Sweetwater: The Kihn (The Sweet Series) (26 page)

When he finally releases my lips, I give a shaky sigh. He moves his mouth t
o my ear, nips the lobe, and uses his tongue to follow the outline. A tremor courses through me. He raises his head, peers into my eyes, and leans his forehead against mine, sighing deeply. He surprises me by quickly scooping me up into his arms.

“Lucas!”

Paying no heed, he carries me out of the kitchen and through the dining room. Entering the living area, I’m afraid he’s heading to his bedroom, but he stops and sits in a large, overstuffed chair with me on his lap.
Oh my
. I like this. I snuggle into him.

“Sofie!” He hisses and makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a groan. “You have to sit still.” He shifts in the chair.

My startled gaze meets his. He cocks one black eyebrow and smirks. I feel my face flush with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” I move to slide off his lap.

“No, you’re not going anywhere.” His arms tighten and his warm breath brushes my ear. “Just—don’t wiggle around so much,” he utters with amusement.

“Okay.” I gasp as the heat from his breath sends chills down my neck and shoulder.

He chuckles, leaning back from me, and I see amusement teasing the corners of his mouth. “Sofie, let me enlighten you…”

Oh
. Okay. I wonder what he’s enlightening me about.

“If you were stupid—I wouldn’t have given you a second look, trust me.” Oh, so he’s back to that. “Your intelligence appealed to me right from the start.” As I part my lips to respond, he places his finger against them, silencing me.

“I find I’m—frightened—I will lose you.” He frowns as if thinking of something vaguely disturbing. “That’s something... I’ve never had to deal with.”
What? Losing someone?
“I
know
you are a smart young woman, and in some instances, you can take care of yourself. Your family has seen to that.” Again, I try to speak.

“
But
,” he adds, not letting me interrupt, “there are forces and hidden dangers here you know nothing about.” He raises my hand to his lips and kisses my palm. “I cannot lose you,” he confesses. His words thrill me, and at the same time, scare the hell out of me. His eyes hold mine—so mesmerizing. I want to fall into their green magic, but somehow, I find the strength to pull away. I close my eyes briefly to clear my head.

“May I speak now?”

His lips twitch, and the corner of his mouth lifts. I forget what I’m going to say, wanting that sensual mouth back on mine. It’s just as I knew it would be. Once I tasted him, I was instantly addicted.

As if he reads my mind, he tilts his head and touches his lips to mine softly, gently. My tongue darts out to taste him, and he groans, his arms tightening around me. His lips slide to my jaw and down my neck. He moves my hair aside as his lips touch the spot right behind my ear. A tingling sensation flashes to my lower body, making me grab his upper arms. His laugh is low and seductive.

“My God, you are sweet,” he murmurs against my temple. He leans his head against the chair back, looking at me from under his lashes. “How am I going to keep you safe?”

I squirm, and his hold tightens. “Lucas!” Laughing softly, he relaxes his arms. I lean back and look at him with exasperation. “Regardless of what you think, I am not careless. I never had any intention of going back to that house. Even before you issued your
orders
, no one could have made me.”

“The fact you went in the first place—”

“Maybe you should tell me what’s going on so I’ll know and not get into these situations.”

His eyebrows rise. “Is that right?” I blush. He laughs again as his eyes align with mine. “Sofie…” He takes hold of my chin, tilting my face up. “Don’t let this be about
us.
We can’t let this be personal. I may not agree with some of the decisions you make, but that certainly doesn’t mean I don’t find what I feel for you—agreeable.”

My heart lurches at his words. He leans in, kissing my mouth, and then whispers in my ear, “
You
are going to belong to me.” Startled at his words, I look into his hooded gaze.

Geez, he’s hot! Belong to him?
I think I already do, and it terrifies me. I know what I
want
his words to mean, but I’m sure his definition is nowhere close to what I long for. However I don’t say that as his beautiful green gaze
holds mine. I bite my bottom lip, which draws his eyes to my mouth. The back door opening causes me, instinctively, to slide forward on his lap. His arms close around me, holding me tight.

“Let me go!” I hiss, trying to wiggle out of his embrace.

He laughs, a low rumble in his chest, and vows, “Never.”

Max enters the room without reacting in any way, as if my sitting on Lucas’ lap were an everyday occurrence. That’s plausible for Lucas, but not for me, and I can’t stop my embarrassment. I elbow Lucas’ stomach. I know it hurts me a whole hell of a lot more than it hurts him. He doesn’t react at all, but I yelp in pain.

“Sofie,” he laughs, “what are you trying to do?”

“Let—me—up,” I demand through gritted teeth, pulling against his embrace.

“Of course, my sweet, you only had to ask.” He looks more amused than ever.

“I did,” I huff as I scramble off his lap.

“No, you told me to let you go,” he says softly. He sits totally at ease, his dark head tilted to one side, watching me. “Make no mistake, Sofie,” he continues in a soft voice, “that will never happen.”

My lips part with a sharply indrawn breath as his burning gaze holds mine. My heart slams against my chest, and I know I have to get out of there. I can’t contemplate all this right now. I smooth my shirt down and comb my hair off my forehead with trembling fingers, trying to appear calm.

“I’m leaving,” I state as I head toward the kitchen for my coat. Lucas reaches out and catches the back of my T-shirt, stopping me. “What—?” I turn to him in surprise.

“Max, could you get Sofie’s coat for her, and give us a moment, please?” I glance his way. Max heads toward the kitchen, clearly amused. “Sofie, I need you to behave yourself and stay out of trouble for a couple of days,” he says.

My breath comes out in a choked rush.
I cannot believe the nerve of this man!

“You are—an ass!” I turn and head for the door, dodging his hand as he reaches out to stop me. I run down the front steps and get into my car with tears of humiliation pooling in my eyes.
Who does he think he is?
He talks to me as if I was a child. I want nothing more to do with him. But I know that’s a lie.

As I pull into my driveway, one of Lucas’ men steps out of the shadows. I barely glance his way as I hurry into the house. I don’t have my coat, and I’m freezing. The phone is ringing, but I don’t answer, certain it will be Lucas. I can’t bear to hear his smug voice. Storming out in a snit, without my coat,
was
childish.

All I want is my bed, but sleep comes slowly. I can’t stop thinking about him. Just the thought of his eyes, his arms, his scent arouses me. I’ve known all along that his kisses would be like a drug to me, and I touch my lips, recalling his mouth on mine. I keep hearing his voice. The low seductive timbre as he told me I would be his and he’d never let me go.

I’m afraid to believe him, but I want to. Please God, how I want to.

The next day at work is terrible. My head is so full of Lucas I can’t stay focused. I burn the top of the macaroni and cheese, serve food to the wrong tables when I help Emma Rae, don’t hear people when they speak to me, and can’t concentrate long enough to make out a grocery list for Murphy.

Things don’t get any better when Lucas doesn’t
show for training that evening. He misses Friday’s training session too, but I vow not to ask Max about him. The night truly heads south when Teresa and Bobbi show up to the arena. I overhear Teresa telling Max she spoke to Lucas earlier, and he told her to report for training as his
special
guest.

When I leave with Emma Rae and Diane, I feel a little dejected. As we drive past Lucas’ house, I see Teresa going in the back door.

Emma Rae inhales sharply. She sees her too. “Doesn’t mean anything,” she insists.

I shrug as if I don’t care. But I do. I have Diane drop me at my house. They try to talk me into going to the Shotgun Shack, but I need to be alone. I think Diane will argue, but a glance from Emma Rae keeps her silent.

The house is quiet, just what I need to get a grip on my emotions. I feel heartsick when I think about Lucas. I want him so much, and he’s turning out to be a player. I tell myself I truly want nothing more to do with him if he’s interested in Teresa
or
Bobbi. Although Reenie’s told me Bobbi is keeping in touch with Nick while he’s gone.

I decide I’m not going to mope about Lucas a moment longer. I change into a spaghetti-strap tank top, boxer shorts, and white socks. Scooping my hair up into a high ponytail, I head to the kitchen to bake goodies for the church bake sale the next day.

I love baking, and it’s extremely therapeutic for me as I busy myself around the kitchen. I scarcely think of Lucas as I whip up a batch of brownies. When I do think of him, I feel sad, and mad, and want to cry all at the same time.

I hear banging at the front door, and on my way to answer, I grab my old, worn, and faded flannel robe. I look out the window, but I don’t see a vehicle in the driveway. Maybe it’s one of Lucas’ men. “Who is it?” I call. Sawyer answers, so I open the door.

And there stands Lucas.

“What do you want?” I ask, more than a little irritated.

He leans into the doorway, his smile sexy, lethal even. “You.”

I exhale sharply and try to shut the door in his face, but he pushes it and me back with ease as he presses his way in.

“You can’t just come in here!” I tell him with anger in my voice.

He stands in my hallway looking unbelievably handsome dressed in his usual black jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket. He is all arrogance and—male. His hair is slightly disheveled, and the dark stubble on his jawline does crazy things to my equilibrium. I want to muss his hair even more and run my tongue along his jaw. His eyes gleam as he looks me up and down. “Nice.”

My skin tingles and I pull the robe closed around me. His gaze moves past me, checking the living room, before sauntering off down the hall. At my bedroom door, he pauses and looks in. I push past him and grab the doorknob. I pull the door closed and lean my back against it, but he is already on his way back to the living room.

“You need to leave,” I tell him, my arms wrapped protectively around my middle. He makes no response. “I don’t want you here.”

He stops in front of the wall displaying an array of family portraits. I decide the best thing to do is ignore him. I sit at one end of the couch and pull my legs up under me.

“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass as you leave.”

Lucas turns toward me, cocking one of his eyebrows. I flush at my rudeness. He quickly moves to the couch and sits next to me. I move to stand and he grabs my legs, pulling them across his lap. I struggle, trying to pull my legs back, but he holds me in place and runs his hands over them, sending shivers up my spine.

“Stop it!” I again try to pull my legs free, but he holds onto my ankles, refusing to let me go. This is too intimate—I’m practically lying on his lap!

He tilts his head and glances up from under his lashes. A lock of black hair falls across his forehead. My fingers tingle, and I want to run them through his hair, remembering its silkiness.

“Explain your problem with Teresio,” he asks. His voice holds a thread of amusement.

I look down, biting my lip and fighting a smile. She’d picked up that nickname when she gained a little weight our senior year. An old boyfriend tacked the name on, comparing her to the Spanish sausage chorizo. “It’s Teresa, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I glance up, catching his keen contemplation.

“Sofie.” His breath fans across my face, and I do a slow blink as he leans in. “I need to ask you something of
extreme
importance.” He stretches out the word extreme, tipping his head to look into my eyes. “I need you to answer me truthfully.”

“What?” My voice comes out all breathy. He’s making me nervous with his closeness and the way he’s watching me.

He leans closer, and my breathing quickens as I wonder what he’s going to ask. “Can you belly dance?”

I blink, unsure I’ve heard him correctly, and then what he asks registers. I push against his chest, pushing him back away from me, and jerk my legs off his lap to leap up. “You!”

Lucas stands, his eyes wickedly amused, and I notice his lips twitch. “There is a—titillating—rumor going around about you.” He leans down, trying to meet my gaze, but I’m just as determined not to make eye contact with him.

I know my face has turned red, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the suggestive way he says titillating. A loud buzz coming from the kitchen saves me, signaling that my brownies are ready to come out of the oven. “I-I’ve got to take care of something in the kitchen.”

I remove the baking pan from the oven, wishing he’d leave. He stands in the doorway watching me, making me feel incredibly nervous.

I dump walnuts for the brownie icing on my cutting board, pick up the large knife I use for chopping, and proceed to cut them to the size I want. “You need to leave... I’m busy and I don’t want you here,” I lie as I continue to chop, not looking at him. Why
is
he here? To talk about Teresa? And it certainly hasn’t taken long for the belly dancing comment to get out.
Damn Emma Rae and her mouth!

“I don’t think so,” he responds with amused indulgence. “At least not until I get a kiss, and you tell me you’re not mad at me.”

I glance up in surprise and gasp as the knife comes down on my finger. I hold it up—the blood is already starting to drip. Lucas is beside me in an instant. In one fluid motion, he grabs my hand, wraps his other arm around my waist to pull me close, plac
es my cut finger in his mouth, and sucks. Hard.

“Ow!” I try to pull away, try to pull my finger from his mouth, but he holds me tight against his body. I can barely move, let alone get away. He’s closed his eyes, and I’m suddenly afraid. I’ve never experienced fear such as this with him. “Stop, you’re hurting me!” I cry. In the next second, a piercing stab of desire courses through my body. It’s so strong I think I’ll pass out. My
knees go weak, and he shifts me until my head rests against his chest. Breathing in his heady scent, I’m aware of his erection pressing against my belly.

He lets my finger slide from his mouth but keeps me held tight. I weakly try to pull my hand from his, looking up into rich, vibrant green eyes.

“All better now.” His voice is low and—erotic—is the best way to describe it.