I set up the guest room for Weeks with everything he’ll need, hoping he’ll feel like he’s at home.
I laugh to myself when I exit the guest room, shutting the door. Weeks’ little welcome present from me. Thank God for Prime delivery.
Luca is back to being weird again. Last night, he sent me to bed but didn’t come to the room for at least two hours. I didn’t ask him about it; I know that we as people need our own time to think and decompress. Do I want to push? Of course, but he gives me my space, so I need to do the same.
Stopping at the fraternity wasn’t on the plan when we headed home, but I needed that final nail in the coffin, so to speak. And seeing it as it is now, I got some closure.
Sucking Luca’s cock while kneeling on their burned ashes and rubble—that was afuck youto all of them. Taking my voice back, doing what I wanted to do in that space where my free will was taken by them.
I want to give Luca what they took away from me… I want to give him all of me, every single piece, but even over a year later, I don’t know if I’m mentally there to do that. It would take a piece of my soul back and place it in the spot where they stole it. I never thought I’d want a man to have all the control while taking my ass, but this is one thing I’m still scared of. They scared me both mentally and physically. The pain that ripped through mewas unworldly. My trust in Luca is profound, but what happens when I decide I’m ready and it comes crashing down, because I truly wasn’t?
I want to take my power back. And with Luca, I can do that. That man worships the ground I walk on.
Placing the roast in the oven, I decide I want to give Luca that part of me I never thought I’d want to give.
This is when it would be a good time to have girlfriends…“Absolutely fucking not,” I reprimand myself, reminding myself why I don’t want them, and I have two words: Catherine Briggs. Just thinking of her makes me want to vomit.
Grabbing a glass, I pour myself some wine, tip it back, swallow it in one gulp, and immediately refill it.
“Wow, what’s the rush?”
I jump back at the voice coming from my living room. “Fuck.” I wipe my chin of the dribbled red liquid before setting the glass down.
Holding up both his hands, he says, “Sorry.” Weeks grins at me, showing that he truly isn’t sorry. Asshole.
“What are we celebrating?” He stands at the bar.
Weeks is tanned and smaller than the other men. But what he lacks in size, he makes up for in the way he looks; he has a no-shit-taking attitude, tattoos on his neck, and buzzed black hair. I know little about him, just what he’s told me. Other than that, I just know Luca trusts him, and that means I should too. Also, he’s one who likes to enforce on those who have fucked up. Flashbacks of the garage, Tim, shears, and fingers hit my memory. Luca surrounds himself with men who walk the same line he does, and I love that about him.
“I have your room all set up for you.” I point upstairs before walking toward him. “It’s the third door on the right.” I leave him with a smile and let him get situated, while I go to look for Luca.
The door leading to the garage opens quietly, not giving me away, when I spot Luca, shirtless, leaning under his car’s hood. Music plays, and he’s in a totally different world as I take him in. The way his back muscles move with each movement, the enormous burning tree tattoo on his back glistens with perspiration. My eyes roam to his hands, watching them work magically, just knowing how magical they truly are.
Using the doorframe to prop myself up, I take slow sips of my wine, enjoying the show. This man is everything I could have ever dreamed up for myself. Everything I never knew I needed or wanted. I smile behind my wineglass as he finally notices another presence in the garage. When he makes eye contact with me, his hair falls into his eyes. “Hey, baby.” It comes out gruffly. I walk toward him, licking my lip, tasting the wine before leaning into him, letting him get a taste of it. Pulling back, he smiles at me. “Weeks all set up?”
Laughing, I say, “I’m sure he is.”
Luca squints at me as he wipes his greasy hands. “What was that laugh for?”
“I left him a little surprise up there. Something to keep his bed warm for him.”
With the last word leaving my mouth, I hear my name called out, “Rowan!”
I straighten up, holding in my laugh when Luca yells, “In here.”
“Traitor!” I jerk my head around to look at him.
He blows me a kiss. Fucker.
I choke on my laugh when Weeks bursts in holding a blow-up doll; the leg folds in half as he walks through the doorway.
“Seriously?” Weeks shakes the doll.
From behind me, I hear Luca lose it. “What the fuck.”
“Welcome home,” I maniacally laugh out.
Weeks stands the doll up next to him and places his finger inside its open plastic mouth. “Hey, I think this will work.”
