Home > Anything He Wants: Castaway #1(5)

Anything He Wants: Castaway #1(5)
Author: Sara Fawkes

I put my hand out towards his arm as he laid the picture face down, then pulled it back as he turned around. “Thirsty?” he asked, holding out the glasses. When I shook my head, he shrugged. “More for me then.”

“You’re drunk,” I said, giving him a wide berth.

Lucas held up a finger. “Not drunk. Buzzed.” He stumbled, leaning against a nearby dresser. “Okay, maybe a tiny bit drunk.”

The bottle he carried was nearly empty, and I stared at it disapprovingly. “Is this normal for you?”

Lucas shook his head, paused to think about the question, then shook his head again.

I rolled my eyes, the last vestiges of sympathy burning away. “This isn’t winning you any brownie points,” I said, but my traitorous mouth tipped up into a small grin despite myself.

“I’m curious what my brother saw in you.”

My smile vanished, as did any patience for dealing with the man. “You can leave now.” I marched across the room and opened the door. “I’d like…”

I turned to see him standing only inches behind me, and my words stuttered into silence. I hadn’t even heard him move. I pulled back a step and came up flush against the wall between the bathroom and bedroom doors. Lucas pushed forward, far too close for my comfort, and I put a hand against his chest to keep him back.

It’s a curious thing, having someone this attractive standing so close. Even though I didn’t particularly like the man, there was no denying he was handsome, or that his proximity made my stomach do flip-flops. The scar across his nose and cheek only served to accentuate his features. The smell of expensive wine was like faint cologne, not at all the cloying odor I would have expected. Beneath my hand, I felt the play of muscles beneath warm skin and silk, and I swallowed.

His fingers pushed a strand of hair out of my face, running along my brow, and I shivered. I pressed back against the wall and he followed, my hand the only thing keeping him at bay. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, dipping his face down near my temple. Warm breath flowed against my cheek. “And smart. And fearless. Is that what my brother saw?”

Instead of offending me, his words created a jumble in my head. I stared fixedly at his shoulder, refusing to meet his gaze. His other hand came up to caress my shoulder. The touch burned down my arm, leaving a white-hot trail across my skin, and the hand holding him away weakened its hold, allowing him to press closer.

Perhaps if he’d tried to kiss me or touch me in any way that could be deemed improper, I might have found the will to push him off, but he seemed content to stand this close. Certainly that more than anything left me confused about how to respond. When the back of his hand slid down my neck and across one shoulder, I trembled, my belly clenching.

Remember Anya, part of me whispered. At that moment however, it was difficult to hold my thoughts together enough to remember my own name, let alone the bedroom’s previous occupant. I leaned my head back against the wall as another hand glide across my collarbone, the touch feather light. My eyes fluttered shut, giving in to the fragile grace of skin on skin.

Until I met Jeremiah, I hadn’t realized how desperately I craved contact. My family was gone; I was alone in the world. For three years, I’d pushed aside all else, striving to preserve their legacy to me, until I’d lost my family home to the creditors. After that, my existence was a struggle to survive, to stay one step ahead of homelessness. Jeremiah Hamilton had plucked me from that reality, his touch making me feel more alive than I had in years. Now he was gone, but that burning desire, the need for human contact, remained strong in me, a live wire I couldn’t yet cap.

Lucas leaned his forehead against mine, and as I opened my eyes I saw full lips mere inches from mine. Looking up into blue-green eyes with dark lashes rimming and accentuating the color, I felt my insides melt. “So beautiful,” he murmured again, tilting his head to look at me. Then he leaned forward, warm lips pressing against mine.

There was no demand to the kiss, so for a moment I did nothing. He sucked on my lower lip, grazing the soft flesh with his teeth. I didn’t kiss him back, my body stiff with indecision, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind. When I felt the first dart of his tongue however, my lips parted of their own accord, instinctively allowing him access. My hand on his torso, which had kept him at bay before, gripped tightly at the dark silk, pulling him against my body.

If I thought the soft seduction was all Lucas had, his sudden hunger surprised me. Pressing me hard against the wall, his mouth burned across my lips, and I gave a small sigh. A hand slid around the small of my back, pulling me against his body as the kiss deepened, his tongue teasing me, encouraging me to be a bit bolder. It had the desired effect. I slid my arms around his neck, arching up to him, opening my mouth and allowing him access while at the same time meeting his own ardent advances. Hands curling through his longer hair, I moaned into his mouth, fingers dancing down along his ears and across the rough stubble on his jaw.

“God, you’re hot,” he murmured against my lips, hands slipping beneath the waistline of my pants to grip my hips. I reveled in his touch, wanting everything suddenly, wanting…

Jeremiah.

Guilt stabbed me through the heart, the effect like a bucket of ice water over me. I broke off the kiss with a gasp. Lucas didn’t notice the change, his lips falling to nibble tempting patterns on my neck, and an answering fire rose within my belly. My body seemed content to continue what was happening now, while my brain pleaded with me to end this. I rolled my head sideways, and caught the image of the blonde Russian woman staring at me from the framed picture. “Is this what you did with Anya?”

The reaction to my question was immediate. Lucas stopped what he was doing, then stumbled back, staring down at me for a moment. The swipe of cold air that swept across me in his absence made me shiver, and suddenly tears threatened to overwhelm me. His eyes followed mine down to the picture beside us, and emotion twisted his face. “Yes,” Lucas muttered, staring blankly down at me. “This is exactly what I did.”

He stumbled sideways, wrenching the door open beside us, then disappeared around the frame. I slammed the door behind him, bolting it shut, and dove back into the bed. My heart hurt badly, and tears streamed down my face as I tried to drown out the world around me. Jeremiah, I thought again, imagining the man’s face, his thick arms around me. I should have given you a chance to explain… Explain what though? I’d whispered my love in a moment of candor, and he’d run from the house as if chased by bees.

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