Love Me (Take Me 2)

“Where else should I go, Luke? Would you rather I told you how much I liked it when you had your mouth on my—”

Half expecting him to bodily throw her off the porch at this point, she was surprised when he cut her off with a kiss, a hard connection of lips and tongues and teeth. He tasted like tequila and his own particular brand of heat.

How would she ever get her fill of him?

A sharp pang squeezed her heart. She never would.

Both of them were breathing hard when he yanked himself away, only this time she was the one who didn't want to meet his eyes.

Because, for the first time in her life, she cared too much.

And she was the one who was going to end up destroyed.

Love sucked.

Especially when it only went one way.

Especially when a little voice in her head told her there wasn't a chance in hell that Luke was ever going to return her feelings. If she were anyone else, if she was blonde and tall and arctic like all of his girlfriends had been, then maybe she would have a chance with him. But Luke Carson falling in love with Janica Ellis?

Freaking preposterous.

His eyes were dark, hard, shut down as he stared down at her. “I'll let you stay on one condition.”

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. She wanted to stay so much. Too much.

“Tell me.”

“I want you naked.”

Despite the ache of her heart, despite the fact that he hadn't said one nice, one kind, one gentle thing to her so far, despite the fact that he hadn't apologized for leaving her apartment the night before without a goodbye, her body instantly reacted to his command.

Wasn't this exactly what she wanted? To be naked and sweaty with him again? After all, hadn't she spent her whole life chasing pleasure?

But for some reason, she couldn't just start ripping off her clothes as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Because she did care.

And because a little part of her heart actually felt like it was breaking. This time, entirely for herself.

He leaped on her hesitation. “Take off your clothes before I do it for you.” He paused, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Or get the hell out.”

Hardly able to believe her fingers were trembling—when was the last time she felt this nervous, this unsure?—she reached for the hem of her top and pulled it over her head. He didn't try to help, didn't rip it off of her like he had the night before. Instead, he just stood there like a he had turned to heartless stone and watched her as she unbuttoned the top of her jeans, pulled the zipper down, and slid them down her legs.

Left in only a bra and panties, strangely, she felt shy.

“Everything off, Janica.”

She swallowed, shook her head. It wasn't that he hadn't seen her naked before, because obviously he had. It was that she'd suddenly realized something truly shocking.

More hot sex with Luke wasn't going to be enough.

Not for her.

Even if he was acting like sex was the only thing he wanted from her.

She had to know that at least a small part of his heart was involved first. And if it turned out that it wasn't, well then she was going to have to do the hardest thing imaginable—she was going to have to walk away from Luke. And his incredible lovemaking.

And any chance at all of a future togeth-

Damn it. She needed to stop doing that. Needed to stop imagining that there was even the slightest chance that he could fall for her.

Still, even if he was never going to fall in love with her, she couldn't have sex with him again if there wasn't a chance at their being friends after everything was over.

After this craziness had finally come to its inevitable end.

Her heart felt like someone had been kicking it with steel-toed boots as she said, “You don't like me.”

She read his surprise at her abrupt statement loud and clear. It wasn't what she planned to say, but now that she had, she couldn't hide from the truth of it.

“I like fucking you.”

Oh. Wow.

That hurt.

But what had she expected him to say? Oh no, Janica. I absolutely adore you.

As if.

“I loved fucking you too,” she said softly, working like hell to mask her careening emotions. But she couldn't. She could feel her cheeks falling, her mouth starting to shake despite her attempts at control. “So that's all this is?”

A deep, dark anguish flashed across his face. And then, instead of answering, instead of breaking her heart the rest of the way, instead of grinding it completely to dust, he moved closer, caressed her cheek with one of his large hands.

She blinked up at Luke, knowing she should leave, telling herself to leave, but then his mouth was on hers and it was such a gentle, sweet kiss that she simply melted into him.

Thank god. She didn't have to leave him.

* * *

He wasn't alone.

Janica had dropped everything in her life to come here to be with him. She'd given her body to him, then given him her heart too, and even after he'd walked out on her the night before without one kind word, she'd gone to the hospital to find him anyway.

He didn't need a flashing billboard to see that she how much she cared about him.

And in return, he was hurting her. Over and over again, he was lashing out at her, making sure to let her know that she was nothing but a fuck toy to him.

When the truth was she was anything but.

When the truth was that he didn't want her to go.

When the truth was that even after only ten minutes together in the cabin, he knew if Janica left, he'd feel the echoes of her everywhere he looked for the next four weeks.

Maybe even for the rest of his life.

The power of these realizations had him reeling.

Her mouth was soft beneath his. Last night their kisses had been rough, caught up in the delirium of their passion. Now, he had the time to learn the curve of her lips, the sweep of her tongue, to find out how much she liked it when he dipped into the corners where her lips met.

Barely pulling back from her mouth, he whispered, “I like you. So much more than you know.”

Now she was the one kissing him. “Then take me back to bed, Luke.”

He wasn't going to lie, he had enjoyed playing out the dominant-submissive fantasy last night, but those roles weren't who either of them really were. If he could have, he would have told her how sorry he was, but his emotions were still too tangled up, too mangled for the words to come.

He'd have to tell her another way.

He lightly stroked her short, silky hair. “You're beautiful.”

“So are you.”

The sun was streaming into the cabin's windows as they held each other, and then, she was stepping out of his arms, reaching around to undo the clasp at the back of her bra.