Consumed(22)

Lucas gives me a sideways glance. “Off-night?”

“Not a rocker,” I remind him.

I hold one of the double glass doors open for him. Unexpectedly, he stops for a moment to bend his head to mine. He keeps his word by not kissing me, but murmurs against my lips, “Go ahead and give him my address. If he gets it out today, you’ll have them before we take off Saturday morning. Or I’ll just buy you new ones.” When I press my lips together and shake my head, he laughs and adds, “And I’m glad you’re not a rocker. Trust me, I like you better doing clothes.”

No, you like me better without clothes, I think, but I don’t say that as I follow him out to the parking lot to a black Jeep. It’s one of the enormous Wranglers with all the options, including incredibly high suspension. Even though I’m freakishly tall, it takes some effort getting in. He comes around before I close the passenger door.

“So about that kiss?” For once, I could care less where my voice has gone.

“Patience is a beautiful thing,” says the man with absolutely none to speak of. He pulls my fingers to his mouth, pressing them flat against his full lips, kissing the pads of my fingers. Each tiny movement of his mouth is delicate, sensual, and need flames through my body. “Let’s go home.”

He keeps his eyes glued to the road as he speeds down streets that I’ve driven many times myself, and others—the wealthier parts of the city—that I’ve rarely been in. When we pass a luxury condo community that I vividly remember seeing the only other time he brought me to his place, I release a little sigh.

This gets his attention. He turns his head slightly toward me, his eyebrow raised.

“What ever happened to the Maserati?” I ask.

“What?”

“The blue car you picked me up in that one time in? That’s what it was, right?”

He refocuses his gaze on the road, and I slide closer to him to see that he’s wearing the tiniest smile. “I remember it, just surprised that you do. Sold it a year and a half ago. It . . . wasn’t for me.” He turns left onto a street that’s a half a mile from his gated community. “Anything else?”

“Tori,” I say hesitantly. “My friend Tori still lives here, and I want to go see her tonight or tomorrow since we’ll be on the road so early Saturday morning.”

Sighing, he slows the Jeep down at the security gate but doesn’t rush to roll down his window. He pulls off his sunglasses, tosses them on the dash, and turns to me, his hazel eyes direct. “I don’t want you to misunderstand what this is.”

“Then please, fill me in.” Steel and absolute uncertainty laces my voice.

“You’re mine. You’re with me now, but you don’t need to get confirmation to see your friends. Invite her to the damn show and the after party if that’s what you want.” A self-assured grin tilts the corners of his lips, sending a sharp pang through my chest. Dear god, why does he have to look at me like that? “I want to possess you, not treat you like a child.”

We’re both silent as he lets down the window to punch in the gate code and drives through the neighborhood to his house. The only thing he says to me after parking is that we’ll come out and get my luggage later. When we step inside, he locks the door and then turns to me.

“Do you remember where the bedroom is?”

I glance at the top of the stairs before returning my gaze to him. “Is it possible to forget?”

“You’re blushing, Red,” he points out. “Which is why I’m not going to take you up there. Not yet.”

Without warning, he reaches between our bodies and cups my sex through my skinny jeans. I release a hoarse gasp and grab hold of his upper arms. As he shimmies my tight jeans down my hips, he drags his fingertips down my skin, the sensation causing my legs to tingle. My knees buckle.

“Lucas, I’m going to—.” But he stops my words with his mouth, pressing his lips against mine roughly, offering me that kiss he’d promised in the airport, taking my breath away. He tastes sweet—like spearmint—as his tongue darts in and out of my mouth teasingly. This is a dangerous game. I know that it’s impossible for me to win, but honestly, when it comes to Lucas, I don’t want to.

When he pulls me away from him, leaving my world spinning violently, he nods his head down to the floor. “Right here, Sienna. Right now.”

On the stair landing, I add silently. With the mid-afternoon light straining through the shutters in the foyer, and my luggage still waiting out in the back of his Jeep—this is the night we reconnected all over again. Aloud, I say in a shaky voice, “What happened to that ‘patience is good’ mantra?”