Ashleigh
“We’re going to need a bigger place.” Wherever I looked there was a half-unpacked cardboard box. How was it possible to have accumulated so much stuff in less than thirty years on this planet—and on a nurse’s salary? With two pairs of evening shoes, I wasn’t a girl who thought of herself as having a lot of things. Apparently, I was wrong.
Luke chuckled. “You think? I don’t want to say I told you so—hell, what am I saying? I don’t mind saying it at all. I told you so.”
“Whatever. You were right.”
“So, we’ll look at places to buy?”
I shrugged. Now I was here with all my things, it felt less strange than I’d expected it to. Luke was right. It was inevitable that we were going to be together, so it was easier to accept that and move forward rather than constantly put the brakes on. “Fine, but can you at least wait until tomorrow to start Googling? We have guests due any minute. Whose idea was it to do Sunday dinner here anyway?” I narrowed my eyes accusingly at Luke.
“Erm, that would be you.”
“It can’t have been me because, as you know, I’m perfect, and Beth, Jake and Haven arriving in less than thirty minutes is far from perfect. I’m blaming Jake.”
“Okay, that works. He’ll be fine with that.”
The chicken was in the oven, the bathroom clean. I just needed to clear out some of the boxes, and we’d be halfway to making the place just look cramped and uncared for, which would be a distinct improvement. I’d wanted to welcome my family into our home, and for everything to be shiny and beautiful. That wasn’t going to happen, and I had to accept that.
“What’s that smell?” I jerked my head toward the kitchen. Luke bolted for the oven, bringing the glass door down with a thump.
“Crispy chicken is always better than soggy chicken,” Luke said as he stared into the cooker. He was authoritative but unconvincing.
My shoulders sagged. “Let’s take a look.” I peered into the oven to see what looked like a large lump of coal. “Well, at least we can be sure it’s dead.”
Luke chuckled. “Yes, that’s for certain. It doesn’t matter. I could do a chili, or what about enchiladas?”
I looked at my watch. “Make out with me?”
“What did you say?”
“I don’t care about the chicken or what’s going to replace it. I don’t care that the place is a mess or that I need to brush my hair. We have twenty-five minutes. It’s not long enough to get naked. So let’s make out. We can worry about what we’re going to eat when people arrive.” Having all my stuff unpacked and being able to produce Sunday dinner no longer seemed so important. Luke was what I wanted, and I needed to make sure I didn’t lose sight of that. I lifted myself up onto the kitchen counter and grabbed at his shirt, pulling him over to me so he was standing between my legs. “De-stress me.”
He smoothed his hands over my hips and kissed my forehead. I sank into his touch, the anxiety seeping away. He was all I needed.
The intercom buzzed, and we pulled away from each other, exchanging confused glances. We should have had twenty-five minutes of delicious kissing before we were interrupted.
“Stay there; maybe it’s someone who has the wrong flat.” Luke went to investigate. Before he’d reached the intercom, someone was banging on the front door. I slid off the counter. Our make-out session was clearly on hiatus.
I heard Haven scream, and I padded toward the ruckus in time to see her push past Luke and bolt into the guest bathroom.
“Sorry, mate, she’s been like that all week,” Jake explained as he handed Luke a bottle of wine.
“Irritable and pushy? She’s been like that her whole life,” Luke responded.
“It’s morning sickness,” Jake said.
Haven hadn’t mentioned being sick when I’d spoken to her earlier in the week.
“Hey there, how are the internet videos going? The feedback on that one with the honey was amazing,” I told Beth, who was hiding behind Jake.
“Please don’t make my sister sound like a porn star,” Jake said on a sigh.
Leaving Haven in the bathroom, the rest of us shuffled into the living room. Jake started to laugh. “Were you not expecting us?”
It really was a total disaster zone. “We were too busy shagging to worry about the state of the place. So distracted in fact that we burnt the chicken—”
“We’re going to take you out, if that’s okay,” Luke interrupted. I was so grateful to him for suggesting that. At least if I wasn’t in this place, I wouldn’t have to think about the mess it was in. “We’ll just wait for Haven to finish vomiting.”
Beth started to giggle.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Don’t be,” Beth replied. “It’s good to know that you’re not perfect. You always seem so together.”
Luke burst out laughing, and I playfully smacked him on the arm. “Thank you, but it if seems like that then I need to diagnose you with a serious disease. I mean this with love: you have a severe case of shit in your eyes.”
The following day I’d booked off work, so I spent the day getting our place straightened out. It was beginning to look like home, with things of mine nestled against things of his. His books mixed with mine in the study and my toothbrush next to his in the bathroom.
I’d even bought some plant food from the flower shop on the corner for the magnolia tree I’d given Luke. They had some magnolia blooms that I also purchased and arranged in a vase on the table in a bid to show Luke that the collection of sticks poking out of the ground would become something beautiful if we took care of them.
By the time Luke arrived home from work, the place was looking fantastic, and so was I. I’d slipped into the gothic red underwear he’d bought me just a few weeks ago, which were still my favorite despite him giving me several sets since. As I heard his key in the lock, I put on my highest heels and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge.
“Hey, honey, I’m home,” he called from the hallway. “Wow, this place is looking great,” he said, scanning the living area before he settled his eyes on me. “But not as good as you, apparently.”
I took a swig out of the bottle and held it out for him. He moved toward me, took the beer and put it straight on the counter behind me. “I’m not thirsty.” His voice had that gravelly edge to it that I was only just getting used to. Lust lapped at my edges, and my eyes flitted to his crotch, then back up to his face.
He raised his eyebrows. “Like what you see?”
“I bought flowers,” I stuttered, moving across to the sofa where the magnolia blooms were in a vase on a side table. Luke came up behind me and kissed my neck.
“I can’t focus on anything when you’re dressed like that. You’ve got me so hard.” He fumbled with his zipper and pushed me gently over the back of the sofa. “Jesus, you’re perfect.” His fingers slipped inside my underwear, and he groaned. “So wet.”
His cock grazed the cleft of my ass, then pushed lower and right up to the hilt. He’d been in the door for under a minute, and he was already fucking me. He knew just what I needed.
His hands scorched my skin as his palms folded over my shoulders and pulled me onto his cock. He thrust forward so our bodies slammed together, hard and fast. Would I ever get enough of him surrounding me like this? Sometimes he’d torture me for what seemed like days before he slid into me. He’d make me come with his fingers and his mouth before I’d finally get his cock. Other times, like this one, it was as if he had no choice but to get inside me and take his own pleasure, as if doing anything else would make him insane.
“I need you so much,” he whispered, his softly spoken words in juxtaposition with the hard, sharp movements of his hips and the press of his fingers.
Luke