had to lie in bed and listen to the other kids laughing and playing outside, so one night, I snuck out of the house. I remember it was incredibly easy and wondered why I hadn’t done it before.

“Instead of playing with my friends, I walked to the park only about three blocks away. Even at five, I knew how to get there. Take a lefty loosey out of the driveway and keep walking until I see the park. I honestly don’t know how long I was there before the storm rolled in, but I distinctly remember swinging on the swings and going down the slide so many times I lost count. I didn’t realize it was getting darker and darker and it had nothing to do with the sun setting and everything to do with a bad storm rolling in.

“When the rain started falling, lightly at first, I did the typical kid thing. I held my head back and my arms out and twirled in a circle, hoping I could catch some stray drops in my mouth. But then the rain picked up and it started stinging my skin. I think in retrospect it was hail. Then I heard them. The sirens. And I knew what they meant. I was in trouble and instead of trying to run home, I took shelter in this circular cement tube on the playground. If you got enough kids in there and we all pushed with our legs, the momentum made it spin. I used to love that thing,” she says wistfully.

She pauses, her body stiffening. “It’s okay, baby,” I whisper, tightening my grip on her. I palm her scalp and massage lightly, which relaxes her.

“The sound of the hail hitting the cement and sirens echoing off the insides, along with the thunder, was deafening. I was sure I was going to die. Then I heard my dad. He had come for me and found me huddled there, sobbing. We rode the storm out there together. I found out later a tornado had touched down only six blocks from our house. Killed three people.”

Her voice drops so low I have to strain to hear the rest of the story. “When we walked through the door, all I remember is my mom screaming at my dad. She didn’t want him to go out and find me. She was more concerned about something happening to him and what would she do without him, blah, blah, blah. I may have been only five, but I knew my mom was selfish, and that day literally broke my spirit. What kind of mother would voluntarily let her kid be caught in a storm? A dangerous one at that? As you can probably tell, I’m not close with her. She hasn’t changed in the slightest all these years. And I think that was the beginning of the end for my parents. My dad was furious with her.”

“Oh, Addy. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“No need to be sorry. Luck of the draw, I guess.”

“Yes, I know all about that.”

“Who?” She doesn’t have to elaborate. I know what she’s asking.

“My father,” I confess softly.

She doesn’t ask any more questions and for that I’m grateful. Addy and I are more alike than she knows. We both had parents who were disappointments to us, who let us down. I realize parents are people too, with imperfections like the rest of us, yet some things they do are simply unforgivable.

I can’t blame Addy for her animosity toward her mom, just like I can’t forgive my dad for his indiscretions, for his affair.

We’ve fallen quiet before I notice it’s no longer raining. There’s only an occasional flash of light through the darkness, and I can’t even hear the rumble of thunder anymore.

Addy must notice, too, because she pushes off me and starts to sit up. “Well, uh, I should…go. Thanks for letting me lie here with you.”

“No, stay,” I say, tugging her back down to me.

“I should let you get some sleep,” she mumbles into my chest, her hot breath skittering across my skin.

“I sleep better when you’re in my arms.”

She snorts. “That can’t be true.”

Flipping her on her back, I hover above her, balancing on my forearms so I don’t crush her. Her hands are pinned beneath mine.

“What have I done to give you the impression I’m anything less than sincere in the way I feel about you?”

It takes her a few seconds to answer. “I’ve known guys like you my whole life.”

Fucking pisses me off she’s lumping me into the same loser category. See, this right here is the problem. She’s projecting her past failures onto me and unless I can get her to see I’m not like the other assholes who’ve come before me, this is going to be over before it even has a chance to get started. If they were stupid enough to let an incredible woman like Addy go, they deserve to live a life in bland shadows of grey.
Me?
I plan on living my life in color.

“I can guarantee you’ve never met anyone like me, fireball.”

“You’re awfully arrogant,” she retorts with a slight bite.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t make it any less true.” I choose to take a different tactic, hoping I can break through her stubbornness. “Look, I’m all in here. I got nothing left to hide and I’ve fallen for you, Addy, harder than a landslide. I could lose the game and I’d still be all in tonight. Hell, I’m all in for life.”

When she laughs I know I’ve hit a home run. “Oh my God. That sounds like something from Lifehouse.”

“Hmmm…” I scrunch my eyebrows together, feigning confusion. “I thought that sounded familiar.” She shakes her head, but her grin doesn’t fade. And her eyes? They glitter like starlight. “Maybe I did paraphrase, but I don’t know a better way to make you understand how I feel about you. I’m genuine here in my quest to win you. I like you, Addy. A
lot
. Kill the shields, babe.”

“Luke…” she whispers breathlessly. Christ, the sound of submission sounds sweet rolling off her usually spiked tongue.

Her smile is now replaced with acute longing and my cock hardens painfully. You know that honor I mentioned earlier? Suddenly he’s become a very slippery fucker.

I may not be able to fuck her tonight, because of my perhaps misplaced honorable intentions, but I do plan on kissing her, pouring every emotion I’m feeling into it, and showing her exactly how much she means to me.

While keeping my hands pressed to her face, lest they wander somewhere hot and wet that will cause my nobility to evaporate, I press an unhurried, soft, and sweet kiss to her lips, which is in complete contrast to the way I want to take her right now. Hard, rough, and fast.

When I tease her mouth open, our tongues duel lazily as I deepen my strokes. Her hands, which are becoming more urgent with each passing second, are now roaming over my shoulders, neck, back, nails scoring me lightly, causing me to groan. She shifts under me, spreading her legs, and my pounding erection nestles smack dab in her hot center. He jumps up and down excitedly, thinking he’s going to get in on the action. Once again, he’s going to be sorely disappointed.

Our hips are now undulating and I am all too aware that only two thin scraps of fabric separate me from having her. I grab her pelvis firmly to halt her movements and drag my mouth to her jaw, her ear, and down her throat, lightly biting the sensitive indentation where her neck meets her shoulder. Her breathy moans almost completely unravel my good intentions.

With willpower I didn’t know I possessed, I flip onto my back, bringing her with me and tuck her into my side. I try to get both my breathing and my cock under control as I blink up at the ceiling thinking of contracts and stakeouts and cleaning my gun.
Anything
but how much I want to be inside her right now.

“Is something wrong?” she pants.

Wrong? No, other than I want to fuck you into the next state.
She’s breathless just like me and sounds genuinely confused. Fuck me. Doing the right thing is excruciatingly hard sometimes.

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” That thick lust has relodged, causing me to sound almost hoarse.

“Don’t you want to…?”

The words hang in the air like bubbles above her head waiting to be filled in with any number of things. I can think of a dozen carnal, wicked ways to complete that sentence in just seconds. If I take her now, though, I’ll be undoing everything I’ve worked for these past two weeks. She’ll think this was all a ploy to get into her pants again and while my entire body is aching for that release, I need her to understand—no,
believe
—there’s so much more to what we’ve started.

I want it all.

Everything.

“Addy, fuck. I
want
. I ache with want. What I
need
is for you to believe that I’m in this for more than just sex. Don’t get me wrong, I desperately want that, but I want so much more. If I slip my dick inside you right now, you’ll question it. And I don’t want you questioning my intentions. I don’t want you questioning
us
.”

I know I’ve done the right thing when she responds quietly, “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before, Luke.”

“I’m glad you’re finally starting to realize that.” I know she can hear the smile in my voice because she snorts. It’s cute and endearing, like everything else about her. “Stay,” I demand.

After only a brief hesitation this time, she gives in.
Sweet progress
. “All right.”