LUCA (Leaves of a Maples Book 5) Read online

  I wait until I have her eyes again, needing her to hear me. “Look, I knew you were crazy.” Her eyes narrow at my comment, her arms crossing defensively over her chest. A chest that is decorated with one of my fucking shirts.

  What. The. Fuck?

  “What the fuck are you doin’ in my house? And why the fuck are you wearin’ my shirt?”

  The bite in my words leaves no misunderstanding of my current feelings, anger radiating from every muscle in my body.

  I do not need this fucking shit.

  Not fucking ever.

  But especially not tonight. I’m wrecked.

  “Your house?” she screeches, her hands moving to her hips, bunching my shirt at her waist, causing the material to pull upward, bringing focus to her naked legs.

  “And why the fuck aren’t you wearin’ any pants?” I growl, the sound rough in my throat.

  She looks affronted, removing her hands from her hips and yanking the hem of the shirt down. “I’ve got panties on,” she argues meekly, frowning. “Wait,” she balks. “Did you say your shirt?”

  “Yeah, that’s my fuckin’ shirt.” I stab a finger in her direction. “That’s my fuckin’ bed.” I point toward it. “My couch. My fridge. My. Fucking. House.”

  Realization dawns on her face and I begin to breathe a sigh of relief, but then she laughs, awkwardly, but still, she fuckin’ laughs, her hands massaging nervously in front of her.

  “You’re Luca.”

  Raising my eyebrows, I lift my chin skeptically, but still confirm her statement with a single nod of my head.

  “Well, how’s this for awkward. So much for serendipity, right?”

  There she goes, sprouting weird shit about fate again. I stare at her blankly, not really understanding what the fuck is happening.

  Placing a hand on her chest, she smiles wide. “Frankie Walker,” she finally gifts me her name, pausing to let the information sink in. “I’m Darci’s sister,” she tests further. “Jake’s friend.”

  I nod slowly, rubbing my jaw as tension builds in my body. Puzzle pieces start clicking into place and I groan. “Please don’t tell me—”

  “Jake sublet your apartment to me? Yeah, sorry,” she cuts me off, not sounding in the least bit apologetic.

  A weighted silence falls between us, our eyes locking. Neither of us speak, our heavy breaths echoing into the quiet of the room.

  “I’m back now,” I scratch out, coughing afterward to clear the dryness in my throat.

  “I see that,” she rebuts, adding nothing further.

  “So—” I take a breath to speak, but she cuts me off. Again.

  “Thing is, my sister just had a baby and trust me, I cannot move in with my mom and dad,” she says through clenched teeth and my head starts shaking instinctively.

  Her midnight eyes storm darker, clouding with worry, her feet moving toward me as her face pleads with me to hear her out. “I need a place to crash, just for a little longer until I land on my feet. You’ve got a couch and I’m somewhat settled here. I work. A lot,” she gushes out, her words running into one another with the speed in which she speaks.

  I yank the beanie off my head in frustration, my hands running roughly through my hair. Jake is seriously gonna get a fucking ass kicking for not givin’ me a head’s up about this shit.

  “You don’t even know me.”

  She tilts her head side to side, lips pursed in exaggerated thought. It’s fucking adorable and I hate myself for thinking it. “I’ve gathered bits and pieces from your stuff. You like Nine Inch Nails,” she declares, pointing to the shirt decorating her body. “You attended their 2005 With Teeth tour.” She nods encouragingly, looking for confirmation that I don’t give her. “I’ve met you.” She pouts. “Twice.”

  Massaging the bridge of my nose, I groan loudly. I cannot believe I’m considering this deranged idea. I can’t kick her out on her ass, but more than that, maybe if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to either. That’s the fucking problem. Only bad things can happen from such a stupid idea.

  Fuck.

  “I could be an axe murderer, Frankie,” I test her name on my tongue and it feels good, better than it should.

  Bad idea. Bad, bad idea.

  She nods seriously as though it’s a possibility she’s deliberated over in the few minutes we’ve been standing here. “I have thought of that, but I’ve concluded that you’ve had two chances to give into any murderous desires you may or may not have and you haven’t. Also, you’re Jake’s best friend and he’s far too sweet to befriend an axe murderer.”

  I fight the twitch pulsing at the edge of my lips, my smile wanting to break at her ridiculous reasoning. I focus on staring at her for a long minute, considering my own crack-brained mind for even contemplating something so nonsensical.

  “You’re crazy. Totally fucking mental.”

  She grins triumphantly and for the briefest of moments, I let myself get lost in her dimples, in the sing-song squeal that breaks from her lips.

  “But you’ll let me stay, right?”

  Chapter Four

  Frankie

  “What’s up your butt?” Aubrey throws the scrunched-up paper towel she’d just used to dry her hands at Willow.

  She misses. Spectacularly. The damp tissue flying well over our heads.

  “Fuck,” she mumbles, moving on heeled feet to pick it up and throw it in the bin.

  “Fucking Archer,” Willow grumbles, thumb running along her bottom lip to tidy her lipstick. Satisfied all looks good, she turns to Aubrey and me, hip leaning against the sink.

  “Toby and I have been in a weird spot. No, that’s a lie. I’ve been in a weird spot. Sex has been… not what we’re used to. Add Lily cock blocking us at every turn, and… ugh, anyway…” she sighs. “We were getting hot and heavy in the car when we arrived tonight and, fuck,” she groans, neck tipped back in reminiscent pleasure. “It was… a-fucking-mazing, and the asshole interrupted us. I was literally mid-ride, tits in Toby’s mouth, screaming for more. My eyes open to watch my husband’s cock and his fucking face is staring back at me.”

  I laugh. As does Aubrey.

  Willow is speaking my language, I speak fluent fucking craving right now. I haven’t had a satisfying orgasm in a good few months. Not since the bar. Not since Luca. Jesus. Living with him doesn’t help my longing. Being in his space is like the worst form of foreplay, because there’s never a climax, never an encore. It’s been a little over four weeks, and I’m woman enough to admit I’m a needy mess.

  Don’t forget he stole your panties, the devil on my shoulder accuses. This may or may not be true. My clothes were laid out, perfect panties included. This is one of those dresses, the one where only one particular pair of underwear sits appropriately underneath without showing godawful lines. By some unfortunate miracle, said panties were missing from where I delicately placed them when I surfaced from the shower. The bane of my existence standing conspicuously close, challenge laid open on his face, daring me to throw out my accusation. I refused him the satisfaction.

  “It’s not fucking funny, he robbed me of an orgasm. One I’ve been dying to feel for months.”

  “It’s not a bad face to come up against when you’re reaching O,” I argue meekly on a shrug.

  Aubrey, eyes on me, nods, turning back to Willow, bottom lip tipped out.

  “I’ve known Archer since I was sixteen. We’re basically brother and sister. I’m being honest here when I say I’d rather come face-to-face with Jake. Who, I might add, I’ve seen cry because he wasn’t allowed Fruit Loops for breakfast.”

  My giggle comes on hysterically, too many champagnes cleaning out my brain cells.

  “He totally still eats Fruit Loops,” Aubrey gushes, stifling her own laugh.

  “You bitches are assholes. Where’s the fucking sisterhood?”

  Coughing, Aubrey clears the amusement from her face. “If it’s any conciliation he also walked in on Jake and me today. Let’s say the image of his lit
tle brother’s cock in my mouth is now tattooed on his brain forever.”

  Chin lifting on a small smirk, Willow raises her eyebrows. “Makes me feel a little better.”

  Willow precedes us out of the bathroom, holding the door for us to exit.

  We move toward our table, and I watch Willow kiss Will’s cheek, picking up her wine glass to settle in beside Toby.

  “I just feel it’s right you make a choice. Put these fools outta their misery,” Toby argues, his voice sluggish with the effects of the copious amount of booze we’ve all consumed.

  Focus rested on Toby and Willow, I smile at the way they touch. They’re completely in tune with one another, anticipating the way each of them moves to touch the other, meeting them halfway without a hesitation.

  “Fuck off, not happening.” Will’s quiet chuckle pulls my attention. “I refuse to buy into your insecurities.”

  I feel Luca’s body shake with obvious laughter, and I glance up, enjoying his obvious show of happiness. It’s not something I see often. In truth, I don’t see much of him at all. He may have agreed to let me live in his apartment, but he’s been working his hardest to avoid me ever since.

  I shouldn’t be hurt, the situation is weird at best, still doesn’t take the sting out of the fact that he’d prefer to be anywhere but where I am.

  Feeling my stare, he glances down at me, blue eyes glassy, smile lazy. It’s a sexy smile; pulling up on only one side, a thick line of laughter curves the uptick in his lips. It crawls all the way to his eyes, making them shine roguishly.

  The fact that I am currently without panties is not lost on me in this moment, my thighs squeezing together, forcing me to feel exactly what that smile does to drunk Frankie. Likely sober Frankie too, but I’ma just pretend this is all on the champagne; or as I like to call it, the thigh opener.

  “Hippy boy, Will’s a married man. Stop flirting.” Toby scowls at Archer’s jibe, pulling Willow closer into his body.

  “You would say that, it’s clear that Adam would choose you. Will,” Toby argues, turning back to Will, lips tipped out in a pout. “Tell me I’m the prettiest.”

  “Sorry, Tobias,” Will sounds everything but. “No can do. Francesca here’s won the lottery.” He winks over at me. “Her date is by far the prettiest.”

  Luca’s rich laughter tickles right where I don’t need it to and I curse his beautiful fucking face. What a jerk, it’s not okay for men to be that unfairly attractive.

  Slamming his beer onto the table in outrage, Toby splutters, “The Viking. Ridiculous. He’s hideous.”

  Will’s already moved on, his laughter following his escape.

  Exaggerating a dreamlike sigh, Willow bats her eyelashes. “Totally hideous.”

  I watch Luca wink at her, the strong line of his tongue dancing along his teeth in easy flirtation. I scowl at the move, jealousy piercing my good mood like a fucking balloon.

  “Trust me, China,” Toby scoffs, his lips meeting her temple affectionately. “He is of no interest to you. He plans on buying his future missus a vacuum cleaner for Valentine’s Day.”

  A hiss of disapproval slides from my lips, the sound echoed by the rest of the girls.

  “What?” Luca shrugs, his beer lifting to his mouth.

  Hands held up in surrender, Willow shakes her head, utterly heartbroken. “Oh! Sweet Jesus. This” —she runs her hand along the line of Luca’s large frame— “is ruined. Baby, no.”

  “All right, Willz.” Placing his beer on the table, Luca crosses his thick arms across his chest, eyebrow raised in her direction. “Have at it, what did our favorite hippy buy you?”

  “He didn’t buy me anything.” She puffs her chest out in pride, a sly smile stretching her painted lips. “He painted me a picture of his heart.”

  Toby kisses his wife’s neck, his arms twisting around her waist, bringing them as close as he can.

  Palm touching his chest, Luca pauses. “Literally?”

  “Painted Willow and Lily,” Toby answers for her.

  “Noted.” Luca retrieves his beer. “Draw future wife, stick creatures of her and I.”

  Snorting, I lift my glass to my lips. “You could just steal her panties.”

  Sliding his eyes to mine, his drunk eyes scan my face brazenly. “That’s more for me than her.”

  I meet the challenge of his stare, accusation thick in my gaze.

  “Personally, I find the whole concept of keeping one’s used panties quite disturbing,” Aubrey throws out, and I tear my gaze from the heat of Luca’s.

  Searching for her glass, Annabelle picks it up, saluting her friend. “Amen, sister.”

  I feel Luca’s eyes still glued to the side of my face and I work to remain unaffected. I wanted to believe it but convinced myself that Luca St. Kelly would do no such thing. No way would the delicious Thor look-a-like steal my panties like a regular creeper. Pulling them out to show me he still had them in his possession would’ve been just as convincing as that confession. Desire inches up my spine like the feel of his tongue tasting my skin. Good God, anyone else taking my underwear, my opinion would sit firmly with Aubrey’s of it being disturbing. But Luca St. Kelly kidnapping my poor, helpless panties… the split of the dress, my lack of said panties, I’m feeling a little closer to O than I care to admit right about now.

  “Frank, let’s dance.” Archer pulls me from my statuesque pose, hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

  Smiling wide, I slide my empty champagne glass onto the table. “I’d love to.”

  Hand fitting against my waist, his unoccupied one grips my hand. “Thinking pretty hard over there,” he lifts his chin in the direction of our table, a sly grin on his face. “Care to share?”

  I cough out a laugh, hoping like hell I’m not blushing like a schoolgirl. “Ummm… no.” I tip my neck back to wide-eye him. “That’s… those thoughts are… Yeah, no.”

  He laughs, squeezing my hip.

  “So… you and the Viking?”

  Feet moving in time with his, my hips sway to the music. “I’m squatting in his house. He avoids me most of the time,” I shrug.

  He senses the sadness in my tone, the rejection I feel every time Luca evades me. No one knows we have history, all outward appearances would show us as friends, roomies. But in truth, I’m no closer to knowing anything about Luca St. Kelly now than I did in the bar that night. He’s made certain of that.

  “You know it’s because he’s afraid of being alone with you, yeah?”

  I roll my eyes. “Do I give off a psychotic vibe I don’t know about?”

  Eyes closing over in amusement, he pulls me closer, lips moving to whisper in my ear. “Doesn’t trust himself around you, babe. You should see him right now, he’d cut my head clean off my body if he had an axe handy.”

  Pulling back, I narrow my eyes in disbelief.

  “Don’t look,” he barks quietly. “He’ll be over in a minute. Listen, guess you’re in pain, not sure why, ever need someone to talk to, you know where I am.”

  I open my mouth to speak but stop myself, nodding quickly.

  “Take what you want.” He gestures over my shoulder with an inconspicuous lift of his chin. “But don’t you dare let someone give you less than you deserve. You’re too good to settle for less.”

  He steps away without another word, the cautious warning lost to the shit-eating grin he throws over my shoulder.

  I feel him before I see him, the bristling anger burning my back. Cutting in front of Archer with a scathing glance, he turns us away, forcing my eyes to meet his.

  The lazy happiness that I saw earlier tonight has disappeared from his eyes, replaced with a challenge I can’t seem to pull away from.

  There’s a fire in his eyes, a salacious glint that dares me to try and reject him. Meeting his challenge, Archer’s words dancing through my mind in repeat, I link my arms around his shoulders, stepping into his agitation.

  Swaying to the beat of the song, we don’t pause as one song runs into the nex
t, the beat, thick and thrumming, tickling along my skin in temptation.

  His pelvis pushes aggressively against mine in a heated promise, rolling in time with the bass of the song. Something potent has sparked inside him, and I’m not one hundred percent positive I should let myself get caught up in his fire. But running seems futile, and in all honesty, I don’t want to.

  We’ve worked to plaster ourselves as close together as two people can be while still fully clothed. His lips shadow mine, so close the smallest movement would let us taste the kiss we’re fighting both for and against. Wanting to give in, but convincing ourselves it’s wrong.

  The hand held possessively at my lower back balls into a fist, sliding along the satin of my dress before cupping my hip in a bruising touch. A snarl echoes between us; a needy bite of irritation the only warning before he spins me, my back pulled tightly against his chest.

  The accelerated beat of my heart quickens further, and I swallow my nerves, praying he can’t feel it shaking through my body.

  A mind of its own, my body grinds sensually against his, the thick line of his cock caught against my ass. God, I wonder if he knows if I can feel him, hardening more with every second that passes. Surely he does. Maybe that’s his game, sending me wild with the promise of what his granite length can do for me.

  I shiver at the feel of his fingers at my neck, brushing the thick strands of my hair off my clammy skin. Knotting it around his hand, I cry out when he yanks at it, exposing the naked line of my neck. His nose touches me first, a tentative slide up my racing pulse.

  I feel attacked on every angle. His cock lodged between the swaying dance of my ass. His nose inhaling my need. Hand ripping at my hair to keep me in place. And just when I think I can’t take anymore, his unoccupied hand glides along the naked line of my thigh, skating up the carnal split of my dress. My leg pushes out on its own accord, enjoying his torture, silently begging him to move higher.

  He groans, and I know it’s because of what, in this single moment, we’re both starkly aware of.

  I’m not wearing panties.

  His fingers are climbing along my skin, inching closer to the part of my body crying out for him to touch. He’s so close, my mouth falling open, I let the stuttered cry trapped in my throat escape, dancing into the music.