Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1) (61 page)

Luc

The house is eerily silent at this time of the morning as I reengage the alarm and tiptoe my way toward the kitchen, needing a few minutes to regroup before going upstairs to my sleeping wife and all the hopeful love I’ve spent the last three days trying to outrun.

I’m a total bastard for having fled the way I did that day, but in my defense I’d still been on shaky ground due to her near death and kidnapping, and…well, the thing is that while I revel in the knowledge that my wife now loves me, I am not willing to return the sentiment.

Ever.

So I’d had to run and escape the vulnerable ache that had settled deep inside at her near declaration, lest I do something totally insane, like reciprocate her words.

To be fair to myself I have spent the last days catching up on the work I’d missed while trying to keep the little minx in bed and unaware of the manhunt being conducted for Wesley.

However, and only since I’m so bleeding honest with myself, I know that I could have accomplished it all from my laptop right here at home.

But I couldn’t stay while under siege from my stupid heart, so I’d done the best thing possible and made myself scarce. I’m rock steady now and ready to face her words without doing something monumentally stupid and telling her things she has no place knowing.

Like the fact that I’d almost gone mental when she’d been taken. Like the fact that facing a future without her had almost felled me. Like the fact that I’d wanted to puke just thinking of never giving Benjamin all the brothers and sisters I’d planned to put in my woman.

“Well, hello there, stranger.”

Oh, shite.

I push away from the refrigerator, a bottle of water clenched tightly in my fist as that sultry drawl washes over me, reminding me that I haven’t touched what’s mine in almost a full week.

Bloody hell, Luc, keep it together, man, I caution myself, taking a deep breath before turning to get a look at—

“Jesus, what the hell are you wearing!”

My dick goes rock hard and starts chomping at the bit when I take in her sleep wear. Ashley has a magnificent body, all curves and arse and luscious tits, just the way I like.

I’ve never been capable of not wanting the woman, even sick and looking like death. Now, though…

“Cammy took me shopping this afternoon. Do you like?” she purrs, spinning around to give me a view of her round arse and the almost sheer fabric making up her silk sleep shorts and matching top.

I can’t breath as she turns back and smiles at me.

“I—I can see your…”

My voice trails off and lodges somewhere in my pants when she skips over and leans into the refrigerator, rifling around for God alone knows what with that luscious bum sticking into the air and tempting me mercilessly.

Down, boy, I murmur to my weeping shaft when he gets a look at her arse cheeks peeking out the bottom of her shorts. I’ve just managed to keep from throwing her to the kitchen table to have my wicked way with her when she turns, giving me a close up look at what cold does to the female body.

Her nipples in particular.

“Want some leftovers?”

No, what I want is dessert. Right bloody now.

“Uh, sure,” I say instead, groaning when she dives back into the cool confines and starts rifling around, her plump behind wagging at me the entire time.

I manage to keep myself together and even swallow some water before she’s bouncing to the table and asking me to sit, her own seat directly across from mine.

“Sooo, I wanted to ask you if you’re planning to go to the next therapy session with Ben. Mary said you should have one of those father-son things with him, and she called to confirm.”

I can barely hear as she folds her legs beneath her and leans forward onto her arms, making her top gape with every breath.  I’ve lain awake nights dreaming of those breasts and all the things I’d like to do to them, and now here they are practically begging for me, and I can’t do a thing about it till I’ve got myself in hand.

“Heeellooo? Luc, are you listening to me?”

No, I…

“Sure. I’ll move some things around and be there.”

The food is not going down that easily, despite the hunger I’d felt earlier, and I bloody well know why. I don’t want to eat this sawdust when I have a buffet staring me in the bloody face.

“Okay, cool. So whatcha been up to?”

Nothing. I want to be up you.

Jesus, keep it cool, man, before you attack your wife and ruin the shoddy control you’ve only just gained.

I want to listen to my better self and stop whatever’s happening inside, but the sight of her nipples pressing so firmly against her sheer top is driving all thought but one form my head.

Mine.

“Ash—”

“Oh, never mind, I can see you’re exhausted. Finish up and come to bed; we’re both beat.”

And then she’s gone, skipping her cheeky arse upstairs before I can say one bloody damn word on the contrary.

“Ash!”

“Yeah?” she asks, yawning so widely I see the back of her throat and her lack of tonsils when she turns and gives me a lazy-eyed stare.

When I don’t respond she shrugs nonchalantly and goes on her merry way, her full arse jiggling just the way I like, leaving me alone, hard as a brick and not at all sure what the hell I’d been thinking to assume I could resist her long enough to rebuild my defenses.

***

I wake late the next morning to the soft glide of satin over my lower stomach and morning wood that would scare the most practiced of harlots.

The unsatisfied beast inside roars to life in under a second, ready to collect on the promising package I’d been forced to sleep beside all night while nursing a pounding erection.

She hadn’t made it bloody easy, either with the way she’d squirmed and sighed in her sleep, giving off the occasional moan and shoving her arse closer to the beast chomping at the bit of my control.

I’d wanted nothing more than to turn her over and fall upon her, to gorge myself and make up for the days that I’d been celibate, but her soft snores had put paid to my raging libido, forcing me to grit my teeth and breathe deep as I pulled myself together and let her sleep.

Now, though, all bets are most definitely off as that satiny glide creeps below my hips and ghosts over me, pausing at the crease where my thigh and groin meet.

So close I can feel the heat of her fingers seeping into my sex.

When nothing more happens I bump my hips up and peek down, almost groaning in outrage when I see her slumbering face resting on my chest, her gentle puffs of air stirring the sensitive nub crowning my pec.

She’s bloody fast asleep and half fondling me while I lie here aching like a sore tooth!

“Ash, love,” I mutter quietly, twisting my hips up to slide that hand closer.

Maybe if she feels him she’ll go on instinct.

Her hand slides down and grazes me, making a groan rumble forth at the feel of her warm fingers and the pleasure I crave with every breath.

Right there.

I moan when her hand tightens around me and prepare to start thrusting when she moans and shifts, sending her digits down between my thighs to rest lightly on my balls.

No!

One thigh flops over my leg, bringing her heat over my hips and teasing me with the promise of the treat I really want: her beneath me as I thrust us both to screaming orgasm.

Sweat pops out on my brow, and I groan, feeling my control snap when she starts twisting her hips, searching for the pressure and friction I’m only too happy to provide.

If she’d just move her hand up another bloody inch!

When the connection finally comes I almost lose my load and shove her to the bed. I want to ravish her, take her, reaffirm my possession and re-stamp my claim to her.

I’ve had the nigh overwhelming urge since she’d thrown herself at me in those woods and tried to crawl into my skin.

Damn this woman and her perfection! How the hell am I supposed to keep myself separated from her when all I want is to own her, every smooth, soft inch?

“Oh, God in heaven,” I breathe when her hand skips over my heated balls to curl around my erect shaft. “Oh, love, that’s it,” I whisper, thrusting up with a groan of relief.

I don’t even care that she’s not awake at this point as I push into her fist and cup her arse to grind her heat closer to my hip. All I want is the pleasure of her hands on me and the feel of her taking her pleasure on me.

Just when I reach that point, the point where my balls go hard and draw up, ready to release, her hand falls away and she turns onto her back, moaning out a husky curse.

“Ashley?”

I’m almost positive she’s awake now, so I twist onto my side, ready to kiss her back to life and take what I need.

“Luc?”

“I—”

“Oh my gosh, look at the time! We need to get dressed—Ben’s appointment is in an hour!”

Then she’s up and out of bed, running to the bathroom and leaving me alone with a boner that’s threatening to restrict all blood flow to what’s left of my fracturing brain.

***

That was close, Ash, too close.

Another minute of him rubbing me into his hip and I would’ve been ready to do whatever he wanted just to calm the blazing inferno that had ripped through me.

My plan had almost backfired on me the moment I’d pushed my trembling hand down those rippling abs and felt the heat and hardness I’ve not yet had the chance to fully explore.

I’d wanted nothing more than to sit up and have my wicked way with him while those icy blue eyes stared up at me with lust and greedy need.

But that’s not the plan, I mutter to myself, scrubbing my skin so hard it burns.

The plan is to drive him crazy with lust while making him hunger for the declaration I’d been only too willing to give him without any thought.

Now he has to earn it.

Or so The Goldens have told me.

Finishing my shower quickly, I towel off and run for my closet, doing my best to ignore Lucian and his sprawl against the bed. Seriously, how am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when he’s basically offering his goods up for free?

“Ashley!”

“What? We need to get dressed! We have an appointment,” I yell back, pulling on a pair of ratty Levi’s and a thin knit sweater in a slate gray that matches my eyes.

I’m not dressing like a hoochie today, no matter how much it pisses my girls off. I’m actually more worried about my own control than I am about his at this point, and the more clothes I have on the harder it’ll be for me to just jump him.

“It’s Saturday, love!”

Oh, crapsickles!

Think, Ash. Think.

If I go back to bed now, I know I’ll cave and be all over that hot mess.

“Uh, I promised Ben we’d take him to the zoo,” I lie, schooling my features into a blank mask and walking out only to see him lying exactly as he’d been, only this time the sheets are gone and he’s wearing a wicked grim that makes my belly flop in the nicest way.

“He came in while you were in the shower and told me he’s visiting a friend today, so we’re all alone, love.”

Shit, I’d forgotten that play date. Oh, crap.

“Hmm, okay. Then I’ll go get breakfast ready.”

“Uh, uh-uh love,” he purrs, stretching languidly beneath my drooling stare. “Come back to bed and give us a kiss.”

Uh…

“Uh, I wanted to make pancakes and bacon,” I say lamely, giving myself a strong pep talk about self-control and the end reward. “I’m really hungry.”

That’s what Viv had called it, saying that nothing paid off for staying the course like the prize that is a crumbling man. I highly doubt that their significant others look anything like Lucian, though, so she can just suck it.

“Me too, love. Me too,” he drawls, licking his bottom lip as his eyes move all over my blushing body. “I’m damn near starving for you.”

Christ. What The Goldens don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

With that extremely valid excuse and a million misgivings, I practically dive for the bed and my grinning husband.

What can I say?

I’m a sucker for a confident man.

I’m on top for all of five seconds before he rolls and pins me beneath his weight, his hands ripping at my clothes till I’m naked and pressed against the heat flowing from his skin.

“You’re a sneaky bloody tease,” he growls, bypassing my mouth to latch onto a straining nipple.

Pleasure hits me hard when his teeth bite down softly, holding the hardened nub for his rapidly flicking tongue. He repeats the torture on the other side minutes later and grins down at me when his ministrations have me pulling at him impatiently.

“I thought you were hungry, love,” he teases, chuckling when I growl and lock my ankles at the small of his back, needing him, aching so fiercely between my legs I can’t stand another minute of foreplay.