Steal My Breath (Elixir #1) (3 page)

No.

“Yes.” God, I want him. Even more now that he’s telling me no.

“Bullshit.” He watches me closely for my response, and I want to scream out my need for him, but I refrain.

“Okay, so maybe not, but why can’t we see where it leads?”

“Because I know where it will lead. To heartbreak, and I refuse to hurt you.” He speaks with a finality that irritates me. As if he gets the final say and I get no input.

“I know you think that you know everything, Luke, but on this, you don’t. You have no idea where it might go, and I want to know what’s holding you back.” I train my eyes on him in an effort to make it clear I’m not giving in to him on this.

“Jesus!” He rubs the back of his neck as he takes a step away from me. When he begins pacing, I wonder what the hell is going on in his mind. I’ve never been turned down by a man before.

Maybe I read him wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t want me.

And then, he surprises the hell out of me by stalking back to me, taking hold of my face with both his hands and kissing me.

Oh, dear Lord.

His lips fit perfectly to mine.

He caught me off guard for a moment, but I quickly get back in the game and wrap my arms around him while pressing my body close.

No man has ever kissed me the way Luke is kissing me.

It’s like sunshine on a rainy day, when all the doom that’s been cast your way during the pounding rain finally clears, and you see those first rays of a rainbow mixed with glints of sun.

Sweet, sweet, happy rays of sunshine that make you want to dance. That make you feel happy and thankful when all you were feeling before was sad and gloomy.

That’s how Luke’s kiss makes me feel.

I don’t ever want this kiss to end.

His tongue dances with mine, and my body lights up with pleasure.

Don’t ever stop.

Please.

My fingers tangle in his hair, and I moan into his mouth as he deepens the kiss. And when he growls his pleasure, I press even harder against him. Against his erection.

He wants me as much as I want him.

Thank you, sweet, sweet universe.

And as I’m clinging to him and drowning in his kiss, he does the one thing I don’t want him to do.

He pulls away.

Pained eyes stare at me as he attempts to get his breathing under control. I stare back in complete confusion waiting for him to explain why he stopped.

Eventually, he gives me two sentences that only confuse me even more. “I can’t do this. Not yet.”

And then he’s gone.

And I’m left staring at the spot where he stood a moment ago.

Where he stood kissing me as if I was also the sunshine to his rainy day.

T
wo days have passed
since Luke kissed me.

Since we spoke.

I haven’t heard from him, and I’ve been too busy to visit the bar. Work has picked up and the long hours I’ve pulled over the last two days have almost kicked my ass. It’s only 9:00 p.m. and I’m ready for sleep.

My phone rings and I flick the television off and move from the couch to rummage in my bag for it.

“Why haven’t I seen you for two days?” Avery demands when I answer her call.

I sigh. “I’ve been busy at work, and I’m exhausted. Twelve hour days aren’t my calling in life.”

“You know what’s not
my
calling in life?”

“What?” I’m not too tired to pick up on the sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Dealing with a cranky, moody Luke Hardy, that’s what.”

Oh.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Fucked if I know, babe. He came back to the bar after he took you home the other night and he was really quiet, and then the next day his moods began. My guess is something happened after he dropped you home, but I’m not game to ask him.”

My breathing slows as I process her words.

I can’t do this. Not yet.

What did he mean when he said that?

“He kissed me,” I admit quietly. If it had turned out differently between us, I would be shouting it from the rooftops.

“Holy shit! And what? That’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all. But it was the best kiss I’ve ever had.” I linger in my memories, not wanting to believe they’re all I’ll ever have from him.

“Wait, back this up because I don’t understand how this all went down. Tell me from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.” I can imagine her settling back on her couch for the full story.

“There’s not much to tell. He kissed me, it was amazing, and then he stopped kissing me and said something about not being able to do this yet. And before you ask, I have no clue what he meant because he left without giving me a chance to ask.”

“Holy shit!” she exclaims again. “I think it’s about time we did some digging into Luke Hardy. We’ve let him evade all our questions over the last year, but this calls for some investigating. We need to know everything there is to know about him.”

“God, no! Don’t you go there, Avery.” I know she won’t listen to me, though. When Avery decides to do something, nothing can stop her.

“You can’t throw me something like that and expect it to be enough.”

I slump back onto my couch. This is bad. “I don’t want any part of it.”

Her mind is already three steps ahead of mine. “Leave it with me.” I can practically hear her mind ticking over as she speaks.

I’m about to beg her not to pursue this when someone bangs on my front door. “I’ve gotta go. There’s someone knocking on my door.”

“All good. You go,” she says, dismissing me, and I know I have no chance of changing her mind.

We say goodbye and finish the call as I drag myself off the couch so I can answer the door. I’m almost relieved someone is here because they saved me from Avery, but I’ve no idea who would be visiting me at this time of night.

Whoever it is bangs harder on the door. So impatient.

“I’m coming!” I yell out, and the banging stops.

I yank the door open, ready to give them a piece of my mind but freeze when I see who it is.

Luke.

His dishevelled appearance is in stark contrast to the cool, controlled Luke I know. He stares at me through anguished eyes, and all the hurt and confusion that has been churning in me over the past couple of days dissipates. The man standing in front of me looks broken, and all I want to do is pull him close and wrap my arms around him.

“Hi,” I greet him a little awkwardly while my mind goes to war over hugging him.

He doesn’t reply, but rather simply stands there, staring at me as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

And then—“I’m married.” His voice cracks on the two words a woman never wants to hear, and where I should be pissed off at his confession, I know deep in my gut that there’s more to this.

I’m not sure what to say, so I say nothing.

“Her name is Jolene…” He stumbles over her name as if it’s the last word he wants to escape from his lips. I sense his distaste and instantly dislike Jolene while wondering what she did to him to make him feel this way.

The silence swirls around us and the winter chill of the July night cuts through to my bones. Or maybe it’s the thought that a married man kissed me two nights ago, and all I can think about is kissing him again. And even though it’s wrong and I’ve always sworn I’d never get involved with a married man, it feels so damn right, and that scares the hell out of me.

I remain silent, waiting for him to say the words that could make this all right.

We’re separated.

That would work.

“We’ve been married for five years,” he says, and I hear the same emptiness in his words that I can see in his eyes. “Fuck!” He shoves his fingers through his hair as he snaps, and I sense the fury punching through his body. I’m guessing those five years haven’t been the happiest five years for him.

“So you’re still together?” I hold my breath waiting for his reply.

“No. Yes… No, not really. Shit, Callie, it’s so fucking complicated.”

My patience is wearing thin. I don’t understand what he’s trying to tell me. A person is either married, or they’re not. My frustration turns me a little snarky. “I’m sure that’s the line every married man uses, Luke.”

He takes a step as if to enter my apartment and when I don’t move to let him through, he pauses and asks, “Can I come in so I can try to explain this fucked-up situation to you?”

“So long as your explanation involves more than ‘it’s complicated’.”

His lips pinch together. “It will.”

I step aside and usher him in.

A moment later, he blows my mind with his revelation.

“Two years ago, my wife was sent to jail for murder. More specifically for the murder of her own mother. I did everything to fight the charges. Hired her the best lawyer money could buy, had a private investigator look into it. No stone was left unturned, and yet, she was found guilty. I’ve spent the last two years trying to fight the conviction. It’s been hell, but I’ve clung to her innocence. Everything I’ve done has been geared towards proving that.” He stops talking and begins pacing while holding the back of his neck.

I’m stunned into silence. Never in a million years did I expect
that
.

He stops moving and turns to me. His nostrils flare, and his eyes fill with anger. “But she’s not fucking innocent,” he says, stunning me even further.

“How do you know that?”

“We found new evidence proving it was her.”

My mind swims with more confusion. “Okay, back it up, and tell me everything. I’m not really grasping all this.”

“Yeah, that’s two of us.” Defeat snakes its way through his words. “I only discovered Jolene’s lies six months ago when we discovered the new evidence, and I’m still trying to piece it all together.”

I frown. “Why would she kill her own mother?”

“I have no idea.” His anger is extreme, and I don’t blame him. I’d be gutted if I discovered my spouse had done what she has.

I try to process what he’s said, but I struggle. “This is the kind of stuff you just don’t think happens in real life. Like, it happens in the movies and books, but not to people you know.” I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s been going through all this time. He’s never shared anything about his past with us.

We grow silent, each consumed with our own thoughts. I have a million questions but don’t want to bombard him. Sharing this information is clearly a big step for him, and I know he’s not a huge talker, so I decide to wait for him to share more without prompting.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you the other night,” he finally says, blowing out a long, frustrated breath.

I want him to take those words back.

Surely he felt what I felt in that kiss?

My heart hurts even asking my next question. I’m not sure I want to know the answer, but I
need
to know it. “Did it mean nothing to you?”

His body stills, and he blinks. “Fuck, it meant everything to me, Callie. I’ve wanted to kiss you for months.” My hope soars.
He feels the same way as me
.

I move to where he stands and place my hand on his arm. His body tenses and I hate that. “Why shouldn’t you have kissed me, then? If we both want this, why can’t we have it?”

He pulls his arm away from my hand. “Because I’m married, and my head is all fucked-up over it. I don’t want to bring you into that. You deserve so much more.”

My brows pull together. “Are you getting a divorce now that you know the truth?”

He doesn’t answer me straight away, and my heart dives into the disappointment I know I’m going to feel when he answers me. “It’s complicated.” His voice is ragged, torn.

“I’m getting really fucking sick of that word!” I throw at him as my anger builds.

His hand flicks out and grabs mine, and he yanks me to him. Our bodies press hard against each other, and the sounds of our heavy breathing fill the room.

Every nerve ending of mine tingles as our eyes lock.

My lips part, ready.

Hoping.

“You’ve got no fucking idea how much I want you. How much I want to kiss you again and spend every hour of every day either with you or thinking about you. My marital status is complicated, but what I feel for you isn’t. You stole my attention a long time ago, you just never realised it.” The honesty in his voice threads itself through my heart.

Maybe we have a chance.

Our faces are so close now. All I need to do is lean forward a fraction, and I’ll experience the divine sensation of his lips on mine again. Oh, God, how I want that.

But he’s married.

And it’s complicated.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, and I move both my hands to press against his chest. I’m not sure if it’s to push him away or just to touch him because my thoughts are a mess.

Why can’t men and sex and dating be easy?

“Callie.” His voice is demanding, and I know he’s seeking an answer from me.

Our eyes hold each other.

So close.

Oh, man.

I’m really going to do this.

When I don’t say anything, he pushes me. “I want you. So damn much.”

Oh, to hell with it.

She lied to him.

He hates her.

It’s complicated.

Fuck,
life
is complicated.

I reach my hand up to curl around his neck and thread through his hair.

It feels so good.

It feels right.

I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his before pulling away and whispering, “This is going to change everything, isn’t it?”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, and he pushes out a breath as he nods. “Yes.”

I take a deep breath.

And for once in my life, I run completely with my heart rather than with my head.

I kiss him like I did two nights ago.

Deep.

Hard.

Long.

A growl comes from his chest, and he lifts me to carry me to my bedroom. After he places me on my bed, he lifts his T-shirt over his head and drops it to the floor. I’m so entranced by the raw hunger I see in his eyes that I’m not even tempted to shift my gaze to admire his naked chest.

When his hands move to undo his jeans, I finally take in the chiselled muscles of his body.

I need to touch him.

Before my lust-filled mind has a chance to tell my body to move towards him, he strips the rest of his clothes off and kneels on the bed.

Surely, I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Luke’s powerful body moves over mine, and all I can do is lie back and let him take charge.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he says as he slides his hands under my T-shirt. His touch scatters pleasure across my skin, and I arch my back up off the bed.

When his hands glide over my breasts, I moan. I’ve waited so long for his hands on me, and even though I never believed it would happen, I’ve imagined how it would feel. And it feels so much better than I ever dreamed it would.

His eyes meet mine. “This pains me to even say, but I’m not the kind of man who forces himself on women, so tell me again that this is what you want. Just know that once you say yes, there’s no going back because I’m barely restraining myself already.”

There’s no hesitation on my behalf. “Yes, I want this.”

His deep breaths come hard and fast as he walks that tightrope of restraint, and at my words, the rope snaps, and I know the switch has been flipped in his mind.

I know he’s going to give me the best damn sex I’ve ever had.

Moments flash by, and I can hardly keep up with him. He removes my T-shirt and bra and then slides my jeans and panties off.

His movements are swift, yet gentle. He positions himself over my body, on his hands and knees, and dips his head so he can take one of my nipples into his mouth. When his warm tongue sweeps over my skin, I grip the bed sheet and wrap my legs around his body.

Yes.

Oh, God, so many yeses.

There are not enough yeses in the world for Luke Hardy.

Maybe it’s three months of no sex, but pleasure is ricocheting through my body, and I think I might actually explode from how amazing it is.

Or maybe it’s just Luke.

I’ll have to sleep with him at least once more to know for sure.

He has a wife.

Oh shush, it’s complicated.

“Callie.” Luke’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “I don’t have a condom. Do you?”

“Yes, in the drawer of my bedside table.”
Thank God.

He reaches for the drawer and rummages around until he finds what he’s looking for. A moment later, he has the condom on and gives me his full attention once more.

I want his lips on mine again, so I take hold of his face and guide him to me. As he kisses me, I can feel a smile playing on his lips, and briefly, pull away to say, “Are you laughing at me, Luke Hardy?”