TWO
LUKE HAD AVOIDED GETTING EMOTIONALLY involved with anyone because he’d been afraid to be weak and vulnerable like his father. He never wanted to give another person that much power over him. It hadn’t occurred to him until he was explaining it to Claire that he’d be more worried about hurting the other person. His father hadn’t cared who he’d hurt. He’d spread misery like the common cold.
Luke couldn’t stand the idea of doing something that hurt Claire. The fear was almost paralyzing, but at the same time, it made the difference between what he felt for Claire and his father’s version of love even clearer. He’d fight anything and anyone, including himself, to keep from causing her pain. And his desire for her was even stronger than the fear.
He glanced over to her as they got closer to the entrance to his building. She hadn’t said more than a handful of words on the ride across town, and he’d give just about anything to know what was going on inside that gorgeous head of hers. He couldn’t hold her hand and shift the car, but he’d he let his fingers brush hers every chance he got. He just hoped she didn’t change her mind about giving them another chance when they got to the familiar underground parking spot for his penthouse.
The last time they’d been there, they’d been on their way to the disastrous attempted threesome with Eric. He couldn’t think about it without remembering the way he’d punished Claire afterwards, using sex and her feelings for him against her. He used orgasms instead of his fists as weapons, destroying what they’d built together. It was the thing that finally drove her away. She’d been completely vulnerable to him, giving him everything and not holding a thing back. She’d begged him to admit he loved her, and instead he’d punished her for loving him.
He turned the car into the underground parking garage and pulled into his empty slot, cutting his gaze to Claire to make sure she didn’t change her mind and try to leap from the car. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line, and she hadn’t said a word in the last five minutes, but she didn’t show any sign of getting ready to bolt. He let out the clutch before he turned the key, ignoring the sound the engine made and hurried to her side to open her door and help her from the car. He held out his hand and when she placed hers in his, he couldn’t help but think she was offering him more than her hand.
Fuck, he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t know how he’d ever deserve her, but he’d do anything he could think of to try to make things up to her including worshiping her with his body, telling her with his words and his touch that he loved her. Now that he’d admitted it to himself, it was as if the floodgates opened, letting his emotions rush in.
Not wanting to push things or rush what it felt like they were slowly starting to build together, he forced himself to keep his touch light, twining his fingers with hers as he led her to the private elevator. The doors opened, and they stepped inside, the mirrors on the walls of the car reflected their image back to him. Claire was pale with shadows under her eyes and the tracks of her tears still visible on her cheeks. She’d lost weight, and instead of looking like a naughty librarian in her black pencil skirt and fuck me heels, she looked like a beautiful, fragile, haunted waif. He just looked haggard, and together they seemed much more like victims of some tragedy, than lovers.
And then her gaze found his, and everything changed. Heat arced between them, the same heat that burned under the surface every time they were together. She turned to face him, and he felt the jolt like a physical thing. It stole his breath and made his heart stop for a second – the length of time it took for her to step into his arms. She reached up to twine her arms around his neck, pulling him to her, and he bent, closing the distance between their lips. Keeping his mouth a whisper from hers, he felt the warm brush of her breath on his lips. Inhaling the intoxicating scent of her, he moved the last fraction of an inch separating them and pressed his lips to hers.
He didn’t crush her or claim her. He took what she offered, giving her back himself in exchange in a kiss that burned so hot, a part of him expected to turn to ash. His missing pieces slid into place, the planets aligned, and for just a moment, the world stopped spinning, lost to everything but the connection between the two of them.
Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.
His hands slid to the back of her head, holding her like the precious soul she was while he tasted the last bit of sweetness on her lips. Dazed and unsure whether it was the sugar or simply the woman who tasted so sweet, he kissed her, giving her his breath and taking hers in return. The doors opened and closed again before he realized what was happening and somehow found the strength to pull away. He wanted so much more from her than he had a right to take up against the wall of the elevator.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, struggling to catch his breath as he pushed the button to open the doors again.
She looked up at him, blinking, her green eyes turning emerald, and he smiled, loving her so much it was a physical ache. Steering her from the elevator, he dug in his pocket and pulled out the key to fob them into the penthouse. She hesitated in the doorway, but he kept her walking forward, determined to move them past the awkwardness of standing in the place where they’d last been happy together before he wrecked things.
The penthouse was spotless. He was neat by nature, and Esmeralda had been in to take care of things. But he hadn’t realized how sterile it felt, not until Claire was standing there with him, bring her life and light into his cold clean space. She took a step away from him, moving further into the room. When she turned to face him, she looked shell-shocked.
“Luke, I don’t know how…” Her voice trailed off, and he closed the distance between them, pulling her into the shelter of his arms.
“I know, sweetheart. We’ll figure it out together. I promise. For now, just let me love you. Please.” He didn’t sound sure. He sounded like he was begging, and if that’s what it took to put her at ease, that’s exactly what he’d do. He’d drop to his knees again and beg for the chance to love her. “Come with me,” he said, taking her hand in his and pulling her gently toward the hallway.
She walked by his side toward his bedroom, but he could feel the hesitancy in her every step, and he hated himself for being the one who’d caused it. When they were together before, she’d given him everything without hesitation. She’d let him have her any way he wanted to, making herself vulnerable over and over as she gave herself to him. In return, he’d wrecked the gift of her love like the torn strings of pearls. If he didn’t fix this, if he couldn’t, he’d never forgive himself.
“I want you, Claire, so much it hurts inside, but I am not going to push you. I won’t try to take anything that you aren’t willing to give me, and if it means we have to wait, then we wait.”
His mouth went dry as sand at the possibility of getting this close and not being able to touch her, but he’d meant it when he said he’d give her whatever she needed to feel safe with him again.
“I want you, too.” When she was the one to tug his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom, he exhaled in relief.
She didn’t hesitate, stepping over the threshold and into his room. He followed, still anchored to her by their joined hands. Turning to face him, she moved into him, stopping just short of pressing her body against his. Cupping her cheek with his free hand, he tipped her beautiful face up to meet his. He kept his gaze locked on hers, willing himself to see what she was feeling, as he bent his head to brush a kiss over her lips.
She was the one to take things deeper, licking the seam of his mouth, easing his lips apart. He didn’t need another invitation. Letting go of her hand so he could reach the small of her back, he pulled her to him, cradling her in his arms as he lost himself in the taste of her. Her soft warm curves filled in the hard lines of his body, and it was the same way her soft warm soul smoothed his sharp edges. Everything about him was better with Claire in his arms.
Unable to pull his lips from hers, he reached between them to start to unbutton her blouse. He moved with deliberate slowness, giving her time to react to his actions. By the time the backs of his fingers were brushing her bare stomach, he could feel her breath coming quick and shallow against his mouth. Instead of rushing to cup her breasts, he forced himself to stop and wait for some clue that she was ready to take things farther.
She didn’t arch toward his hands the way she would have before, offering herself to him. This time she reached for his tie, pulling back from the kiss so she could concentrate on loosening the knotted silk. He stilled his hands, sensing she needed to do this, and as much as he wanted to be inside her, he wouldn’t rush things. They had all the time in the world. There wasn’t anything as important as being with her.
Tugging the tie free with the slide of silk against cotton, she tossed it aside and started to work on the buttons of his dress shirt. His entire focus narrowed to the way her competent hands slid the small, white buttons through the holes, the pale skin of her fingers against the tan skin of his chest as she bared him to her. When she reached his waistband, the breath caught in his throat. He was so hard for her he ached with it, but instead of reaching for his belt, she tugged the shirt free of his slacks, making quick work of the last few buttons before pushing the polished cotton off his shoulders.
As he watched, she bit her bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh between her white teeth. The look of honest appreciation and desire as she pressed her palm against his naked chest was almost enough to send him over the edge. Knowing she wanted him a fraction as much as he wanted her fed his hunger for her.
One shoulder at a time, he slid the silk blouse down her arms, and she took her hands off him just long enough for him to rid her of the garment. He missed her touch the instant it was gone and started to breathe again when her hands were back and then he looked down at her in her simple white lace bra and his breath left him again. She was so fucking beautiful, sexy and innocent at the same time, and he was ready to spend every minute of the rest of his life worshipping at the altar of her body.
With hands that shook from wanting her so much, he reached for the waistband of her skirt, sliding his fingers under the edge until he found the clasp and zipper. He unfastened it and the black skirt slid over her too thin hips and to the floor. Reaching for his hands, she stepped free of the fabric and moved back enough for him to be able to see all of her in the white lace and heels. She hadn’t bothered with stockings and all he could think of was getting past the lace to the woman underneath.
He started to back her toward the bed, but she set her heels, stopping him. It was her turn to reach for him, and when her slender fingers started to unbuckle his belt, he thought about world peace and spreadsheets to keep from coming apart under her hands. He held his breath, keeping his focus on the way she worried her lip with her teeth as she tugged at the belt and wrestled with the clasp on his slacks. He managed to hold still long enough for her to grab hold of the zipper, but when her fingertips brushed the aching head of his cock where it pushed out from the waist band of his briefs, it was more than he could take.
