“Is that a challenge?”
“No, it’s a fact.”
“Why?”
“Because these aren’t my memories.
They’re my client’s.”
“So, you don’t bring men in here?”
“Just you, handsome.” I smile shyly.
“Good to know.”
“Actually,” I continue, looking him square in his bright blue eyes. “I’ve never invited a man to my home before.”
His eyes widen and he inhales deeply. “Your bed?”
“Just me.”
“That’s about to change.” He grasps my hand and pulls me out of the studio, slamming the door behind us, leading me back into the house.
“Where is your bedroom?”
Chapter Seven
Holy Hell, he’s a man on a mission.
Luke is dragging me through the house, breathing hard, his eyes feral.
“Your bedroom?” he repeats, and I point up the stairs, unable to articulate words.
I don’t remember my own name! And he hasn’t even touched me.
Wow.
As he pulls me up the stairs, I get a great view of his tight ass, and my stomach clenches.
“To the right,” I finally find my voice and he pulls me into my bedroom, shuts and locks the door, and pulls me to him.
There’s still plenty of light coming in the windows off the blue waters of the sound, and for just a moment I stand with his arms around my waist, my hands on his broad shoulders, and drink in the sight of his beautiful face.
“You’re so handsome,” I whisper.
He grins at me and leans down to nuzzle my neck, gently walking me backward to the bed. Thank God I made it this morning!
I’m expecting him to push me back onto the bed, but instead he steps back from me, not touching me at all, and his burning eyes run up and down my body, finally landing on my own eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” What?
“Are you having doubts?”
“Hell, no, I just want to make sure this is what you want, baby. If you say no, that’s fine, but please, God, don’t say no.”
Oh wow. He’s giving me control, and I don’t know if it’s because of what I told him in the car, or if he’s just being chivalrous, and frankly, I don’t care.
This is my choice.
He is my choice.
Staring him square in the eye, I say with a surprisingly sure voice, “Luke, please get us naked and make love to me.”
He smiles, that huge, heart-stopping smile and whips his t-shirt over his head.
Whoa!
He’s all lean muscle and broad shoulders. His stomach is sculpted, with those incredibly sexy lines that run down the hips and to his cock. His arms are muscular… he’s just so… strong.
I raise my hand to touch him, but he shakes his head, still smiling. “If you touch me, this will go much faster than either of us wants.”
Oh. “We have all night.”
“And we’ll be taking advantage of it, baby, trust me. But this first time is going to be special.”
I start to take my shirt off and he stops me.
“I’d like to do that.”
“Well then hurry up!” I hear the whine in my voice, but can’t stop it, and I can’t help but laugh with him.
“My pleasure,” he shucks off his shorts and underwear in one fast movement, and suddenly I’m getting a front-row view of Luke in all his glory.
He is simply a Greek God. His body is perfect in every way.
And he wants me!
He walks to me and grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head. He runs his fingers under my bra straps and leans in to nibble on my neck, just under my ear lobe.
“Luke,” I murmur.
“Easy, baby.” He reaches behind me, deftly unclasps my bra and peels it down my arms. He makes quick work of my shorts and panties, pushing his hands between the fabric and my ass, cupping it, then slowly gliding them down my legs.
Oh, he’s good with his hands!
He stands back up, and lifts me and suddenly I’m cradled in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he kisses my lips softly as he lowers me onto the bed.
“Sweet Jesus, you’re beautiful, Nat,”
he whispers this against my throat and I can do nothing but close my eyes and grip on to the blanket beneath me.
“Let’s find those tattoos.”
I smile as he kisses and licks his way down to my breasts, then gasp as he tugs one nipple firmly into his mouth and laves it with his expert tongue.
Lightning shoots straight to my groin, and my hips start to shimmy of their own accord. I moan his name and twist his soft blonde hair in my fingers.
“Hush, baby,” he runs his hand down the opposite breast and tweaks it with his thumb.
“Oh, God!”
My body’s response to him is overwhelming.
I feel him smile against my skin, and he moves down, suddenly rolling me onto my right side. “What have we here?”
“Perhaps another tattoo?” My voice cracks as he runs his hand from my left hip to my shoulder.
“What does it say, baby?”
It’s script, as are all of my tats, that runs up my ribs, but I’m too busy trying to remember to breathe to talk.
“Natalie, what does it say?” he kisses each letter gently, arms wrapped around my hips, braced on his elbows.
“It says, ‘Be happy for this moment.’”
I groan, and continue. “‘This moment is your life.’”