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“Meaning?”
“I’m on birth control.”
Shit. So much for that idea, but birth control can be stopped. It’s only a matter of time. This woman is mine, now and always.
And I’m not finished with her yet.
Despite the wrecked kitchen, I scoop her up from the table and hold her against my chest. She’s still catching her breath, moaning softly as she curls up with her head tucked beneath my chin.
“What are you doing?” I can barely hear her whispered question as I carry her through the living room and up the stairs.
“Taking you to bed. I’m not even close to being done with you.”
5
NOELLE
When I wakethe next morning, I find myself alone in bed. A delicious ache between my legs, and a memory of pleasure so deep it could’ve only been my imagination, but it wasn’t. What we did last night was real. I had a few one-night stands in college; I’m a big girl and can handle it but standing in my kitchen, which is now gleaming as if nothing happened during dinner, leaves me a little unnerved. Not that I’m ungrateful—I wasn’t looking forward to having to clean up last night’s mess. The question now is, when did he do it? How was he so quiet? And how did he make himself so comfortable in my kitchen?
I run a finger over the top of the table, and it comes back clean. Of course, it does, and he even mopped the floor.
I look out the window toward his house. It looks the same as ever. Is he there? Did he seriously go out of his way not to wake me up so he could sneak back home? How weird is that? Actually, how disappointing. That’s the worst of it, how disappointed I am.
I wish I wasn’t. Last night was unexpected, and it is something I’ll remember for a long time. I’ve never experienced anything like that before—the closest I’ve ever come to anything that hot and exciting and dangerous was when a boyfriend blindfolded me before sex. That’s child’s play compared to what Luka can do.
That doesn’t mean it has to happen again or that it ever will. We both got caught up in the moment; that’s all that was. We aren’t an item or anything.
However, it would’ve been nice if he had given me the chance to tell him that rather than running off on me.
With a heavy heart, I start making coffee. Maybe it’s for the best he left. Who knows what the morning would’ve held? Trying to face each other after last night would only be awkward and uncomfortable. Plus, we’re like squabbling old people, who tend to argue at the drop of a hat, so this is probably for the best.
When the back door to the house opens, letting a cold breeze in, my heart leaps into my throat, and I spin around, ready to reach for a knife. Luka stops dead in his tracks, eyes widening though his gaze is filled with anything but fear. “Sorry. I figured you would still be in bed.”
I close my bathrobe a little tighter, my heart fluttering and my stomach in knots. Even though he scared me half to death, I can’t help but smile. “Where did you go?”
He holds up a paper bag from the bakery around the corner. “I borrowed your keys.” Right, they’re not on the hook where I usually keep them. I didn’t even think to look there.
“That’s okay. Thank you, this is very thoughtful of you.” Now I remember something else about last night: he’s very comfortable around here. For somebody so standoffish and even rude, he doesn’t think twice about getting familiar with my home and my things.
I can’t even bring myself to be annoyed. Now, I understand how sorry I would’ve been to let go of last night without saying a word.
“Thank you for cleaning up the kitchen.” I wave a hand around while he unpacks fresh bagels and what looks like every add-on the bakery sells: cream cheese, butter, jam, smoked salmon spread.
“It was the least I could do after causing the mess.” He offers a wince, his shoulders rising. “And I’m sorry about ruining the dinner you worked so hard on. I’m sure you would’ve liked to have leftovers.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I can’t believe he’s suddenly so thoughtful and almost soft-spoken. He’s smiling as he sits at the table, slicing a bagel for me before doing the same for himself. I wish I knew what to make of him, but I don’t. “By the way, everything looks okay outside. I checked the lights before I went down to the bakery. No cut wires.”
“That’s a relief. Most mornings, I never know what I’m going to find.”
“You won’t have to worry about it much longer. Christmas will be here soon enough.”
“That’s depressing,” I tell him with a laugh. “I guess there’s always next year to look forward to.”
He doesn’t say anything, settling for a soft grunt before taking a bite of a bagel slathered in cream cheese. Whatever he’s thinking, it doesn’t make him happy—a familiar set of lines appear between his eyebrows and over the bridge of his nose. It feels like he went away all of a sudden. Like he sunk inside himself.
I want to bring him back. “So, what are you doing today?”
