The Gamble: A Novel (24 page)

Alexxa

Luca wins. He fucking wins. I am successfully too sore to concentrate on anything other than the sexy aches thumping through my system. Every time I move another image from my night with him fills my mind, reminding me exactly why I hurt the way I do. Not that I needed the extra hint. I was there! I was present for every single goddamn moment and am still shocked about the one from this morning. Can you believe it? He said he loved me. I thought I was going to have to say it first, you know on his death bed when he's 97, and needing to hear last words from loved ones, but I didn't. As excited as I am, is it wrong to be a little nervous too? It's not that I don't think he means it, it's just...well I know Luca. This sort of shit isn't
him
. Yeah, he's not the same asshole he used to be, but a girlfriend? Commitment? Love? All of it combined feels like a house of cards and every day is one fucking gust of wind away from it all collapsing. What? I'm not pessimistic. I'm just not the dreamy eyed moron most women turn into. I've always prided myself on how well I know him. That includes this moment too.

Opening his apartment door, I'm surprised to see him stretched on the couch, watching baseball highlights.

“Did you bring home some fucking beer?”

I drop the groceries on the counter. “I did bring you some fucking beer. You're welcome asshole.”

Luca's body shoots up and his smile grows out of surprise. “Shit, I thought you were Warren.”

“Obviously.”

As I begin to unload the sacks, he hops up off the couch. “What the hell are you doing here? Thought you had to work until like six.”

“The pregnant woman I'm replacing stopped functioning around noon.
Again.
So I was kinda off the hook early.”

Luca opens the fridge to help put away the items. “And you decided to go grocery shopping?”

“I decided I would cook dinner for my boyfriend like a girlfriend can-”

“
Should.
”

“
Can
,” my emphasizing is accompanied with an elbow to his ribs. “Before spending the evening working on some shit for Monday.”

He puts away the last of the snacks I brought and leans against the counter opposite of me. “How about you work
in between
calling out my name?”

I fight the urge to moan at the thought.

That's definitely the plan, but we're not going to tell him that.

“We'll see.” I shrug and wink. “Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the gym and Warren would be home for me to hang out with.”

Luca folds his arms across his chest. “So you could tell him how you're tri-lingual now?”

“Tri?”

“Yeah. You speak, English, Spanish, and Luca.”

“You're not a fucking language.”

“The way you moan my name I might as well be.”

Gag him. Please? Yeah. Yeah. Don't remind me I actually
love
him.

“I was actually hoping he was home so I could do just the opposite. He needs to know all the tales coming out of your bedroom are pure bullshit.”

Like I hoped, fire flashes in his eyes, and his body closes the gap. His hips push harshly against mine. “Bullshit?”

With a noncompliant look I repeat, “Bullshit.”

Luca licks his lips slowly and I helplessly whimper. He gives my nipple a hard tug. “Say it again.”

“Bul...” is all that escapes before he repeats the tug eliciting his favorite sound. In one rough, fluid motion he yanks my heather gray shirt open. Buttons clink against several different objects in the tiny kitchen. “Luca!”

Rather than answer to my objection, he runs his fingers lightly over the tops of my boobs. His touch lowers until he's toying with nipples again. This time when I softly sigh he commands, “Turn around.”

I do as I'm told.

“Hands on the counter.”

Over dramatically I slap them on there. “What do you think you're doing?”

His hard cock presses against the back of my skirt. In a low growl he says, “Fucking you in the kitchen.”

I try to turn around to argue, but his hand slips underneath my skirt and grazes the outside of my soaking thong.

What did you expect? Pretty sure it's to the point where he can just wink and I'm ready to fucking come. This is all just an 'I'm no longer a virgin' problem, right? It's gonna go away. Please tell me it's gonna go away. I can't go through the rest of my life like he's a vibrator with fresh new batteries in it all the time. That's no way to live. Or the perfect way to live...we'll come back to that.

Luca's finger presses against my clit and I stutter, “Y-Y-You can't fuck me in the kitchen.”

“I can.”

“But what if-” His hand slips underneath the thin barrier forcing an instant gasp. He feathers my clit, not feeding me enough to be sustained yet enough to make my knees buckle. “W-w-what if Warren walks in?”

In a cocky tone he replies, “Then I guess he'll see all the stories
aren't
bullshit.”

Without room for complaining or denying of his decision, he's got my skirt yanked up, my panties ripped off, and my body slightly bent forward. His cock glides straight to the hilt. There isn't even enough time to breathe let alone moan before the vicious punishment of pumping begins. Ruthless, Luca thrusts sharply, bounces barbarically, and spanks savagely. Every movement, every unforgiving sexual agony delivered turns my pussy into a ticking time bomb. The first orgasm barely registers it's left the building by the time the second starts quaking through me. My vibrations and howls only fuel the merciless monster I created.

“Lu...” I whimper, hands clutching the counter like it's my last hope in this sexual battle of my sanity. “Lu...Lu...”

“Can't even say my whole fucking name,” he brutishly comments. Another pop on the ass forces my muscles to begin another round of pulsating, pleading for leniency and euphoria in a twisted tandem. “You're mine, baby. Solo contigo Alexxa...”

The delicious declaration seems to excite my pussy even more as another wave of wetness begins to flood. Determined and desperate to milk at least one orgasm out of him the way he is me, I begin to toss my body back into the movements, the change in pace catching him off guard. His large frame covers mine completely from behind while one of his hands tightly winds through my hair.

His teeth nip at the spot right below my neck. “Te Amo, Alexxa.”  

“Come for me, Luca,” I command.

With one final deep grumble, he yanks my head back harshly and erupts so ferociously he sears much more than just my body.

Every time he says those words in Spanish it's like it means ten times more than it ever could in English.

The moment he lets go of my body, I crumble like a rag doll.

What! You try getting banged like a drum and see how well you hold up after.

“You broke my shirt.”

Luca laughs as he slips himself out of me. I frown at the lost connection. “And you're underwear.”

“Yeah, dick nuts. I don't keep extra clothes in my car like you.”

“You could just keep some here.”

Whoa....big red flag for another big step.

“But you since you haven't
yet, g
uess you'll just have to wear some of mine.”

Somehow I drag myself back up and turn around to face him with a scowl. “You did that shit on purpose so Warren would have to see me in your clothes.”

He grabs his shorts off the ground. “We'll call it evidence.”

“You're an asshole.”

Luca reaches out and tugs me into him. “You knew that shit goin' in, baby. Now, let's fuck in the shower, and then you can tell me all about your new job while you cook me dinner.”

“That all sounds way too Susie Homemaker for my liking.”

“You can blow me while you cook. Would that help?”

I punch him square in the chest.

“Ou! I was trying to be helpful!”

Luca doesn't leave room to get hit again. His lips find mine and begin the devouring ritual we both know always yields positive results.

Guess you could say he knows me pretty well too.

After another round in the shower and in his bed, I'm in a pair of his basketball shorts and one of his old sweatshirts, preparing to cook in their kitchen.

From the bar counter, Luca chuckles and tips his beer to his lips, “I like the way you handle my meat.”

Shaking my head, I continue to brush the marinade on the steak. “You've been sitting on that one for a while, haven't you?”

“About ten minutes.” He shrugs. “Have you had a chance to read any of the script yet?”

“No. We spent most of the morning having me sign some forms and helping her remove her shit so I can move in mine.”

“You have your own office?”

“Not exactly. I have my own desk.”

He casually says, “Just means we have to fuck on it after hours.”

With a roll of the eyes, I sigh, “Is that all you think about?”

“That and sports.” When I turn around he flashes me a smile and wink.

I fake a gag.

“You fucking love me.”

Sarcastically I say, “Do I?”

“Yup.” He chuckles and has another sip of his beer. “And I love you...or parts of you.”

“I'm spitting on yours.”

Luca starts laughing harder just as Warren strolls through the front door.

He gives me a once over and suspicion spans across his face. “You're making dinner? Did you lose a bet or something?”

Before I can answer, Luca says, “Nope. Apparently when you fuck your girlfriend rotten for two days she feels compelled to make you a thank you meal.”

I smirk playfully at Warren. “I dropped his on the floor.”

He chuckles a little and locks the front door.

“I grabbed you one too. Hungry?”

He glances at Luca.

Is there some sort of new rule where your boyfriend's best friend can't eat your cooking once you start having sex? Are there new guidelines now? Where do I find these instructions?

“Don't worry, I didn't poison yours,” I playfully poke.

Warren attempts a smile. “You want some help? I can make a side.”

Whipping my head around, I snip, “Why didn't
you
offer to make a side?”

“You're the one who offered to make
me
dinner.”

“So you couldn't counter offer?”

“Absolutely not.”

I roll my eyes and turn back around to Warren. “Why do I love him again?”

Luca chuckles but Warren darts his eyebrows down. “You...you love him? You're in love with Luca?”

“Sounds fucking weird, right?”