Wheeler (Seattle Sharks 8)
“Lukas!” I gasped as he stepped into the elevator. “What are you doing? Your shoot!”
His nose grazed mine as he turned his gaze on me. “I have more important matters to attend to.”
The elevat
or doors shut, and I wiggled within his grasp. “Put me down. I’m fine. Go. Finish the shoot.”
“Do you really want me to let you go?” he asked, sincerity in his eyes so real and raw it shook the breath from me. My heart pounded against my chest as he held my gaze. I knew he would, if I asked him, knew he would put me down and go back and finish the shoot. But in that moment, with him holding me, the intensity churning between us, all I wanted was him.
I slowly, timidly, shook my head.
And a breath he’d been holding loosed right before he crushed his lips on mine.
Chapter 11
Lukas
The Lambo purred as I took the curves just a little too fast, driving us up the winding road that led home. The leather of the steering wheel was supple under my hands, the car responding to even the most minor adjustments.
Just like Faith did when she was under me.
“Nice car,” Faith muttered, running her hands over the edge of the seat. They were the first words she’d spoken since I’d put her in the car, buckled her belt and shut the door.
“Hmmm,” I hummed in answer, and wrapped us around another curve, the sea coming into view.
“It kind of reminds me of you.”
“How is that?”
“There’s the obvious—it’s the same color as your eyes. Mostly it looks all sleek and pretty, maybe a little ostentatious, but then you realize there’s a beast under the hood, just waiting to be let loose.” She turned in her seat to watch me, laying her head back against the leather.
“You’re saying I’m a finely tuned machine?” I risked a glance at her before concentrating on the road. The curves along this stretch were switchbacks up to the house, and I couldn’t afford the distraction that she was.
“I’m saying that there’s a lot more to you than what everyone gets to see.”
“Hmmm,” I hummed again. She was going to get to see a whole hell of a lot of me in just a few minutes.
“How much does one of these things cost?” her hand stroked over the dash.
“About half a million,” I answered as the driveway came into view.
“Go figure,” she scoffed. “Someone has to have money to burn in order to drive it.”
I brought us smoothly into the garage and then killed the engine before turning to look at Faith. Her lips were still swollen and pink from last night, the hair on top of her head disheveled. She looked mussed and natural and so beautiful it made my cock ache.
“Someone has to be willing to invest what they’ve worked for in order to experience it, to partner with it, to hear it respond to your command,” I corrected her, anger and lust lacing the words. “If you’re not willing to invest, you don’t deserve to keep it.”
Her lips parted as I leaned in, coming close, but not kissing her.
“Today isn’t going to happen again,” I warned her.
“Because I ruined your shoot over petty jealousy,” she assumed, looking at her hands.
I tipped her chin up until she met my eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about the shoot. They got what they needed for the retailers. I care that you didn’t trust me. That you assumed I’d left our bed and then gone on some kind of model conquest. That you thought so little of yourself, of my feelings for you.”
To her credit, she didn’t look away.
“You...the flirting. It’s like you do it on autopilot, and when I saw it…” she shrugged.
“I was talking to those women, Älskling. That was all. They know Axel, and we were sharing stories to pass the time.” What was it going to take for her to trust me? My reputation hadn’t done me any favors, but Jesus, I’d been a fucking monk waiting for her.
“I know. You just can’t help that you ooze sexuality and charm,” she grumbled.
“I am who I am, Faith. And that is a man who is utterly besotted by you.” I let go of her chin and leaned back in my seat, struggling to find my patience. “You are going to have to trust me. Really, honestly, trust me if this is going to work. Here in Sweden, it’s a few models on a shoot that you helped arrange. But once we get home to Seattle, it’s the tabloids, and the puck bunnies, and the away games. Once the season starts, there are ten thousand reasons to doubt me and only one way to shut it all out.”
“Which is?” she asked, her voice quiet.
“To fucking trust me, and not just give that lip service. To know in your heart that I want you and only you. That I find you about a million times more attractive in those yoga pants than any model in a designer dress, and that’s because it’s you. I’m not just attracted to your body, Faith, but your mind, your heart, and even your insane jealousy.”
“It’s not insane,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. But there was real worry there.
I turned her head quickly and slammed my mouth over hers, forcing my entrance, willing her compliance with tongue and teeth. She gasped her surprise, but instantly melted into the kiss, giving back as good as she was getting.
When she moaned lightly, I pulled back, resting my forehead on hers.
“Those models don’t see me. You do. I let you in. I let you see me. They see the shell, and that’s all they’re interested in. You see to the very heart of me.”
“Lukas—”
I pressed my thumb over her lips, keeping her quiet.
“I’m not the car, Faith. You are. You’re all soft to the touch, responsive as hell, and ready to purr for the right partner. And I’m invested. I have been since before I even knew if you’d want me. I’ve risked my closest friendship, the respect of my peers, and even the success of my career because I know you’re worth it. We’re worth it. But I cannot be invested in this alone. I told you last night there was no going back and I meant it. I’m in this. Are you? Because if you’re looking for the first reason to bolt, to protect yourself, then I can’t fight that.” I let her see the fear in my eyes, the absolute terror that she’d realize I wasn’t worth the risk.
“So I’m giving you an out,” I told her quietly. “If you’re not in this for keeps, if you want that freedom I promised you, then take it. But do it now before you break my fucking heart. I’ll still be here. I’ll still wait for you to come back, but I can’t watch you sabotage us on day one. The jealousy is hot—I’ll admit that. It’s a primal, possessive response that I’m down for any day of the week, but the doubt? That’s bullshit we can’t survive.”
Her eyes softened to liquid emeralds, and I saw the war that waged there, the battle between giving herself over to me completely and self-preservation. But there was no room for self-preservation here. Not in the NHL lifestyle where there were women, and press and people just waiting to watch us fail. It was all or nothing.
“I’m going inside. You make your choice, Faith, and I’ll respect it. You can have me. All of me—not that I’m some grand prize. I’m actually more of a pain in the ass than a reward, and I get that.”
She sucked in a breath past my thumb, and I pressed gently to keep her quiet. I had to get this out or I never would.
“But if you want me, then I’m yours. You just have to be brave enough to accept the fact that you’re the only woman I want. But that comes with the models, who are there just for ads. It comes with the tabloids and the paparazzi. It comes with the crazy game schedules, and the nights when you’re alone because I’m not pulling you away from college for my selfish pleasure of having you at the hotel after a game. It comes with you gaining the confidence to know that you are the sexiest fucking woman on the planet. That I’m hard the minute you walk in the room, the minute I think about you, or smell you on my fucking sheets. But as fond as I am of my dick, I’d rather cut it off than be with anyone else. If you’re ready for that, then I’ll make sure you never have reason to doubt it.”
Her breath left in a heady sigh, and as much as I wanted to hear her immediate reaction, I needed to give her space first. She had given me her body last night, but I wanted her trust, her certainty now.
I pressed my lips to
her forehead in a lingering kiss. “Jag älskar dig,” I whispered against her forehead, needing to say it just once, whether or not she understood the words.
Then I got out of the car and shut the door behind me.
I stripped my suit off enroute to my bathroom, leaving it scattered in a trail of apathy. Fuck the clothes. Fuck the line. Fuck my friendships. Fuck the expectations.
All I wanted was Faith.
Lack of control was something I didn’t handle well. If I wanted something, I worked for it. I skated my ass off. Hit the gym. Hit the books. Made contacts with designers, retailers, manufacturers and built myself an empire that would last once my body gave out. I had no problem busting my ass because I knew I could accomplish my goals.
But I had zero fucking control here.
None.
She had it all.
I cranked the water too hot and stepped into the shower. The river stone floor warmed under the sprays that hit my body from multiple jets that streamed from the shower’s stone walls.
Water beat my aching muscles into submission from the workout I’d forced myself through while Faith had slept in my bed. Waking up next to her had been a dream, and it had taken everything in me not to make love to her in the dawn light. I’d never taken a virgin before—that had been a hard line—and she had to be sore.
Now I wished I’d woken her with my tongue, but that was the fear talking.
I washed my hair and then soaped the rest of me, letting my head fall back into the cascading water.
When I opened my eyes, Faith stood in front of me, watching through the single pane of glass.
Her eyes roved my body hungrily, and my cock responded, quickly rising. Every second her eyes lingered, I grew harder until I pulsed with need. Going without sex for nine months had been hard, but after tasting Faith once, my body was clamoring for a second hit.
She held my eyes as she stripped, slipping out of her top, peeling off her yoga pants, and then making quick work of her black bra and panties. Damn, she was a vision. Petite and curved, her body shaped like the roads that took two hands to drive. Her skin was milky white, contrasting with the fiery curls that escaped at the nape of her neck and the small strip between her creamy thighs.