Impulsive (3 page)

“I know, right? I told her to bring the kids here until she figures this out.” Her mother sighed and sniffled. “Don’t ever fall in love, Tasha. Don’t ever get married, do you hear me?”

“Don’t worry, Ma. I’m never getting married.” Watching her parents’ brutal divorce unfold had cured her of any illusions about matrimony. Passionate arguments and long periods of bitter silence had peppered their marriage. Rumors of her father’s indiscretions had swirled through Tasha’s teenage years, making high school unbearable. She’d been
that
kid—the one with the fucked-up parents and the pitying stares.

“I never dreamed he could do something like this. If I’d known, I’d never have married him. And now my life is ruined.” Her mother broke into full-scale sobbing.

“Mom, please don’t cry.” Throughout her life, her mother had always been the strong one, the one holding the family together and pretending everything was okay. Hearing her anguish brought the sting of tears to Tasha’s eyes. She wanted to reach through the phone and hug her. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

“Easy for you to say, living in the city. You should be here. I need you, Tasha.” And here it came. The guilt trip. “Your sisters need you. It’s time to rally the troops.”

“I’ll come see you soon, Mom.” Tasha’s finger hovered over the end button. “I need to go. I’ve got a houseful of guests.”

“Okay. I love you. Don’t forget to call your father for me.”

“I love you, too, Mom. I’m not calling Dad. I’ll call a plumber. Have your attorney set up a time for him to get his stuff.” She ended the call and tapped the phone against her forehead, teeming with frustration. She was a fixer, the one everyone in her family called to repair their problems. Need a babysitter? Call Tasha. Got a flat tire? Call Tasha. The burden of responsibility grew heavier with each passing day.

“You okay?” Luke asked. She lifted her eyes to find him frowning at her from the end of the hallway.

“I’m fine,” she said, and forced a tight smile.
 

“How’s she doing?” He stalked toward her and leaned a shoulder against the wall. Concern etched lines in his forehead.

“The same, I guess.”
 

Luke knew the story. He’d been the one to hold her when she’d learned about her father’s defection, had stroked her hair and let her cry into his shirt. She remembered the strength and hardness of his chest, the smell of fabric softener from his shirt, and the rough stubble of his chin against her forehead. He made her feel safe and protected.

“She’s got a leak or something.” Tasha waved a hand in the air. “I told her I’d call a plumber.”

“We could head over there tomorrow when I get off work,” Luke said. “I could take a look at it for her. It might be something simple.”

“That would be awesome,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”

“You know I don’t mind.” His smile lit up the shadowed hallway. “You know I’m here for you. Right?”
 

An ache started at her toes and coursed upward into her chest, filling it until her lungs burned. Her family was self-destructing, and she was powerless to stop it. She needed a distraction from her problems. Something to replace the hurt and betrayal. She found it in the compassionate face of her best friend.

“Well, there is something you can do…”
 

A devilish grin twisted his lips. She tangled her fingers in his T-shirt and tugged him into the bathroom. By the heat in his eyes, he knew exactly what she needed. He slid the pocket door shut behind them and lifted her onto the edge of the counter. She parted her knees and invited him to stand in the V of her thighs. It felt good to have him there, solid and dependable.
 

“Are you sure you want to go there?” Luke asked.
 

The husky timbre of his voice scratched over her ears. His hands were already on her knees, sliding her skirt up to her hips. She shivered, wanting more, concentrating on the roughness of his palms and the eagerness of his tone. Sex always cured her pain, but usually it was a random hookup at a club. The feel of a man’s hands on her body bolstered her confidence and swept her away from the reality of her life.
 

“Let’s not overthink it,” she whispered as she unsnapped his shorts and slid down the fly. The length of him pressed against her palm. Hot. Hard. Ready. “Very impressive,” she murmured. “Can I ask how you fit all that in your pants?”

He chuckled into her neck. “Shut up, Gretzky.”

The barrier between them—the one separating friends from lovers—crashed down around her ankles, along with her panties. His mouth found her fluttering pulse at the base of her jaw. The wet heat of his breath burned against her bare skin. One of his long fingers slid into her silky depth, testing her and finding her slick. His finger glided over her clit, brushing the piercing there, and froze.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. He rarely used the F-word. Knowing she’d shocked him gave her a rush of satisfaction.

“It’s called a piercing,” she replied and nipped his earlobe.

“Can I see?” he asked. He parted her knees wider.

“Not now,” she said on an inhaled breath. The tip of his finger swirled around the delicate nub. Shards of pleasure shot along her legs. “Focus, Jameson.”

“Condom?” he asked, his voice thick with desire.

She groped beneath the counter until her hand found the appropriate drawer and the box tucked inside. She ripped the packet open with her teeth and slid the condom over his length. His breath hissed out like a steam kettle rising to a boil. The head of his cock nudged against her entrance. He shoved in, one delicious inch at a time. They groaned together.

“Oh my God, you feel good,” he said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.

“Don’t just stand there. We need to be quick,” she said.
 

“Never been told that before,” he replied dryly. His fingers tickled the backs of her knees, lifting them higher. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”

When he pulled out to the tip then slid in again, she slipped into the sink, the porcelain cold against her bare bottom. She giggled and tried to right herself. He laughed into her hair and gripped her bottom with both hands, pulling her onto him and settling her deeper. The angle of entry hit her at the perfect spot. A moan trembled through her.

“Shhhh…not so loud,” he hissed.

 
She knew he’d feel good, but she hadn’t expected this, this burning pleasure-pain. The taste of salt from his skin, the scratch of his calloused palms on her bare thighs, and the sound of his harsh breathing unleashed all her repressed desires. “Oh, yes.”

“Gretzky,” he warned. “Somebody will hear us.”
 

“Then hurry up,” she said, and was rewarded by another punishing thrust.
 

Fire radiated from her center and outward into her limbs. Needing more, she clung to him. He picked up a fervent rhythm. With both hands braced against the mirror behind her, he drove into her over and over and over. This was what she needed, and he gave it to her with gusto. The musky scent of sex filled the tiny bathroom. He bent to catch one of her nipples in his teeth and tongued the piercing through her shirt. The sting sent her over the edge.

Ripples of release shook her legs. She bit her lip to stifle her cry. The heated rush of adrenalin and endorphins sang in her blood. She’d expected sex, but this was so much more. Watching his expressions, nostrils flaring and lips parted, gave her as much enjoyment as the act itself. With his right hand, he cupped her knee and lifted her leg higher, shifting his hips to hit her G-spot. Her body clutched and spasmed around him, coming in wave after wave.

“You like that?” he murmured in her ear. “You like me fucking you, Tasha?”
 

God, yes, she liked it. She liked the taste of him, the friction between them, the small grunts leaving his throat. He shifted her again, leaning her back toward the mirror, and pumped into her. Veins popped out on his forearms. This was too much, too intense, too perfect. Every stroke of his cock left her bewildered and desperate for more. When she nipped his shoulder, he fisted a hand in her hair and tugged her head back, staring into her eyes, driving into her with furious strokes. The muscles of his back flexed beneath her fingers. His cock jerked inside her when he let go.
 

“Are you in there, Tasha?” A knock on the bathroom door preceded Karly’s voice.
 

They froze. Tasha’s gaze flew to Luke’s face. A muscle in his jaw ticked. The tendons stood out on his neck. The broad expanse of his chest heaved with each labored breath. He was still coming inside her, the struggle to remain quiet visible on his features. God, he was beautiful like this, flushed from orgasm, buried deep within her.

“Everything okay?” Karly asked again.
 

“Fine,” Tasha said in an unfamiliar voice. Luke exhaled, his gaze still locked with hers. “Just give us a minute.”

“Us? Are you having a party in there or something?” Karly asked.

“Uh, the toilet overflowed,” Luke said. He shuddered as he slipped out of her, but his voice remained controlled and casual. “We’re just cleaning up.” He pulled off the condom and zipped up, while Tasha retrieved her panties and straightened her skirt.

“Okay. Well, there’s some kind of timer going off in the kitchen,” Karly said.
 

“Oh, um, it’s the pie,” Tasha said. Luke gave her a nod, and she slid the door open. Karly’s eyes roved over them, lingering on Tasha before landing on Luke. Tasha turned to find him holding the plunger in his hand, eyes sinful and shaded.
 

“Well, that should do it,” Luke said as he set the plunger beside the toilet. “Let me know if you have any more problems.”

“Thanks,” Tasha said to him. “I had no idea you were so handy.” Their eyes met. The tiniest smile twitched the corners of his mouth.
 

“Anytime,” he replied.

Chapter 4

Everyone focused on Tasha and Luke when they returned to the dining room. At least, Tasha felt like they did. Luke pulled her chair from the table and slid it beneath her. His thigh brushed hers when he claimed the seat next to her. Her body, oversensitive from their frantic coupling, answered his touch with a white-hot tingle.
 

Interesting.

“The limo will pick us up before the concert,” Jack was saying, although his words barely registered in Tasha’s mind. She was too caught up in reconciling the rendezvous in the bathroom to comprehend. Her best friend had just fucked her like a stallion. A hot, freaky, mind-blowing stallion. The place between her legs throbbed. Luke had been hiding some mad skills. She’d expected him to be good, but damn… And the look on his face when he’d finished? Sexy. Fuckable. Intense. The thud of her heart against her ribs echoed in her ears.
 

Lord, have mercy.

Randy cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Bastard. He was too smart for his own good. Everyone else was staring at her, too. Was it obvious? They had to know. How could they not know?
Heat rushed into her cheeks. She dropped her eyes to her plate and tried to regain the thread of conversation.
 

From beneath her lashes, she cast a furtive glance at Luke. Aside from a smudge of her lipstick on his cheek and a red flush over his neck, he looked casual. He reached for the bottle of wine and filled his glass then hers, leaning into her shoulder. Before, she wouldn’t even have noticed the contact. Now, her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened. The heat from his body warmed her side. She was hyper aware of his breathing, the movement of his throat when he swallowed, and the flutter of his ultra-long eyelashes when he glanced down at her.

Damn. Calm down, Gretzky.

“I got two extra tickets in case you want to take Heath or Rachel,” Jack said, addressing her and Luke.

Heath? With a start, Tasha realized everyone, including Luke, was waiting for her reply. She forgot about Heath months ago. On the odd Saturday night, he still drunk-texted her, but she ignored them, preferring to hang out with Luke.
 

“Uh, maybe. I don’t know,” she said at last and traced a fingertip around the rim of her wineglass. “I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

“What about you, Luke? Are you taking Rachel?”
 

“We broke up,” he said.
 

“Why?” Ally asked. “I really liked her.”

Although Tasha had never met Rachel, she felt like she knew her, having heard Luke’s end of their phone conversations. For whatever reason, Luke never introduced her to his girlfriends.
 

“What’s wrong with this one?” Randy asked.

Luke shrugged. “She was nice enough. I just wasn’t into her.”

Was it her imagination, or was there tension in his voice? She glanced up and found his gaze focused on her face, amber eyes shuttered. A finger of dread tickled her thoughts. Was he regretting their hookup? He seemed to enjoy himself. Maybe he wasn’t into her, either.

Oh, God.
 

She never questioned her choices. She chose a path and plunged ahead at breakneck speed. Full-throttle. No brakes. Now she was second-guessing herself and him.
 

“Why don’t you take Sherry?” Karly interjected.
 

What? Wait. No.
 

Sherry’s crush on Luke exposed him to constant teasing by the gang. She was a sweet girl, though, and the type Luke usually went for. They’d be good together.
 

“I like Sherry,” Ally said. “I’ve got her number if you want it.”
 

A weird pang tightened Tasha’s chest. She rubbed two fingers along her sternum to ease the tension. Probably acid reflux from all the pizza she’d eaten the night before. Luke took her to the pizzeria around the corner on Tuesday nights.

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” Luke replied.
 

Beneath the table, his thigh rubbed against hers, a deliberate demand for her attention. The question in his eyes made her stomach dip. She shifted on her chair, searching for a more comfortable position, finding none because the discomfort was emotional and not physical. The conversation took another turn, away from Tasha and Luke, but the question hounded her for the rest of the night.