A Modern Love Story (17 page)

He strode up to her, calling her name, but she was oblivious as she got on her tip-toes to hang the clock back on the wall. He tapped her on the back just as she turned. Letting out a cry of surprise, she jolted and then teetered. Luc lunged for her and managed to catch her, but he had to do some creative maneuvering to break her fall with his body.

Robbie looked down at him with wide, green eyes and yanked out her ear buds. He could hear her music like it was blaring through tin cans.

“You scared the crap out of me!” she said, and then broke into a fit of laughter.

As her body shook against his, he was struck by her and how she felt. His heart did a firm knock in his chest. Glancing away from her captivating eyes, he noticed her tank pulled low, revealing ample cleavage.

That did nothing to help his current problem.

“Are you okay?” Robbie asked, the amusement still twinkling in her eyes.

“Fine,” he grumbled, shifting to get her off him. He was hard as a rock, painfully so, and the expression on her face—shock—told him she had just noticed.

“Are you…?”

“What?” he snapped, pushing to his feet.

Her eyes flashed and her full lips pulled tight; an expression he knew all too well. “Just what are you mad about? That I almost hurt myself, that you had to catch me, or that for half-a-second you actually found me attractive?”

“More than half-a-second,” he mumbled, trying to curb his own building temper.

“I can’t believe you’re embarrassed to be attracted to me. How do you think that makes me feel?” She stabbed a finger at his chest, adding kindling to his own bundle of anger. “Insulted, that’s what! Get out! I don’t even want to look at you right now.”

“I’m not embarrassed to be attracted to you. I’m embarrassed that you
know
I am. I shouldn’t want you as much as I do!”

“Why not? What the hell’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing! You’re… You’re…”

“What?”

“You’re Robbie!”

She backed up a step and studied him. When she finally spoke, the fire from her tone had sizzled out. “And that makes me…family? A sibling?”

“God, no! Family, yes. But I’ve never thought of you as a sister.” Up until then, all the words had flown uncensored from his mouth, but now he knew to choose his words very, very carefully. He stepped forward, gliding his fingertips across her cheek. “Best friend. Confidant. Touchstone.”

She jutted her chin out, her voice going sour. “And you’re embarrassed by me.”

“I’m embarrassed to want you, to even consider you’d want me too.”

“And what if I do?”

His chest squeezed tight. “That’s not funny, Rob.”

She reached for him, running her hands up his chest as she moved in. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

He grabbed her wrists to hold her steady. “But what if—”

“No. No
what if’s
.” She surprised him by arching in. “There’s just us.”

He couldn’t grasp a clear thought. He could only feel her, see her. He hadn’t known what to expect when he stormed over, but this wasn’t it.

The unexpected had him frozen in place, except for the clench of his jaw.

Her expression shifted in defeat, her tone going flat. “See? Embarrassed. Get the hell out.” She jerked her wrists out of his grip, and spun away.

All thoughts evaporated and he moved on pure instinct alone. Grabbing her by the arm, he twisted her around and moved in. His mouth took hers just as her lips parted to yell, and he tasted her immediately. But as he shifted to take it deeper, she squirmed and shoved him back.

Her eyes sparked with temper as they stared each other down, breaths already quickened from their short embrace. He wanted to put his hands on her, to pull her back, to have her, and was about to do just that, but there was no need—Robbie fisted her hand in his shirt, and jerked him against her.

Lips fusing together, he moved in, slamming her against the door. He touched her everywhere, anywhere, as she yanked his shirt off to slide her palms up and over his chest, to curl around his neck. His hands darted under her tank top to touch flesh, to possess and take, then caress and tug. Their mouths fed off each other, nipping and teasing to draw the other in.

Robbie grabbed his hand and moved it between her thighs. He shifted and her boxers fell with ease. He found no barrier of silk or cotton, only wet fire, and his fingers dived in. Breathing in her gasps, he drove her to madness, reveling as her body vibrated against him. His belly curled with lust as she fumbled with the button on his jeans, as she tugged at his zipper, as she found him hard and wanting. She explored with nimble fingers, and he nearly came undone.

Grabbing her wrists, he yanked them above her head, cuffing them with one hand as he let the other wander to hold and squeeze whatever he could reach. His tongue blazed a trail down her neck and across her collarbone. He had to taste her, wanted to taste her, and now that he had, he couldn’t get enough. She struggled to free her hands, wiggling and arching against him as he took her breast in his mouth.

“Now!” she demanded, hooking a leg around his waist.

Clarity sparked through his brain. “Condom,” he huffed.

She locked the muscle in her leg, rubbing her heat against him. “God, please, Luc. Now.” Her voice was an urgent whisper, a plea striking straight through the tether maintaining his control.

He plunged, one shocking moment. She whimpered a sound of pure female pleasure, and she then moved, rocking against him. With him.

Sensations, raw and commanding, rocketed through his body as he raced to have her, to rule her. It was all so surreal, and yet he was hyper-aware—she was everywhere, flooding his senses, while he was nowhere, spurred on by an insatiable force.

She matched his need, his urgency, stroke by glorious stroke. Hands still pinned, she dropped her head, nipped at his shoulder. He released her wrists and she clamped onto him, fingers digging into his heated flesh. Grabbing her hips with both hands, he took her in deep, hard thrusts.

He knew when he had her, when he brought her to peak for the second time. The sound of his name on her lips made his own release all the more euphoric, and totally consuming.

She was his.

Robbie buried her face in Luc’s neck as he held them up against the door with numb, tingling limbs, his cheek resting against her head. And he heard her say, with a breathless gasp, “You win.”

Luc chuckled, tipping his face down. Her boxers were pooled around her ankle, and her tank top was bunched up under her chin.

“I did that with a little less—okay, a lot less—finesse than I ever imagined I would.”

Robbie’s brow arched. “And, ah, how many times did you imagine this little scenario?”

He smiled, traced her lips with his finger. “Only about a million.”

“I’d say we’re about even then.” She grinned and slumped against him. “I don’t think I can move. I may have lost all use of my muscles.”

“I gotcha.” He reached over to flip the lock on her door, and then gathered her up.

She was like a feather in his arms as he carried her to the bedroom and laid her down. They cuddled up, wrapping around each other, and Luc reveled in the moment, absorbing the fact that Robbie was there, in his arms. He trailed his fingertips up and down her spine, each pass slower than the last, as he drifted off to sleep. And somewhere in the sleep-induced daze, he had the errant thought about how Conrad was fucking right—there was no damn doubt he was in love with her. And it seemed she loved him, too.

*****

Payten smoothed at her hair and business skirt before gripping the spindled-brass handle to tug open the heavy oak door. Her eyes adjusted to the dim interior almost immediately as she stepped inside, well used to the routine of brilliance to darkness on her almost-daily stops at Hooligan’s. A quick scan of the booths along the wall, and the stools along the bar, verified the evening crowd hadn’t beat her.

With a slight sway to her hips, she balanced and strode to the bar on thin heels—the type she knew accentuated her long legs, and worked her ass.

She flashed a beaming smile at Conrad as he watched her approach, a glint of appreciation lighting his gorgeous hazel eyes. If Luc hadn’t grabbed her by the throat first, Conrad surely would have.

“Evening, Conrad. Could you get me a beer?” She all but slithered onto the stool, then purposely crossed her legs.

“It would be my great pleasure, Payten.” Conrad smiled and winked before reaching down for a mug.

She rubbed at her neck, rotating it around as she surveyed the space for Luc.

“He’s not here.” Conrad set a lite beer in front of her.

“Excuse me?”

“You have eyes for Luc, do you?”

She took a long swallow, considering the situation, and how to work it. “Am I that transparent?”

“A bit.”

“I thought it’d be interesting to get to know him better, but he doesn’t make it easy.”

He lifted a shoulder and smiled. “So what do you want to know about ‘ole Luc?”

“‘Ole Luc…” She ran her finger down the side of her mug, slipping it across the gathering condensation. “He’s got a steely exterior on him, does he not?”

“That he does. The only one I’ve ever seen get through it is Robbie.”

“Robbie,” she said, thoughtfully. “What is their relationship? From what I’ve been able to figure, they’re like brother and sister, correct?”

“No, not at all. More like unrequited lovers, if you ask me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think they’re in love with each other, but still don’t realize it, even after all these years.”

“Looks like I may have my work cut out for me then.”

Conrad chuckled. “That you do, but know this: If you get tired of chasing Luc, I’m ready to be caught.”

Payten picked up on his teasing and went with it. “And what a catch I bet you are.” She batted her eyelashes, and caught a drop of condensation on the tip of her finger before sliding it between her lips.

Conrad shook his head and grinned. “See there? Yup, you can flirt with me anytime. Does my male ego good.”

She laughed in the way she knew captured a man’s attention, and patted his hand. “You’re no Luc, but you sure are a cutie, Conrad.”

“Let me ask you something, Payten. What is it about Luc that stirs women up?”

“I’d have to say it’s those deliciously rough edges he has.”

“Oh, yeah,” Conrad said with an eye roll. “He’s yummy. Lucky bastard.”

“I thought you had a girl.”

“I do. Beside the point.” He grabbed a rag, began wiping down the counter. “A man always wants what others have. I was just curious how Luc always seems to get it.”

“Well, with me, cutie, that’s what it is.” She sipped her beer, glanced at the clock. “What time are you expecting him?”

Conrad tossed the rag somewhere under the bar and looked at his watch. His brow creased as he responded, “Now that’s a good question.”

Payten watched as he walked into the back. About ten minutes later he came back with a smirk on his face.

“Did you find him?”

“Yeah. Best not waste your time, Payten. He won’t be coming around.”