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“You’re so damn beautiful, Jasmine. You make me ache every time I look at you,” Luke says, his voice dropping down to this rumbly tone that sends shivers over my skin and fills me with hunger. I crave Luke. I’ve never felt anything like it before.
“Luke, in case it has escaped your notice, I’m a sure thing, you don’t have to butter me up,” I mutter, looking out at the stars.
We’re still at the dam. We left to go pick up some takeout, but Luke insisted on coming back here to eat. Now, we’re lying back on the concrete watching the stars. I could tell him that I don’t like this place, but I know Luke. He would expect me to tell him why.
I’m not ready for that.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be.
“Who did it, Red?” Luke grumbles and I can tell he’s pissed. There’s one thing about it, when Luke is pissed, it makes sense to pay attention.
“Who did what?” I ask, squinting, as my forehead creases in confusion. I can’t help but wonder what has set him off. Up until now, Luke has been relaxed and even loving toward me today.
“Made you feel like you weren’t worthy, or belittled you,” he mutters, sitting up. I sit up too, but before I can manage to put distance between us—which is my first instinct—Luke reaches over and somehow half lifts my body, so I’m secured in his lap, facing him.
“Luke,” I can’t help but gasp, my knees pressed into his sides, my hands braced on his forearms.
His eyes are intense, heated and definitely pissed. His hands are holding onto my hips firmly, and I can feel the heat from them—it seems to burn me.
“Who did it? Tell me and I’ll take care of them.”
“Take care?” I squeak, sensing a thread of violence running through him that I’ve never detected before. I’ve seen him angry, but this is different.
He’s pissed.
“Who hurt you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“Don’t try to bullshit me, Red. Was it your family?”
“Luke, let’s just—”
“Tell me who. You wear that tough exterior of yours well, but you’re not fooling me. Not after today, so talk to me.”
“What if I don’t want to talk about it?” I grumble, getting pissed off, because he’s not letting it drop.
“Tough shit, we’re going to.”
“Why? Because you say so? I hate to break it to you, Luke, but just because you want me to talk about something, it doesn’t mean I will.”
“You will, because that’s what people in relationships do,” he argues.
“How many relationships have you been in?” I ask him, my eyes narrowing.
“Jasmine—”
“How many?” I insist, my voice filled with a mixture of anger, curiosity and fear.
Shit, what if he has a wife?
“Damn it, woman!”
“Oh my God!” I screech, pushing away from him and trying to get up. His hold intensifies to bruising force and he refuses to let me leave.
“Red—”
“Are you married?” I cry. “You are, aren’t you? I should have known. No one looks the way you do, fucks the way you do, and manages to—”
“You like the way I fuck, Red?” he asks, a smile pulling at his lips.
I slap my hands flat on his chest, the sound loud, my palms burning from the impact.
“Don’t pull that shit on me! You’re married.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’m not married,” he growls.
“You have a woman you fuck regularly then,” I mutter. “Whatever—”
“Yeah I do have a woman I fuck regularly,” he admits, and my body goes solid. There’s a pain that bubbles up inside of me that fills my entire body with a sick feeling. It spreads over me like a virus, threatening to drag me under. My stomach churns.
“I knew it,” I groan, my voice little more than a hoarse whisper, because I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sick.
“There’s this crazy-ass redhead who blew into my life and I can’t seem to get enough of her. I fuck her every chance I get and when I’m not fucking her, I think about fucking her. She’s like a fire in my blood and she’s burning me from the inside out. I’m obsessed with her,” he growls as I go still, listening to him.
“That doesn’t sound like you like it…or me…I mean, if I’m the redhead you’re talking about and I assume I am, although you know what they say—”
“It’s you and right now, I honestly don’t know if I like it or not, Jasmine. You’re driving me crazy. I’m trying to make shit better for you and you go off like a crazy woman.”
“Luke—”
“You’re making me crazy.”
“You make me crazy, too,” I mumble.
“At least there’s that, I guess,” he grouses.
“So, you’re saying you don’t have someone important in your life?”
“Jasmine—”
“I mean, besides whatever you and I have going on,” I add, blushing and not really knowing why.
Luke lets out a grunt under his breath, his hand going to the back of his neck and he rubs it, his face appearing frustrated. This tingle of fear begins at the base of my spine.
