Page 44 of The Ruin
“Mm-hmm,” he agrees. He turns slightly toward me, his eyes catching mine.
I lower my voice to a purr. “So what happens when I go out is, I drink a little, bump and grind with Mateo a little, get myself all worked up, all turned on…”
“And then…” he coaxes.
Leaning over, I whisper in his ear, “And then I come home and I take it all out onyou.”
I’m stroking the taut muscle of his forearm with my thumb, back and forth. He’s wearing a fitted white T-shirt and pajama pants, and he looks sexy as hell.
“Is that how it is?” he asks.
He cups my breast, his thumb lightly rubbing over my nipple. I can see the outline of his stiff cock through his lightweight pajama pants, and I can’t resist stroking him through the fabric. He presses up into my hand as his eyes take on that dark sheen of desire that I love so much.
“It is,” I say. “You ready for me to take it all out on you?”
He grins, but I can tell he’s still battling emotions. I stand and give his hand a tug. This revelation about his jealousy has opened up a new side of him I hadn’t seen before, and I like it.
I want him to want me, of course—and a little jealousy doesn’t hurt.
Leaning down toward him, I cruise the side of his neck with my lips, gently at first and then harder, more demanding. His taste fills my hungry mouth, making me want to lick him everywhere. As eager as I am, though, I take my time. Enjoying the way his eyes fall closed as I trail kisses up and down his neck, over his collarbone, behind his ear, and finally, his lips.
He crushes his mouth to mine. I smile around the kiss.
Oh yeah. I’ve got him.
“Why don’t we go to the bedroom now and work off all this pent-up energy?” I murmur.
Without a word, he stands up and follows me down the hallway.
I think I’m going to like jealous Luka after all.
Luka
Chapter 19
Brooklyn and I have five minutes before we need to be out the door for Stefan and Tori’s gender reveal party, and I’m still fussing with my tie in front of the closet mirror. Normally I can do this in my sleep, but I’m off my game this morning. A million thoughts are ping-ponging around in my brain; I need some time to collect myself. Which is why I’m not asking Brooklyn to knot the damn thing for me.
I can’t stop thinking about what she said when I was taking care of Mr. Kibbles—about how I’d make a good dad someday. It floored me. For years I’ve lived a life solely centered around one thing: me. And that was how I liked it. No responsibilities, no accountability to anyone or anything. Total freedom.
But when we adopted Mr. Kibbles, something inside me shifted. The little guy scrambles to the door to greet me when I get home. He jumps in my lap the second I sit down so he can snuggle up to me. He licks my hand when I’m upset, and wags his tail when I laugh. It’s nuts. Mr. Kibblesis a dog, but he’s not just a dog. He’s part of our family now. He’s the peg that fits in the small space that the childhood version of me reserved for exactly this.
The day he had his surgery, it turned me into a man I didn’t recognize. I was worried. Panicked, even. I guess I was afraid I’d lose him, just like I’d always feared. Of course he was fine, just like Brooklyn said he’d be, but I’ve had some major revelations since then. Like the fact that for as long as I can remember, I’ve been afraid to let myself get truly attached to people or things. Because I didn’t want to go through the pain of having them ripped away from me. I guess my logic was that if I didn’t have anything to care about, then I had nothing to lose.
So yeah, the whole “having kids” thing isn’t something I’ve ever had any interest in, or even gave much consideration to, especially given the very real horrors of my own childhood, and yet…I don’t know. My brother seems to be jumping into the whole thing without a second thought. Which is probably why this party is giving me such a rush of anxiety. It feels like an open wound—the idea of family without the fear. The two have been entwined in my head and my heart for so long, I don’t know if I can ever separate them.
And seeing Stefan happy? It’s like I’m getting to know my brother for the first time all over again. He wasn’t the worst in high school, I’ll give him that. If I really had my back against a wall or needed a favor, he’d come through. Most of the time, though, he was stubborn, arrogant, and antagonistic—but that’s how it is with siblings. (Of course he coddled Emzee, but we both did. She was our baby sister. Still is.) Once he left for college, he turned into even more of a hard-ass. He was practically allergic to happiness judging by the way he mistrusted it. Has he really changed so much now? Is this what “happy wife, happy life” looks like?
I finally get my tie just right and take a step back to check my outfit. Hard to believe I’m really going to be an uncle—that there’s going to be a newborn baby in our family. My chest squeezes. Shit’s about to get real.
“You almost ready, Lu? It’s go time.”
“I know.”
Brooklyn strides in, looking fresh and beautiful in a yellow wrap dress that offers just enough hint of cleavage to get my imagination going. She makes a face and reaches for my tie, making minor adjustments to the knot. Apparently, I didn’t get it as perfect as I thought.
She steps back to admire her work. I reach for her hand and hold it loosely. The feel of her grounds me. I lightly pull her in to me and kiss her pink, glossy lips. “You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she says, searching my gaze. “Everything okay? We don’t need to rush out the door if you’re stressing.”
