Consumed (2 page)

And there goes the pain in my chest again. She doesn’t trust me, and it about destroys me. But what can I expect?

“Nothing will happen to you while you’re with me,” I promise. Then I lift my eyebrows and add, “Nothing bad. I’m going to do what I should have done before. I need you with me because there’s no music without you.”

It is that promise that completely wins her over. 

She tugs me to her by the collar of my shirt and cups my face in between her hands. Her lips are rough and demanding, making me reconsider what she’d started to say earlier about the hotels. I drag myself away from her, putting a good amount of space between us. 

“No more of that or I’ll fuck you right here in this doorway.” 

“Give me an hour to get ready,” Sienna whispers, walking backward into the house. “I promise I won’t be long.”

It only takes her half the time. After I load her luggage into the trunk of my car, which I’ve driven closer to the cabin while waiting, she slips into the passenger seat next to me. Dragging in a shaky breath, she lays her head back against the leather headrest and then turns to look at me as I put the car into drive. “I love you, Lucas.”

 “I love you too.”

She frowns when I slam on the brakes near the top of the driveway, but then I produce a wide red strip of fabric from the center console. The corners of her mouth slide into a smile. “Another one of your attention exercises, Lucas?” she questions as I cover her eyes with the fabric. 

“No, but surprises are your new best friend.”

For once, she doesn’t protest.

Sienna

Lucas’s car comes to a slow stop and he cuts the engine, stopping Cavo mid-song. At the sound of his door opening and closing, the air flies out of my lungs. I embrace this moment of breathlessness, the sudden burst of uncertain excitement that hums through me. 

Where are we, and what have I gotten myself into? 

Grasping the hem of my shorts, I run through a list of places he might have brought me. I rule out hotel or airport. We’ve been on the road for what seems like hours, and Gram’s house is only a stone’s throw from Nashville’s airport.

Exasperation kicks in, and I bring my hands up to my blindfolded eyes, but the passenger door swings open. Lucas clears his throat. Though I can’t see him, I swear I can feel his hazel eyes burning against the side of my face. 

“We’re here,” he announces. 

“I figured as much. Where exactly is here?”

His calloused fingers close around my wrists, and he tugs me out of the car toward him. I stumble a little, the front of one of my flip-flops bending enough that the warm pavement brushes the tips of my toes. Lucas steadies me, placing his other hand on the curve of my hip. We’re chest to chest. Late night breeze whispers against our skin, but I’m not cold. Not when he’s so close I can practically taste the spearmint on his tongue as I breathe him in.

And no matter how many times I’ve attempted to convince myself otherwise, I have missed breathing this man in. 

“Lucas.” My voice is strained. “Where are we?”

 Letting go of my wrist, he moves both of his hands up my body, not stopping until he touches either side of my face. “You ask so many fucking questions, Sienna.” He works his fingers beneath the silky blindfold and dips his mouth to my ear. “Just enjoy the moment.”

“Hard to when I can’t see a damn—” I begin, but he lowers the fabric from my eyes. 

“You look stunned.”

What did he expect after everything that’s happened between us just in the last several hours? “I doubt that’ll go away any time soon.”

A new emotion passes over his features—one that makes me uncomfortable—and I look away. Beneath the pale glow of moonlight, there’s nothing but mountains and lush trees as far as I can see. The only house around is the one we’re parked in front of, a massive three-story cabin—twice as large as my grandmother’s place in Nashville—with floor to ceiling windows on the second level. 

“We’re still in Tennessee?” I ask. 

“Gatlinburg. I needed you all to myself, Si. I needed these two days without interruption, to win you back and make-up for my fuck-ups the right way.”

“All to yourself, huh?”

A few locks of messy, dark hair fall over his hazel eyes when he nods. “The way I should have done months ago.” Spinning me around so that I’m by his side, he runs his palm down the inside of my arm, lacing our fingertips together.  

I hold on to him tightly, not wanting him to release my hand, to release me.

While Lucas takes our luggage out of his car, I explore the cabin’s main floor. Other than the ceiling-height stone fireplace in the center of the living room, the house has none of the usual rustic charm. From the black sectional couch that surrounds the fireplace, to the equally dark furnishings, and even to the gleaming black countertops in the kitchen, something moody and sexy pulsates through the atmosphere.

It’s definitely familiar. 

I rest my back against the stainless steel refrigerator, my eyes scanning the open, state-of-the-art kitchen.

Then it hits me: this house reminds me of Lucas’s place in Los Angeles. I’ve only been there once, more than two years ago when he took me there for what had been a catastrophe of a date, but it’s impossible to forget. 

I return to the living room but stop short as the front door closes. Running my fingertips across the blindfold still hanging around my neck, I look at Lucas, who’s standing in the foyer. His back is turned to me, but even under the dim lights, I’m able to admire him—too-long, too-messy dark hair; olive skin and muscles that any sane person would envy; and the intricate tattoos that cover more of his body than not. 

Simply put, Lucas Wolfe is beautiful

The sound of me pushing my hands into the pockets of my shorts catches his attention. He turns his face slightly, giving me a clear view of his profile. “You hungry?”

“No.” I step in his direction. “This place is absolutely amazing.” Two more steps closer, each one wider, each one making the pit of my belly clench a little more. “I’m guessing it belongs to you.” 

He turns all the way around just as I step into the foyer. I’m struck by the soft look in his hazel eyes. Lucas Wolfe has never been the type to do emotions—well, none except for anger, disinterest, and lust. But tonight? 

Tonight he’s mind-fucked me. 

“It’s for you,” he says.

“What?”

He inches closer to me. “This house. I bought it for you. I—“ He clears his throat and rubs the palm of his hand over the gorgeous angles of his face. “I lost my last vacation house in a bet. So this is for us, Sienna.”

For us. 

Those words catch me off guard—wrap around my heart and give it a firm squeeze—but he doesn’t seem to notice because he turns his attention to the alarm system on the wall by the front door.

Just a day ago, if someone had asked whether or not I’d ever see Lucas-Fucking-Wolfe again, I would’ve laughed off the question. Lucas and I were through; he hadn’t wanted me—at least not enough to make us work—and besides, I had no place in a rock star’s world.

Lucas had sent me away just when I realized that I had fallen in love with him. 

Now, standing inside of a house that he says is meant for us, I decide it’s a good thing nobody has ever asked me about the future of Lucas Wolfe and myself. My answer would’ve been wrong.

The alarm beeps twice. His thick eyebrows knit together. “You okay, Si?” he asks. I nod, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Because, you’ve got that fucking look.”

“What look?”

The soles of his black Converse squeak on the hardwood as he takes two long strides to reach me. I’m ridiculously tall for a woman—five foot ten— but he’s several inches taller than me. I have to I tilt my head far back to stare up at his face. 

“It’s that look like you’ve got something you want to say,” he finally says.

I cross my arms over my chest, but he grabs both my wrists, pulling my body hard against his. This is the first time he’s put his hands on me since he removed the blindfold, and I crave more of his touch. 

Less than five hours with him, and already he’s like a drug to me.

“Answer me, Si.”

I shrug. “I’m shocked you didn’t try to screw me on the way here.” 

“Oh, I wanted to fuck you, but the steering wheel got in the way, and I wanted to do this time the right way.” Without warning, he pulls the bands out of my high ponytail, breaking the rubber with his fingertips. He says something under his breath when my red hair falls in tangled waves around my shoulders. He’s always had a thing for my hair. “Anything else you got to say?”

“No.”

He places his rough fingertips over my lips, working the tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger before cupping the sides of my face. “Talk to me.”

Closing my eyes, I swallow and count to five to collect my thoughts. The last thing that I need to do is ramble and come off sounding like a blubbering idiot. “You sing a song about me,” I start tentatively. His thick hair sweeps back and forth across my forehead as he nods. “Don’t get me wrong, “Ten Days” has got to be the most ridiculously romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me. But then you show up at my grandma’s house. You tell me that I owe you two days and that you’ve got somewhere to take me. You bring me here, to the mountains.”

“Yes.”

“And you told me you love me.” The last two words come out in a fierce whisper.

“Open your eyes.” When I don’t immediately obey him, his fingertips thread into my hair, pulling gently. Electricity hums through every part of my body. “Open your eyes.”

This time I listen. He gives me a crooked smile and slides a few locks of my hair between his fingertips.

“I brought you here because I didn’t have the patience for Los Angeles, where I should’ve taken you months ago. You’re here because I plan to enjoy every inch of your body and fuck you speechless without interruption.” His mouth is just a mere centimeter away from mine. I can smell the spearmint from the gum he chewed while he was driving intermingling with the scent of the cologne he uses. It's intoxicating, and suddenly, my mouth is dry. 

“I brought you here because I do love you. Because I plan to love you on my terms—at least for the next few days. And you came, Sienna. Don’t ever forget that.”

But he’s already lost me. What exactly does he mean by on his terms?

I jerk away from him and walk backwards to put enough distance between us to give myself a chance to think clearly. I stop when my ass hits the bannister. He cocks his head to the side, and I reach behind me, squeezing the wood for support.

“What about my terms?” I ask as calmly as possible. “You’re not going to pull a bunch of shit on me again, Lucas. You’re not going to use me for two days, or two weeks, or however long and screw me over. I won’t let you.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Because, if you tell me to leave again, I . . . ” But my voice gives. I don’t actually know what I’ll do if Lucas pulls a repeat of what had happened in February. Or what happened in Los Angeles two years ago.

What I do know is I’d rather not have him at all if a repetitive loop of break-ups and make-ups will be the bitter reality of our relationship.

He comes over to me, trapping my legs between his so it’s impossible for me to walk away again. With nowhere to go, I challenge his gaze. 

“I’m with you now.” He hooks his index fingers under the tight waistband of my cutoff shorts and pressing his thumbs against the strip of pale skin exposed right above them. “I’m with you,” he repeats, each word a harsh whisper.

Ninety percent of my body molds against his as if we were made to do this with each other and nobody else, but I firmly lay my palm flat against his chest to prevent him from claiming my lips.

“But for how long?”

“I’m keeping you this time. You’re mine, Sienna.”

Dropping my hand away from his chest, I close the remaining space between our bodies. His tongue is harsh as it parts my lips. I moan at how delicious he tastes. His hands explore my body roughly, possessively, and I grasp the soft cotton of his T-shirt.