Luca (I Love the Way You Lie #1) (30 page)

The sky was magically clear. There’s nothing like a full moon on a warm summer’s night. It makes our minds quick to fall into a dream. Whispering thoughts make beautiful dreams, and Luca’s whispers make my heart come to life.

He’s an aching darkness for my lonely star. His flicker and emotions run high, and I delightfully bathed in them. I looked up into the sky as I waited for him. The stars above were out fully to see us below. I smiled at my silly thoughts as I waited for him. His hard truths of love had pummeled my chest all day with his essence deep inside of me. The words ‘I love you’ finally came, still stabbing my tender heart. My muscles were still protesting into synchrony, throbbing from his ministrations. I burned still. My body heated and ached for more of him. I longed for his eyes as he took me, filling me, stretching me, and pleasuring repeatedly. I was in love with him—wholeheartedly.

I decided to run and freshen up while waiting for him. I check my watch. He was never late. However, I knew his business, and his business was intense.

A hard distant knock sounded. “Come in,” I yelled over my shoulder.

The door swung open with a push. Luca. He stood in a suit, formidable at the door. I threw down my lipstick and ran to him, hugging him tightly and drawing his scent in deep, feeding my nerves that craved him.

“Ugh, I’m so glad you’re here.” I walked back over to my vanity, grabbing the lipstick I threw.

He met my eyes through the mirror and turned, looking to the ground.

“What…what’s wrong?”

He never met my eyes and I knew it was bad. Maybe his dad? A deal fell through? I knew how he was, and how he took everything to heart.
My emotional bumper-car,
I thought, looking up at him.

“Truth?” he asked, shaking me off him. This scared me. My heart raced, and for the first time in a good long while, I was frightened.

“Always,” I answered quickly, trying to keep my nerves in check. I wanted this over as quickly as possible. We had a party to enjoy, friends, as some close associates. I looked forward to unwinding with him over cocktails.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” he said, turning away from me.

My hand easily turned him around to face me. “Tell me…”

He couldn’t. His eyes focused on his scuffed shoes. What the fuck happened to him? His bloody hands balled at his sides.

“This relationship isn’t functional for me anymore,” he said seriously, and I almost laughed.
Yeah, right,
I thought
.
I reached his lip in a chaste kiss. But then his face turned ashen—white. “It’s nothing you’ve done. It’s because of me and my fucked up head. I thought I could do this with you, but I can’t…”

My head started to spin. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe…

I grabbed my throat, searching for the source of pain. However, he was in front of me, telling me something I couldn’t make sense of. “What are you saying, Luca?” My eyes welled as I tried to push it back. I couldn’t. The pain in my heart increased, keeping the blood from reaching my brain.

I went to him, throwing my arms around his neck. I needed to hold on to something. He pried my arms off, leaving them to hang loosely at my sides. “I thought I was in love with you, but I’m not. It turns out it was just seven years of wishful thinking. A lie I desperately wanted to believe… I’m sorry.” Tears ran down his stone face. And yet, he still seemed unmoved, uncaring, cold, and gone…

He let the tears flow freely, not willing to wipe them away. Streaks of salt glistened on his face as he continued. “I wanted it to be the same as it was when we were kids. However, unfortunately…I feel nothing for you as an adult.” The sweat dotted his hairline and his own words caused him to stammer back, his face skewing as he forced the words out. He walked to the window, his breath ragged as he gripped the frame. “My heart is completely fucked up…and not even you can fix it.” He blinked, watching me. He looked…bored. As if this was the most natural conversation in the world.

My breath doubled, nearly crippling me. I felt faint. He walked to the other side of the office.

“Why are you doing this to me…to
us
? You don’t mean it…” My voice pleaded with him. Trying to appeal to the man in knew. However, my sobs kicked in, racketing through my body.

“Sven. You know we’ve always been competitive. I just wanted to prove to him that I could beat him, even after seven years,” he said, his eyes barely meeting mine for a second before flitting off around me. “I guess I won.” His eyes were dead. Cold, hard, and callousness replaced them. My eyes closed, wishing death to come soon. Surely, it couldn’t be worse than this. “You got under my skin—a scratch that needed itching. So I itched it.” His voice shook and I looked at him. Really looked at him, and his body language didn’t convey the same sentiments his mouth did.

I got angry. No. No. No. No fucking way was this happening.

“I don’t believe you. Look at you… You’re crying and shaking. You’re nothing but a fucking coward. How can you do this to me? Answer me!” I stood there, meeting his eyes. They weren’t telling the truth. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t my Luca. This was a pained, empty carcass of him, forcing himself through the horrid motions of pushing me away.

His anger flared and he aimed it at me. “You mean nothing to me!” he yelled. “ I thought I could love you, but I was mistaken. I’m fucking sorry. I tried to make it work but, unfortunately, it doesn’t, and it never will. Might as well end it now.” His hands were shaking as he moved forward, looking to touch me in some small way. His eyes were red and streaming with tears. “I’m so—”

“You’re sorry? Are you really about to tell me you’re fucking sorry? I don’t want your apologies,” I railed. He stepped forward, moving into me, and I took a step back. “Go away; I don’t want you here.” I batted his hand away, pushing my palms into his chest. “Don’t you fucking touch me, Luca! You’re fucked up, and I wish you never came back into my life.” I waited for him to turn, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood, unmoving in front of me. “Fucking go already. Why stay? Because you get off on my pain? I hope your pain is never ending. I hope you choke on it every sunny day you wake up and every starry night that shines down on you…

He gasped for air, looking as if he was reaching for his throat. But, instead, he reached for the handle of the door. I wasn’t his halo of pain to get off on. I took one last look at him and his broken features hit me like a blistering wind during a storm, buckling my legs beneath me and pulling me to the ground.

I desperately tried to pull air into my deflated and cold lungs, holding on to the side of the chair.
Please god
, I prayed. He was leaving me. He was leaving me…again. In my pity, I cried. “Just leave. Fucking leave already!” The words clawed their way through my throat, leaving raw, and on fire. I coughed, hoping to relieve it, but it did nothing. My tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. The agony that swept through me in one-heartbreaking moment was so devastating I didn’t think I’d survive. My knees wobbled, meeting the floor in one hard and loud thud of pain, and I grabbed my phone—my only sense of preservation. It was instinct. Natural reaction.

“Hello,” a lonely, disconnected voice answered after two rings.

“Please come… Please come… Please, I need you…” I gasped out through the unsteady intakes of air.

A gasp echoed through the phone and into my ear. “Fuck! I’m on my way.”

I hung up and curled into a ball of trauma and heartache, bleeding everything out onto the cold floor beneath me.

(an I Love the Way You Lie novel)

My head was buried between her legs when my phone rang. It was the ringer I had set for
her
. I wanted to ignore it, tried to, but something within me called to me—begged me to answer. The tether that had once kept us together was pulled so taught that I couldn’t fight it.

I answered, trying desperately to keep myself from sounding out of breath. “Hello?”

A distant sigh and cry caught my ear. Allison. “Babe? You okay?”

Nothing but cries rang through the air. I sat up, removing Alisa’s thigh from my neck and motioned for her to remain quiet. Suddenly, nothing around me existed except for the despairing cries coming through the phone.

I walked out onto the balcony, shitfaced and bare-assed, but I didn’t give a fuck. “Babe, you there? Talk to me, please. You’re killing me…” I wanted to crawl into the phone and hold her, comfort her, protect her.

“Please come… Please come… Please, I need you,” she begged through gut-wrenching sobs, her pleas meeting my ear with the weight of a freight train. It was enough to sober me—clear the fog from my brain. That’s where I had been without her…in a fog.

Fuck! I knew he would do this to her. I knew it! I would kill the son of a bitch. It would be a long, painful death for the agony he was putting my Allison through. I’d beat him once for every tear he’d made her shed.

“I’m on my way.” And I was. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

I’d say Chloe is the perfect wife. She’s beautiful, of course. She’s killer smart. I often tell her that she’s smarter than I am. If we have kids, I hope they take after her. Not only that, she’s insightful, she’s caring. Yes, at times she can be stubborn. Oh, I guess I should say she can also tolerate quite the spanking. I have to practically pry her safeword out of her when I’m laying into her ass with a paddle.

Outside of the bedroom she can stand her ground with anyone, me included. She’s no pushover. But in the bedroom, well let’s just say that behind closed doors, the love of my life turns into a complete and total slut. Make no mistake; my wife Chloe Walker is a submissive masochist: no wonder I love her so much.

We had decided on a two week honeymoon. The first week was spent on a quiet resort in Turks and Caicos. We knew that after the madness of a wedding, we’d need at least one week to chill. By mid-morning, we’d be into the Margaritas and Piña Coladas. By noon, Mai Tais, Mojitos, and beer. Actually, it might be easier if I list what we
didn’t
drink. In the afternoon we’d nap in our room, wake up, fuck again – and go swimming before dinner. After a wonderful meal together, and some dancing or partying or whatever, we’d do one last shot of Tequila, or perhaps some bourbon for me, and then back up to our room for yet more amazing sex.