Unstitched (7 page)

I narrowed my eyes. ‘You do?’

He laughed loudly, letting that familiar melody fondle me, then he shook his head.

‘I see,’ I said, giggling. ‘You’re a comedian as well as a singer.’

‘I try,’ he said, chest still shaking. ‘But to answer your question, I’m twenty-five.’

***

Our dishes arrived, one delicious morsel after another. As we ate oysters, crab broth, squid ink pasta and Wagyu beef, I told Lucas of me — the event planner, the seeker. He spoke of himself — the musician, the wanderer. And as we tasted sweet spoonfuls of lemon curd and
meringue, he said how fortunate it was that while I was endlessly seeking and he was aimlessly wandering, our paths crossed, and we could now share in each other’s stories and, perhaps, make a few new ones together.

I felt my throat tighten when he said that. I lowered my spoon to my plate and reached for my napkin, but Lucas placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. He stood, chair scraping softly against the polished timber, and leant across the table until his face floated but centimetres from mine. He took my lips between his own, tasting the remnants of caramelised sugar. He edged back and licked his lips, while heat burned in my cheeks and the pit of my belly. His green eyes locked with mine. ‘You taste so sweet,’ he whispered.

Oh, my.
I was in danger of falling apart and I didn’t care one bit.

Anthea

The apartment was quiet, dark. I flicked on some lights. ‘Come on,’ I said to Lucas. ‘I’ll make us a coffee.’

I gestured to one of the empty stools lining the bench. Lucas took a seat and I started on grinding coffee beans.

‘Do you live here on your own?’ Lucas asked.

‘No way. I’d never be able to afford an apartment like this on my own. Two girlfriends rent with me.’

‘You like living with them?’

I nodded, smiling. ‘They’re my best friends.’ Small talk. Distracting small talk to avoid the roaring storm of sexual tension coating the room with lust so dense you could see it drizzling down the walls. ‘I’ve known Roslyn since grade three and Rachel since my first day of high school.’ I grabbed milk from the fridge and poured it into a metal jug. ‘We know everything there is to know about each other.’

‘You’re very lucky.’

I turned to face him. ‘I know.’

Lucas looked at me, deep into me, his full lips subtly parted and I had to remind myself how to breathe. I couldn’t turn away from him. He stood then, his enormous frame filling the space in the tiny kitchen. No words, just silence, as he walked to me with long powerful limbs. My body buzzed as I held fast to his glorious green eyes. I was combustible, and he was my fuel. I was burning hotter and hotter the closer he came.

He took my waist and my muscles jerked under his firm touch. His eyes were screaming wicked desire. So fucking sexy, that chiselled jaw and strong nose. He pushed me back towards the bench as his face neared mine, his breath mingling with my own. Heat and his musky scent swarmed around me. I parted my lips wanting to taste his sweet-as-honey mouth, but then his bear hands gripped my hips harder and he hoisted me up, sat me on the bench. My thighs parted, he nestled between them as though that was exactly where he belonged. Steady movements, emerald eyes boring into mine, he slowly loosened my belt. One tedious button after the other, he unfastened my jacket until he could peel it from my shoulders.

I lifted my hands, fingers tingling. I wanted to touch him so much it made me ache, a deep throb in my centre. My palms pressed against his chest, then my fingers. Hard mounds of muscle under the fabric met my touch. My God he was stacked. I heard his breath shudder, or was it mine? He broke his gaze, eyes trailing slowly downwards. His hands roved from my hips to my thighs, sparks igniting my flesh with every inch gained.

I could never have anticipated my body to respond so wildly — for my desire to steam from my pores, mist my skin, and paint my inner-thighs with slick longing. I curled my pelvis, pushed against him. It was impulsive, animalistic, pure instinct. He rumbled from his chest as his thick rigidity met my centre.

Lucas cupped my cheeks with his hands and his face drifted towards mine, his lips hesitating, barely a fraction short of my own, taunting. He breathed in, shaky, then his warm breath fanned down my face, jaw, lower, until fluttering lips were against my collarbone and delicately tracing its length. My fingers strayed under his shirt to caress his strong chest and
over his ripped stomach. His flesh was warm, taut. Muscles quivered, imploring me to touch him more, firmer.

My heart was drumming double pace, my head dizzy. All rationality and self-constraint short-circuited as I fought for each breath. His soft lips edged up my neck, biting, kissing, setting my skin ablaze. Hands fell to my hips and glided upwards, over my aching breasts. My nipples, hard against my bra, throbbed under his thumbs. And still he edged higher, over my shoulders, my neck, until again he took my face between his gentle grasp and looked deep into my eyes. He parted his lips to speak, but said nothing. My God, he didn’t have to, I could hear the fervour in his gaze. Instead he sucked in a harsh breath and kissed me — gluttonous, with sighs, tongue, and heat. I moaned into his mouth…

A piercing scream exploded through the near silence of the kitchen. My heart thudded as I jerked and threw my head backwards thumping it hard against the kitchen cabinets overhead.

I had no idea what had just happened, until I heard Roslyn’s frantic voice. ‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry. You scared me. I didn’t know you were home yet.’

Lucas had spun when Roslyn screamed and stood with his body protectively in front of mine. I peeked around him, my hands trembling, to find Roslyn standing in her dressing gown, face lined with distress.

‘Shit, Anthea, you’re bleeding,’ she cried.

I couldn’t feel the throbbing pain before she said that. I touched the crown of my head, right where pain stung the most. It was wet, and when I looked at my shaking fingers, they were stained red. Slippery warmth slid down my cheek.

‘Ouch,’ I whined. ‘Why the hell did you scream, Ros? You scared me half to death!’

Lucas grabbed paper towel from the bench, unravelled a few sheets, folded them into a wad and pressed it against my skull. The gentle pressure hurt like fuck. He grabbed some more and began mopping the blood from my face.

Roslyn pulled her gown tighter around her middle. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be here. And then I saw you both. I was…frightened.’

‘Are you okay, Anthea?’ asked Lucas.

I winced. ‘It stings, but I’m fine, I think.’

‘Let me take a look. In case you need stitches.’

‘What’s going on here?’ boomed a male voice.

My heart jolted. I snapped my head towards the doorway: Brendt, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, holding a golf club over his shoulder ready to take a swing, every muscle straining.

‘Brendt, it’s okay. It’s only us. I overreacted,’ said Roslyn quickly, forcing him to lower the club.

His eyes were wide as he took in the scene — a strange man holding a red, bloody wad to my head, the scent of copper in the air, and Roslyn dressed only in her dressing gown. ‘I heard a scream. And yelling. What happened here?’

‘I came into the kitchen for a drink. I didn’t know Anthea was home yet. I screamed because they startled me,’ said Roslyn, her voice unusually high.

‘You scared the fucking shit out of me. I didn’t know what was going on!’ he roared.

Lucas helped me off the bench, still holding the towelling to my cut. The pain was easing, but my heart was still racing out of control. I had to lean against him for support.

‘Oh, my God, what’s going on?’ shrieked Rachel. She was in her flimsy nightie. Wide, frantic eyes darted from Brendt to me, to Lucas and back to Brendt. Brendt took Rachel’s shoulders and explained, calmly, what had happened.

‘What happened to you, Anthea? Why is your head bleeding?’ she asked.

‘I hit my head on the cupboards.’

‘How the hell did you do that?’

Blush crept up my neck. ‘Never mind.’

Rachel looked down at the golf club in Brendt’s hand. The corners of her lips curled upwards. Her shoulders jerked as a giggle escaped. ‘No-one would believe us if we told them about this,’ she said, now in full-blown laughter.

Roslyn smiled then snorted. ‘It is kinda funny.’

Despite the throbbing in my head and perhaps from slight concussion, I could see the hilarity of the situation and I giggled, which set Brendt off, which in turn set Roslyn off again then Lucas behind me, his chest vibrating. Our laughter grew delirious, complete with snorts and sobs and crying. Roslyn was cracking up so hard tears were streaming down her cheeks as she recounted the scene from start to finish, over and over, never able to form the words needed to recall the point where Brendt ran out in his boxer shorts, golf club hovering over his shoulder.

I breathed in deeply and wiped the tears from my eyes. My head was killing me and it didn’t help that every time I smiled the skin tightened making it worse.

‘Now that you’re all here,’ I said, still giggling. ‘I guess the polite thing to do is to introduce you to my date.’

They nodded, wiping at their face and eyes, taking deep breaths. I introduced them to Lucas one by one, finishing with Roslyn.

Rachel peered down at her flimsy nightie and blushed. ‘I assure you we don’t always act like this, or dress like this.’ She wrapped her arms around her middle. ‘Seeing as everything’s under control, I’m going back to bed because I’m freezing. You coming, Brendt?’

‘In a sec, babe. You go. I’ll be in soon.’

‘Night, everyone.’

Roslyn looked at the bloody wad on my head and sighed. ‘I’m really sorry, Anthy.’

I shrugged. ‘You didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for yelling at you.’

‘We’re all a little shaken. Don’t worry about it. But you better let Lucas take a look. We may need to take you to the hospital for stitches.’

I groaned. I really, really didn’t want stitches or that painful cold needle.

‘I won’t hurt, I promise,’ Lucas said, as he carefully released the makeshift gauze. ‘Now bend a little so I can get a good look.’ I did and he parted my hair, his fingers gentle as he assessed the severity of the injury. ‘It looks fine. It’s not big enough to warrant stitches. The bleeding’s stopped. You’ll have a sore head for a few days, that’s all.’

Brendt came over and edged Lucas out the way with his strong body. ‘I better take a look. Just to make sure. You don’t want to wake up tomorrow having required stitches tonight.’ He carefully spread strands of my hair from side to side and cleared his throat. ‘Yeah. It looks fine. Only a small split that will heal over in no time.’

I straightened up and sighed. ‘Thanks, guys.’

Brendt spun to face Roslyn. ‘Perhaps next time you should be a little less hasty to assume the worst.’ His voice was harsh and deep.

Roslyn laughed, indignant. ‘You ought to talk. I’m not the one who ran in with a golf stick.’

‘Well, if you hadn’t screamed like a fucking banshee, I wouldn’t have had to, and Anthea wouldn’t have nearly cracked her head open.’

Roslyn took a step closer, planted her hands on her hips. She narrowed her eyes and through scowling lips said, ‘What’s your problem, Brendt? I said I was sorry. There isn’t much more I can do. It’s not like I purposely set out to hurt anyone. I was scared. I screamed. Simple as that.’

‘Brendt, it’s okay,’ I said. ‘I’m okay. It was an accident.’

Brendt tensed his lips, then smiled apologetically. ‘I just hate seeing you…’ his eyes darted to Roslyn, ‘I hate to see any of you girls getting hurt.’

I smiled. ‘Thank you. But I promise I’m okay. Really.’

‘Do you need me to get you some paracetamol, apply some antiseptic or something?’

Lucas tensed as he stepped in beside me, placed an arm around my waist. ‘Thanks, Brendt. I’m sorry we got you up out of bed in the middle of the night when you have to work tomorrow. But I’m sure I’ll be able to help Anthea from here on out if she needs anything.’

Brendt nodded slowly, shrugged one shoulder. ‘Right. Yeah, of course. Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’m going back to bed.’

‘See you tomorrow,’ I said.

‘Sure thing.’ And he strode out of the kitchen.

Roslyn rolled her eyes and huffed. ‘Talk about freakin’ overreact. Anyway, I might get back to bed as well. I’ll leave you guys to it. Once again, Lucas, it was really great to meet you.’

‘Yeah, you too, Roslyn. I’ll see you next time.’

Lucas pulled me into his embrace and kissed my forehead. ‘You’re feeling okay?’

‘I’m fine. Just a little tender.’ I pressed lightly against the bump on my head.

Lucas’s features tensed. ‘I want to apologise for before.’

My eyebrows arched high. ‘It’s not your fault I hit my head.’

‘No. I mean for getting carried away with you before all that even happened.’

I pressed my teeth into my bottom lip. ‘Then I guess I need to apologise too, because I’m also a guilty party.’

He ran his hands up and down my arms, goose bumps wakening under his touch. ‘We really need to do this the right way. You know — nice and slow.’

I breathed in deeply. ‘So what does that mean exactly?’

‘It means we take it easy for now.’

‘Right. Easy.’ Although, I wasn’t entirely convinced how easy I could take it with Lucas. Perhaps if he hadn’t only moments ago kissed me the way he did, or ignited my body with his hands, then he might be simpler to resist.

He kissed my cheek quickly. ‘I better get going.’

My heart sank all the way to the pit of my belly. ‘Sure.’

‘I had a lot of fun tonight.’

I managed a smile. ‘Me too.’

‘Talk soon?’

‘Yep.’

He kissed my mouth, lingering for a moment too long, yet nowhere near long enough and walked to the foyer, waving once as he stepped in the lift and the doors closed, thieving him from me.

***

While I showered, Lucas consumed my mind. He ate up every thought, even the throbbing of my bruised head. My muscles were firing, my veins tingling as I recalled how he tasted, how he smelt, how his hands felt…