Page 49 of The Vengeance You Crave
Grabbing a towel, figuring it's my only option to hide the car crash that my body is right now.
The bedroom door is already open, so I slip through it in search of Luca. I know he's still here. I know he wouldn't have just left me here for someone else to find.
And I soon find that I'm right when I round the corner and find him passed out on the sofa wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs.
His tattooed arm is thrown over his head, making the muscles in his torso tighten in the most delicious way.
His eyes are closed, his dark lashes resting down on his cheeks. His full lips are parted as his shallow breaths pass. Lowering myself to the coffee table before him, I sit and just take him in. Noting all the differences from the boy I used to know.
His body was always a work of art. His dad ensured he was always in peak condition so Luca could follow his footsteps into the NFL. Even back then, his six-pack and V were well defined. But now, they're downright deadly.
His hair falls down onto his brow, making my fingers twitch to move it back, to feel its softness against my skin. But I can't. If I touch him. If I wake him, I'm never going to get out of here.
Ripping my eyes from his face, I track the lines of his abs before dropping lower.
I gasp when I discover that his cock is straining against the fabric of his underwear and my mouth waters.
The image of dropping to my knees, of pulling it out and sucking him while he's asleep fills my mind and my core throbs once more with its missing release.
How long would it take to wake him like that?
I'd like to think that one day I might get a chance to find out because I already know that today isn't the day. He already thinks I'm a slut. Him waking to find me doing that is only going to confirm his suspicions.
But the truth is, there isn't anyone else in the world I want to be a slut for. No one has ever turned me on or affected me in the way Luca does. Even when he's being wicked, even last night when the most sensible thing to do would have been to run, I couldn't.
I gave my heart, body, and soul over to him years ago, and he never gave it back. I fear that he never will and that I'll always be bound to him in some way.
Knowing that I need to do something before he begins to stir, I push from the coffee table and swipe up his discarded jersey then head back to the bedroom.
Dropping the towel to the end of the bed, I slip his shirt over my head. His powerful scent gives me pause for a second. My need to be wrapped in his arms instead of his number consumes me.
I'd give anything for him to tell me that he believes me and to hold me. Anything but risk the person I need to protect from all of this. Anything but that.
Finding his pants abandoned on the floor, I don't think twice about shoving my hand into his pockets to locate both the key to my freedom and my cell that he stole last night.
With both in hand, I tiptoe back through the main living area, grab my purse from the floor and head for the door.
I push the key into the lock and twist but the damn thing doesn't budge.
"What the—"
"Nice try, baby."
His deep voice, rough from sleep, vibrates through me, and damn it if my nipples don't immediately harden.
"Did you really think I'd allow you to slip away from me so easily?"
I blow out a long breath.
Yeah. Yeah, I did.
"I need to go home, Luca. I've got work and—"
"You've called in sick."
His words finally make me move and I spin toward him, forcing my eyes to remain on his face as he sits on the arm of the couch, almost his entire body naked for me to feast on once more.
"I'm s-sorry, I've what?"
