Page 68 of Lust
He chuckled and kissed her gently. “Never again.”
“Again starts tonight, right?”
21
Liza wokein Joe’s bed. The sun was yet to shine, but she could feel it in her blood. Sunrise had always been like that for her, a tangible sensation, an anticipation. Perhaps it had something to do with the training she’d received. Much of it had been outdoors. She’d learned to trust her body clock on more than one occasion. And right now, her body clock was ticking along deliciously with tugs of recently pleasured aches.Joe. She grinned.Joey. He didn’t like her calling him Joey, which was precisely why she was going to do it.
Stretching languidly in the sheets, she put her arm out and searched for him, but found the bed empty. Her heart clenched, panic bloomed, but then she heard movement in the living room… no, kitchen. The sizzling of bacon. Eggs… Holy shitballs, her man was making her breakfast.
Scrambling to find her clothes, she settled on his shirt and threaded her arms through the sleeves. She plugged the only two surviving buttons closed. She padded into the kitchen, only to pause at the threshold.
The sight of her mate caused a visceral reaction in her body. Everything froze, lured by his messy morning appeal. Joe stood with his back to her, stirring the sizzling pan. A black apron was tied to his front, but his rear was naked as the day he was born. The globes of his taut ass dimpled as he tensed and relaxed with movement. Olive skinned. Broad-shouldered. Almost too good to be true. He looked good. He cooked. He made love like a machine. All night, they’d lasted. In every position.Mine, she thought, and licked her lips.
With barely contained mischief, she tiptoed over and jumped onto his back like a monkey. He let go of the spatula and steadied her with a small grunt of amusement.
“Morning, Joey.” She kissed him on the prickly cheek, loving the raspiness of his stubble.
“It was going to be a surprise,” he said, voice deep and throaty. “You should go back to bed.”
She slid down his back, pinched his rear, and then fit herself under his arm.
“Sleeping in isn’t my thing,” she said, eyeing the delicious omelet and bacon.
“What is?” he asked. But before she replied, he answered. “Morning workout. I forgot.”
She smiled up at him. “I can take my jog tomorrow. Or a swim. Maybe you can come with me.”
Affectionate eyes met hers. “I’d like that.”
They’d finished eating and were halfway through washing the dishes when Liza finally dared to ask something that had been playing on her mind forever.
“What did my family do to make you hate them?”
Joe wiped his hands on his apron and faced her with an evasive shift of his eyes. “It doesn’t matter now. The reason is moot.”
“Nowthatmakes me want to know the truth. Tell me.”
He gripped the back of his neck and looked at his feet for a long time before lifting his gaze. “I don’t want to start anything. It doesn’t matter. We’re together. That’s all that matters.”
“What the fuck did Parker do?” she growled. Because it had to be him. He was the ringleader in all things. “Tell me, or I’ll force it out of him.”
A long exhale left Joe. “Do you remember at the end of that first summer, we’d arranged to meet up and I had a question to ask you?”
Liza folded her arms. “Of course I remember. That’s the day you gave me the baseball.” She pointed at her face. “You were all bruised up from your dad…” She studied his face, and it wasn’t the kind of expression that proved she was right. He was downcast and cleaning that pan as though it held the answer to his problems. If he was so reticent to let her know, then it could only mean one thing. “Oh, shit. It wasn’t your father who beat you. It was them. My brothers!”
He winced.
“What did they do, Joey?”
“They told me to stay away from you. They said I’d never be good enough, and that I’d only hurt you.”
“Bastards.” How dare they decide what was right for her? Ire built like a rising tide, filling her veins and muscles with tension. She was going tokillthem. Murder them in their sleep. Better yet, she’d shave Parker’s hair off. That would teach the asshole.
“Liza,” Joe said, reaching for her. “It doesn’t matter. They were wrong.”
“Which ones?” she asked, jaw clenched. “Parker? Wyatt?” her mind traveled back. Tony, maybe, but he was too concerned with having fun back then. It was more likely the eldest two.
“Forget it.”
