Relish: A Vicious Feast Book 2 (25 page)

“Luka,” I said, finally recognizing him after my brain calmed down enough. Of course he’d be here. We were on a date not a few hours ago. I remembered dessert then getting into the SUV then…what happened after the ride home?

He leaned against the headboard, balancing a forearm on one knee while he kept his other hand against my hip. I was all too aware of the contact there, and was thankful for it. If he let go of me entirely, I would shatter. The dream still loomed in the shadows of my mind. I needed something to take me away from its horror, and I found a willing participant.

As if I hadn’t woken up screaming my lungs out, I leaned in and licked at Luka’s plump bottom lip. The eyebrow with its sexy bolt shot up like he hadn’t expected my move. Encouraged by the reaction, I sat on my calves. My gaze traveled down the cuts of muscle along his bare torso. I hummed the way I did at the first bite of Guinness Cake. Since he was already half-naked, I thought it only fair to return the favor and reached for the  hem of my camisole. Trust Luka to strip me down to my underwear when we got into bed. I couldn’t complain. It made things easier. But before I could lift the fabric up, he circled my wrists with his ringed fingers and trapped them against my thighs.

“Luka?”

“You were dreaming, weren’t you?”

The seriousness of his tone sent cold shivers down my spine, straightening my back rod stiff. “So what?”

He sighed.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. The ball of fear still in my gut bounced around, quickly gaining momentum. I couldn’t allow it to take over me again, so I pushed forward until my lips met his. Impatient, I shoved my tongue into his mouth, coaxing him to respond when he remained still. He refused to participate, no matter how hard I tried.

Frustrated, I bit down on his lip out of spite. He hissed, but didn’t react more than that. I sat back. Tremors of panic ran below the surface of my skin, chilling me to the bone. Couldn’t he see I needed him? My eye widened at the thin stream of blood coming from the corner I’d bitten into. I clamped down on the apology. He deserved the wound for not giving me what I wanted.

Transferring both my wrists into the grip of one hand, he thumbed at the blood then licked it away. “You done?”

“Not by a long shot,” I challenged. If anger kept the weakness away then he asked for it. “You tell me you want me at the pub and now that I’m practically throwing myself at you you’re actually rejecting me?”

The steel in his blue eyes softened. In the light of the moon streaming in from a slit between the heavy drapes, his expression remained stern, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I’ve wanted you since the night I saw you at Sacrifice.” The last club I covered for my university paper? Bringing that up now knocked some wind out of my sails. I opened my mouth to respond, a retort at the ready, but he cut me off. “I was just too stupid to realize it at the time. But like this? With you scared shitless from a nightmare?” He shook his head. “I’m not that kind of man.”

I laughed. This whole situation seemed so absurd. When I could get the words out, I said, “You’re not the Luka I know. That Luka would have jumped at the chance to have sex with me.” Images of the night he rejected me the first time when I offered myself to him came back, choking the last of my insane laughter.

“I’m still that guy.” He released my wrists to return his forearms on top of his bent knees. He no longer touched me, and even if I sat between his legs, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely alone. “But when you and I finally have sex I want you to be present for the whole thing, not trying to forget whatever it is bothering you in here.” He tapped my forehead.

Appalled, I scrambled off the bed and pointed at the door. “Get out!”

Leaning his head against the headboard, he studied me. “Why?”

“If you’re not going to be of use to me then I don’t need you here.” If he couldn’t give me the oblivion I craved then what other use did he have? A lie. It was because I didn’t want him to see me curl up into a tight ball and sob until I was spent. The fear in my gut unfurled, slowly invading my chest.

“I can’t do that,” he said, shaking his head.

“And why not?” I dropped my arm to my side.

“Because you obviously need me.”

I snorted. “No. I don’t.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“Fuck you.”

Gradually, like a lion rising from a relaxed position, Luka edged off the bed and stood up. He approached me with a precise gait. My fists trembled at my sides. I bared my teeth at him in warning. He ignored me, his calm stare even with my hostile glare. He wrapped me in a tight embrace before I could raise my fists to pummel him on the chest. I remained stiff in his arms out of pride. Like hell will I melt just because his body heat drove away my mounting distress.

Like an expert in giving comfort, he moved his hands up and down my back. The friction unraveled the tight knots there. My mind refused to give in, but my damn traitor of a body relaxed beneath his touch. My feet inched closer so I stood between his legs. My breasts flattened against his chest. Soon my harsh breathing slowed to match his steady inhale and exhale. His hands continued their massage over the plain of my back.

My mind protested, my body gave in.

I lost the battle. I knew I did the moment his scent coated my lungs. My forehead fell against his shoulder. The tears I’d been holding in rose to the surface and fell down my cheek to pause at my chin before landing on his chest. Thoughts of pushing him away vanished the second he started humming the strains of Breathe. That repetitive song he wrote for me. In his soothing voice, it resembled a lullaby meant to lull someone to sleep.

“Why can’t you just leave?” I asked into his chest, wiping my sodden eyelashes over the taut skin there.

“I can’t do that,” he said. He pulled away just enough so he could lift my chin and kissed my eyelid closed. The tenderness became my undoing. He trapped me in his web and there was no way I could see myself escaping. I met his gaze when he continued. “You can hate me all you want right now but it won’t change the way I feel about you.”

“What are you saying?” I dared to ask.

His gaze gentled further. “I love you.”   

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-E
IGHT
D
ECLARATION

Well that knocked the fear and panic caused by my latest dream out of me. I blinked several times fast in bewilderment. Then I goggled at him, searching for the punchline of the joke on the serious lines of his handsome-as-sin face. A different kind of quiver raced through my body. The kind filled with longing mixed with dread.

“What?” was all I could say. What else was there?

Without an expression change, he moved his magic, soothing hands from the plane of my back to my shoulders. The rings he wore left tingles in their wake. This gave me a chance to step back so I could see the rest of him more clearly. Still no laugh lines or a spark of mischief. What the hell was he trying to pull here? Comforting me, I got, but to actually confess that he loved me? Total and utter bullshit. I would have told him so if my brain hadn’t exploded seconds ago.

“I love you,” he repeated.

The three words every woman wanted to hear made me blurt out, “Where’s the punchline?”

His eyebrows came together. “Punchline?”

Might as well continue down this road. “Of the joke.”

He breathed in to sigh but held it in instead then said, “This isn’t a joke.” He rolled his eyes at me. “Here I am laying my heart at your feet and the best you can do is ask if I’m joking? You really know how to bruise a guy’s ego.”

“No.” I stepped back. I needed space away from the delicious scent of him to think.

“I love—”

“Shut up a second,” I cut him off, waving my hands in front of me. I turned my back on him. “This can’t be happening.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “This can’t be happening. I’m still dreaming. Yeah. This isn’t real.”

A soft chuckle reached me. “This is as real as my feelings are for you. I was supposed to tell you tonight but you dozed off in the car on the drive back here.”

Typical. I wouldn’t have held back the snort if I knew for certain Luka wouldn’t take it the wrong way. But still. Ply me with rich food and I fall asleep. How idiotic could I be?

“Then, after I told you, I’d make love to you. I had everything planned out.”

I whirled around and pointed at him, eye narrowed. “Sex.”

He scratched the back of his head then crossed his arms. “Making love.”

“Bullshit.” There, it finally came out. I bridged the gap between us and poked the center of his chest with every word I said. “I only know sex. Sweaty, messy, primal sex.”

With one of those sexy grins gracing his equally sexy face, he grabbed my hand and placed a tender kiss on the finger I used to poke him with. I yanked away from his touch as if electrocuted. He didn’t seem to mind, his expression remained teasing.

“Oh, I can do sweaty, messy, primal sex.”

The promise in his statement caused every part of me to clench in anticipation. For an absolutely insane second, I wanted him to make good on that promise. Then I shook my head to clear the rising desire.

“Oh no, you don’t.” I stood my ground, hands on my hips. “You’re not going to distract me from what’s really important right now.”

“And what’s that?”

“How can you say that you love me when at the beginning of this year you were willing to get slobbering drunk because of Phoenix?”

That erased all humor from his features, but just when his forehead crumpled, he brought up a hand and rubbed it down his face. His shoulders slumped right before he took a deep breath and stood up straighter.

“Samrah warned me you’d continue to bring up Phoenix.”

My face scrunched up like I sucked on a particularly sour lemon. “Don’t bring the shrink into this. You don’t understand how much that night hurt me, Luka. I was ready to give up everything to spend more time with Vicious...” I took a deep breath then added, “With you. I had it all planned. I would bring you out onto one of the terraces and officially tell you that I accepted your offer of extending my contract. Playing find-the-drunk-Luka and finding out you still had the hots for your ex wasn’t in the plan.”

“I made a mistake,” he said defensively. “How many times would you want me to apologize for that particular sin? I admit to doing a lot of shitty things in my life, but never have I felt remorse for anything I’ve done until I hurt you. Don’t you see?” He took a step forward which I matched by taking a step back. “I made a fucking mistake that night. When I realized that, I went to get help. I’m still getting help. Had I been smarter, I would have realized Phoenix was nothing but a pipedream. I resented her for the happiness she found with Demitri and thought to replace her with you. I was wrong. God, I went about everything the wrong way. And now, from the look of horror on your face, I’m messing things up again.”

Unsure what he’d meant about my expression, I closed my eye and counted to ten, taking the appropriate calming breaths. When I opened my eye again, Luka’s stricken expression remained. He stared at me like he expected me to bolt any minute.

“I’m sorry,” I said, albeit grudgingly. “I’m not used to having someone confess his feelings for me.” A lie. Larry had told me he loved me. I had a couple boyfriends who’d done the same. But this was the first time I actually wanted to hear the words. That having them said disarmed me. How weak had I become that I’d hoped for exactly this moment with Luka and was currently destroying the beauty in his words by freaking out? God, sometimes I hated myself.

“Like I said,” he shifted his weight, “you can hate me all you want right now but it’s not going to change how I feel. Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe I should have waited for a better time.”

“You got that right.” The dreams. I hated them even more. “Why is it nothing goes according to plan when you’re concerned?” I meant it as a joke, but his response came like a bullet.

“Maybe because the Fates hate me.”

“This has nothing to do with fate.”

“Not fate.” He shook his head. “The Fates.”

“As in the Fates in mythology?”

“You’d be surprised.”

He spoke earnestly enough, but something told me a joke hid somewhere in his statement. “There you go again, distracting me.”

“Look, I’m far from perfect.” He ruffled his already messy curls. “I still have issues I’m working on. I can be moody—”

“Don’t I know it.” The music room temper tantrum came to mind.

“Please,” he rubbed his jaw, “will you let me get this all out before interrupting?”

The request, said in a pleading tone, quickly zipped my lips. I forced myself to nod. He waited. I stayed still.

Satisfied, he spoke again. “I’m a handful, but I believe you’re the only person who can handle me. You don’t see my fame. You don’t want my money.”

I did everything in my power to hold in the snort begging to come out. Because, yeah, I wanted none of those things. Fame and money were only a side-effect of Luka’s immense talent. A talent he shared with the world. Being rewarded for that doesn’t add to who he was as a person.

“Your stubborn streak rivals mine. You have an inner strength that I admire. You’ve obviously survived horrific things in your life and came out whole on the other side. You stand on your own two feet and refuse handouts. You’re a great artist in your own right and are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Every sentence he completed brought a blush deeper than the one before it. All my blood seemed to rush up my neck to congregate on my cheeks. If Luka didn’t stop speaking, I was afraid my head would pop clean off my neck.

Not a mind reader, his monologue continued. “I’d be damned crazy not to fall in love with you.” A dark shadow crossed his expression. “After what that bastard Graham did—”

“We’re not going back to that, are we?”

“I’ve never come close to killing a man before. Or felt the desire to kill for any reason other than to protect my family.” He looked me in the eye. “But when I saw him on top of you in that alley…” He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. I could tell he was struggling to maintain control over his emotions. His willingness to protect me touched me deeper than whatever else he had to say. Not that it didn’t feel good hearing him confess. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”