The Vine (10 page)

“I will,” Luke says turning toward his bags, “but first, I’ve got to give you your present.”

“You didn’t need to do that; you’ve only been away for two days,” I weakly protest.

“I know, but I wanted to, and just to let you know, it’s never
only
two days, because every second of those two days I miss you like crazy.” And as that lovely, romantic comment leaves his lips, I just melt. Luke hands me a bag and I look up at him, biting my lip with excitement. I take the bag and pull out a box, placing it on the unmade bed. I gently take off the lid and pull back the tissue paper, and inside there’s a pair of shoes.

I pick up one shoe delicately, treating it like it’s made of glass as I turn it around in my hands, because this is not
just a pair of shoes—
oh, no. The shoes Luke has brought home for me are the most stunning works of art I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and I’d defy any female to tell me otherwise. I’d go as far as to say
these are my dream shoes. The silver, high-heel, peep-toe shoes sparkle and shine with individually hand-placed crystals, and the contrasting signature red sole gives them away as a Christian Louboutin creation—every girl’s dream. I know how much these would have set him back. I know this since I’d read an article in Vogue and laughed because the shoes and clothes featured were extortionate. I’d thought,
who in their right minds would ever buy them?!

Well, apparently my extravagant boyfriend, that’s who. I try to ignore, or at least push these facts to the back of my mind, and instead, begin wondering what red carpet event we will be attending so I can justify wearing these stunning pieces of art. My mouth is still slightly agape as I look up at him when he asks, “You like?” His eyebrows rise in apprehension.

“No, I don’t like,” I reply, and just as I see the slight frown and sadness appearing on his face and in his eyes, I come out of my shocked trance and shout, “I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE them!” and then start to laugh, dancing around the room in an excited jig. Luke looks at me like I’m crazy and starts to chuckle; then his chuckle turns into more of a belly laugh, and at that point, I just run at him and jump into his arms. I throw my arms around his neck, and clamp my knees around his waist.

Laughing some more, his hands go under my bottom to hold me in place while he staggers back slightly at the unexpected force of my body. My lips hit his with such ferocity I’m sure they’ll be swollen and bruised later. My hands, which are rough in his hair, soften as they trail to the nape of his neck, and my kiss softens too as I eventually pull my head back from his.

As I look into his beautiful, baby blue, smiling eyes that are like never-ending pools that I just want to jump into, I think to myself,
God, I love this man so much, from his dark brown, almost-black, shiny, wavy hair, his olive flawless skin, handsome, drool-worthy face and those eyes—my goodness, those eyes.
I honestly think he could make me do anything with one look from those eyes.

As Luke places me back down so my feet are back on the thick pile of the white carpet, his hands cup my face as he places a gentle kiss on the end of my nose. “Luke, those shoes truly are the most beautiful things on the planet,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies, looking straight into my eyes.

Oh, how I love him. I love him so much, in fact, I do sometimes wonder what on earth I would do if the whole world or universe of love I feel for him came crashing down. I couldn’t imagine my life now without my beautiful man in it. I shiver at these awful thoughts and shake them away, putting them in a box somewhere deep in my soul. I shouldn’t think about these terrible things. Luke loves me and I love him; we’re extremely happy, and that’s the bottom line. Luke’s looking at me; he can see the uneasiness in my eyes from being lost in unhappy thoughts, and now he’s frowning sadly at me again.

When I look to his hand, I can see he is holding a penny out to me. I smile at this gesture he does whenever he sees me looking lost in my thoughts, which is quite often. “A penny for them,” I hear him ask, obviously hoping I’m going to elaborate and offload on him.

I instantly smile at him. “They are not even worth a penny today.” And with that, he knows the subject is closed and I’m not going to burden him with any of my negative thoughts. He should look relieved, but instead, he almost looks sad. I splash on my biggest smile and it’s like our mouths are synced because as mine spreads across my face, so does his.

“Those shoes will look fabulous on you, Angel,” he says. “I can see you now, with those lovely, dark, tight, skinny jeans you wear, a crisp, white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the collar open so a tiny bit of cleavage is on show—especially from my angle looking down on you. With that and those gorgeous shoes on your feet, your sexy painted toes peeping through and a hint of your tattoo showing…” He trails off, now lost in thought, obviously picturing the scenario of me that he’s just painted in his head.

His face changes and he’s more serious now, looking extremely sexy. I watch him adjust his trousers and that’s when I start laughing and hugging him around his waist.
Oops! Wrong move there
, I think as he starts poking me with the hardness he was just adjusting. I giggle at his arousal from us just being close. I pull back, grabbing his hands instead; if we’re too close, I know exactly what shenanigans we’re capable of, and as wonderful as those thoughts are, I need to get ready and go to work myself.

Swinging his hands from side to side still smiling, I say, “As lovely and appealing as me in the jeans, shirt and shoes scenario is to you, the fact is, Luke, these shoes deserve more than that. I was thinking more along the lines of a beautiful gown, red carpet, meeting the queen…”

“No, no,” Luke says shaking his head, “the shoes are indeed beautiful—although they pale into insignificance in contrast to your beauty, Angel—but I definitely think the simplicity of the jeans and shirt is the way to go.”

“Okay, my fashion guru,” I laugh, “jeans and shirt it is, although not this morning, as I really do need to get ready for work. I’m off for a shower and I would ask you to join me, but that would definitely make me late.”

“I don’t care if I don’t have an invite,” Luke states. “I’m coming in the shower with you, and I mean in more ways than one.”

“But, but—” I stammer.

“No
buts
,” he commands, “it’s the least you can do for me, seeing as though I’ve bought you the
second
most beautiful thing on the planet.” He continues, smirking, “I’ve done that for you, so in return, I want my
most
beautiful thing on the planet—which just so happens to be you, Angel—so off we go.” I know to argue would be useless; plus, a big part of me doesn’t even want to, especially as the thought of Luke and me and a cascade of water enters my mind.

The butterflies start in my stomach and it’s not nerves, it’s anticipation of what’s to come…and because he’s so damn hot.
Boy, these butterflies are fierce in the depths of my belly
, I think as Luke steps
into the shower, holding my hand and pulling me in gently behind him. I slide the door closed behind us and when I turn back to him, our light-hearted banter is forgotten. As he eyes me up and down with pure, wanton lust, a slight smile tugs at the corner of his mouth; we both step forward under the spray of water and our lips meet in a forceful, I’ve-missed-you-for-two-days, I-love-you-and-need-you-right-now kind of way. Before I know it, his hands are on the back of my head and in my hair, clasping it like his life depends on it. My hands move across his tight abdominals, up his chest to his shoulders while our tongues find each other, testing and teasing like it’s the first time they’ve met. As Luke’s hands slide down my neck to my shoulders, and then slowly down my back, he gently bites my bottom lip, slowing things down for just a second before claiming me again with passionate kisses.

He leaves my mouth; kissing, nipping and using small licks down my jaw, to my neck and then beyond to my chest. I throw my head back while grabbing at his silky, damp hair. He kisses, licks and nips at my breasts slowly. “Oh, God,” I moan. I’m panting and already thinking I don’t know how much more of this I can take when Luke sucks one of my nipples into his mouth and slowly and lightly teases it. Just as I feel I’m about to lose control, he thankfully lets it pop out of his mouth. No sooner than he does though, he’s got the other nipple between his teeth and then in his mouth. I gasp in delight as I enjoy the sensations running from my breast, down to my core.

I am briefly disappointed when his mouth leaves me, but groan, “Oh, dear Lord,” as his kisses begin to get lower. Down my belly he goes, and oh, do I know where this is going and where—in Luke’s mind—his final destination is going to be. The butterflies from my belly are now flying due-south of there, and have turned into flutters of desire. He hovers over my mound, which thankfully has a Brazilian to die for—something else Katy talked me into, and at this moment in time, I’m so thankful she did.

I lean back against the cold marble of the shower wall for support as his kisses, licks and finally, his mouth arrives…exactly
where I’ve been willing it to go. I feel like he’s only just started his sweet torture, but I really don’t think I can take much more. “Oh, Luke,” I moan, and with this encouragement, he pulls my bottom in toward him so he can get even deeper. With the thought of him wanting me this badly, it turns me on even more.

My hands grip his hair as I lift my left leg up over his shoulder and wrap it around his back for support. With this movement, and the fact I’m unconsciously pushing the back of his head gently in toward me, his skilled tongue goes even deeper. I groan in total appreciation of the mixture of feelings raging inside me—love, need, lust, desire; they are all apparent.

Luke’s tongue starts to dart around my clit quickly, and then he slows it down as it slides into me. With this expert combination of fast and slow over and over, I can feel the swell of my orgasm starting. It feels like Luke’s tongue is pulling on strings straight through to the butterflies in my stomach, guiding and urging them to escape through my core in an explosion of bright colourful wings, and he’s relentless.
Oh, wow!

The waves of arousal are thick and fast now, and just too much to bear. I’ve risen and risen and feel as if I’m about to fall from a great height, and I scream out Luke’s name, brazenly thrusting myself at him as I grab his hair and push his head further into me. Slowly, the end of my orgasm is in sight, and I am gradually coming down and gasping for breath, still shuddering from the earth-moving experience I’ve just been through.

I slowly remove my leg from Luke’s shoulder, and I hold on to him to steady myself as I realise how weak my legs now feel. He gives me a few last soft licks and kisses, and when he looks up at me through those long, dark lashes, and with those light blue jewels of his piercing into my core, I feel the butterflies flutter back to me, and they are heading south with desire once again. It seems we are on the same wave-length as Luke’s hooded, lustful eyes search their way back up my body. His mouth starts a trail of slow, teasing kisses as it makes its way back up to mine.

Luke’s arousal is so prominent, it’s prodding its way across my belly, so I reach down and touch the tip as Luke groans his appreciation. I start to rub my petite hands slowly up and down his shaft. Each time my hands come back up to his tip, I play with the ridge underneath, rolling my thumb around and around it. Luke sucks in his breath, bending his knees to get lower and closer to the entrance of where I so want and need him to be, and by the look on his face, it’s where he desperately wants to be as well.

I still as the tip touches me; I haven’t let go of him, so now I guide his manhood into me, all the time looking him straight in the eye, not losing contact for a second, too afraid of missing any magic of the moment. Luke starts his slow thrusts, pushing himself into me leisurely but deeply.

I curl my arms around his neck, enjoying the rhythm of him sliding in and out. As the thrusts become harder and faster, Luke’s breathing becomes more ragged. I can feel that fire in my belly again as we try to kiss, but the rhythm is too fast. It’s like we want to consume one another—mind, body and soul. Then, as he feels me clench around him, he knows I am lost to him, and I know this is his undoing. With the last few thrusts, I call out incoherently, totally unaware of what I’m saying. My next moment of consciousness is of Luke shouting my name as our bodies clasp to one another. As we slowly get our breathing and minds back to a state of normality, light kisses are all we can manage, because an angel and her soul-mate are truly spent.

When I recover at least enough to speak, I roll my eyes mockingly, saying, “Nice to see it was just a
quickie
in the shower. Now I’m really going to be late for work.” I try to act all serious, but the grin I am trying unsuccessfully to hide gives me away. Luke’s face is deadly serious as he tells me in his husky, post-sex voice, “Get it into your head, Angel, there is no such thing as a quickie with us, because each time we make love, I want to taste every inch of you just to give me peace of mind and reassurance that you are real and completely mine.”

Oh, dear, a deep clench down there is not what I need right now
, so just as Luke heads in for a kiss, I do the hardest thing I ever have to do to him, and that is deny him. I push him back gently; the shock on his face tells me this is not a normal act from me, so he puts his arms up to trap me against the wall of the shower, but I’m too quick for him and duck under his arm and away to keep a safe distance.
Who am I kidding? There’s no distance far enough.
As quick as a flash, he grabs my hand and pulls me back to him where we both know I belong, and as I hit his chest, his arms encompass me as I whisper, “I love you.” I really don’t want my gorgeous man upset at the thought of being pushed away.

Luke looks down at me smiling, so I know he’s okay and not brooding from my actions. I continue, “I love the way you look at me. I love the things you say to me. I love the way you touch me, and the way you always make me feel so special—which is a big feat considering the low opinion I have of myself most of the time.” I say it light-heartedly, but I look down wistfully at my embarrassed admittance of my low self-esteem to him. Luke puts his finger under my chin and lifts my head back up. “Don’t ever look down,” he says. “A beautiful girl like you should always have her head held high. You’re the most gorgeous, thoughtful and caring woman I’ve ever known.”