Chapter Twenty-Nine
“You sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” Lila asked as she slung a pristine Coach bag over her shoulder. “I can cancel my appointment and hang with you.”
Kori laughed. “For the third time in a half-hour, I’ll be fine. I have a lot to think about. Plans to make. The alone time will do me good. And besides, you’ll be gone for what? Two hours?” The two of them had hit it off on sight and she felt like she’d known the doctor for years instead of days.
“At the most. Just a cut and color. Then I’m swinging by Emily’s to pick her up. The other girls are driving themselves and will be here around two, so get ready to meet the gang. We’re a great group of gals if I do say so myself.” Lila plucked her water bottle off a console table near her front door and smiled. “I cannot wait to see what you do with that table out in the garage. Striker thinks I’m nuts for buying it. Knock his socks off, girl.”
“Well, I’m not sure a refurbished table has the power to do that, but I’ll give it my best.” During the tour of their house two days prior, Lila had shown her the garage and an old farm table she’d purchased secondhand. The foundation was solid, but the wood needed some serious love in the form of sanding and painting. When Kori mentioned she loved that sort of work, Lila had practically begged her to rehab it. The idea was perfect. Now she’d have something besides obsessing over Lucky to fill her time.
“Go, go. You’ll be late.” Kori shooed Lila out of her own house and went to change into work clothes. After settling on cutoff jean shorts and a spaghetti strap tank, she snagged her new phone and headed to the garage. It wasn’t the best outfit for sanding and painting, but the temperature was far too high to cover herself fully.
After scrolling through to her favorite playlist, she grabbed the handheld sander and got to work. Peace settled over her as she ran the sander over the weathered wood with rhythmic strokes. Though she’d told Lila the alone time would be used to plan her next move, something she needed to do sooner rather than later, her mind blanked until nothing but the smell of wood and the crooning melody of her country playlist registered.
It had been over a month since she’d had any inner serenity and the momentary reprieve from disturbing thoughts was priceless. Before she knew it, dust covered every inch of exposed skin, her arm and back muscles ached, and an indeterminate amount of time had passed. Best of all, she felt happier than she had in weeks. A little manual labor was better than therapy.
She switched off the sander and joined Carrie Underwood in singing about a nasty tornado. If she wasn’t careful, the girls would show up and she’d be a hot, sweaty mess of wood powder. Not the best first impression. Time to head in and get cleaned up.
With a shake of her hips, she sang in a voice that would probably make Carrie Underwood cry with despair. “Shatter every window till it’s all—Holy shit!” As she spun, she came face to face with Lucky. His smoldering gaze was low, trained exactly where her shimmying ass had been just seconds ago.
Kori held a hand over her racing heart as though that could somehow calm the rapid beat. Damn he looked good. Jeans fitted over his thick thighs and narrow hips. A black T-shirt under his cut highlighted the impressive contours of his chest. “Jesus, you scared the life out of me. Uh…what are you doing here, Lucky? Striker isn’t here.”
Slowly, very slowly, he trailed his eyes up her body, lingering at breast level before landing on her face. Millions of nerve endings on her skin snapped to attention and fizzled as though he’d run his hands over her instead of just his eyes. Wishful thinking. The mind was a powerful thing and she could almost feel his touch. The memory of his hands on her was something that would never fade, something she could conjure up at any time just to torture herself.
“I’m not here for Striker. I know he’s at the clubhouse.” Lucky prowled forward until he stood just two feet from her.
“Oh, well, is there something you needed?” Nerves began to flutter in her stomach. She linked her fingers behind her back. The action thrust her breasts forward—a fact that clearly didn’t escape Lucky’s attention—but it maximized her chances of keeping her hands to herself.
He nodded. “I’m here to apologize for the other day. You took a big risk coming here.” He snorted. “Hell, you did what I should have done six weeks ago. Anyway, I lost my shit on you and I’m sorry.”
She studied him for a second, the sincerity of his words in opposition to the tension in his posture and the rising anger that competed with lust in his eyes. He was still mad at her. Rightfully so. In all reality, the mad would probably never fade. With a heavy sigh, she waved him in. “Let’s go inside. It’s too damn hot out here.”
Whether it was the actual air temperature or Lucky’s presence that had sweat rolling down her spine remained to be seen.
A low chuckle reached her ears, as though he caught the double meaning to her words. After they were inside the cool foyer of Lila and Striker’s beautiful home, she faced him with a false sense of bravado. “No apology is necessary, Lucky. I deserved everything you said and then some. What I did was—What are you doing?”
He stalked forward, eyes hard, body harder and she backed up until her spine met the wall. Lucky’s forward progression didn’t stop until he was mere inches from her. One at a time, he slapped a hand on the wall, next to her head, effectively boxing her in. She jolted both times the crack of his palm on the wall broke the silence.
He didn’t answer her question, but he didn’t have to. The fierce expression on his face said it all. No forgiveness for her. Nor had he forgotten anything.
She swallowed and forced her attention on his stony face. “You’re mad. And you have every right to be.”
Lucky shook his head. “I’m not mad.”
Really? A small pilot light of hope ignited low in her belly. “You’re not?”
“No.” His voice as hard, impassive. “I’m fucking furious.”
Oh shit.
“I had it right all along. For twenty years. Get ’em on their backs, fuck ’em, be done. Countless women. Easy come easy go. No one gave a shit going in; no one felt like shit coming out.”
“Lucky,” she whispered. It took every ounce of strength she had to keep her arms at her sides. All she wanted in that moment was to grab him and yank him against her. Feel the hardness of his muscles molding into her softness. Use her body to soothe them both. He was so damn close, yet farther than she could hope to reach.
“Then you came along,” he continued as though unaware of her murmured plea. “You fucked my mind up, Kori. For the first time in my life, my head was as involved as my dick, and that’s saying something because I was on you, and in you constantly. And then, what did you do? Want me to remind you?”
Her eyes filled and she shook her head. If he said it, described just how deeply she’d cut him, she’d lose it.
“No? Well, you know exactly what you fuckin’ did. You want to know the worst part?”
Did she? No. Hell no. But she remained silent. He needed to get it out and she needed, even if she didn’t want, to hear it. There were consequences to every choice. She chose to go along with Rebel’s plan, even if protecting Lucky had been her only thought. Now it was time for the consequences.
“It’s this.” He closed the gap between them and pressed the steely rod of his erection into her stomach.
Her reaction was instantaneous. Everything in her went soft, as if preparing for his touch, his mouth. Her nipples beaded so fast it was almost painful, and her panties dampened in a rush. God, his weight felt so good against her. So unbelievably good.
“Even after you screwed me over, I want you until I fuckin’ ache. Even after having you multiple times a day for weeks I’m harder for you than I’ve ever been for any woman. Even after you fuckin’ gutted me, I’m going to fuck you against this wall until you can’t stand.”
Yes! Her insides went liquid. Molten at his words. Without warning, his mouth crashed down on hers. The kiss was hard, possessive, rough. He captured her lower lip between his teeth and gave a firm nip before plunging his tongue into her gasping mouth and stealing her air. A strapping thigh worked its way between her legs and wedged against her center. Nothing could have stopped her from grinding against it, riding his leg.
Her head spun and her pussy throbbed with need. This was exactly what she wanted. Wild, unrestrained, consuming, almost…angry. The word pierced through her haze and brought her back down to earth, or almost so. Her body still hummed with an intense desire. “Wait.” She spoke around his mouth and gave him a firm push. The word was garbled by his lips, but she got through.
He pulled back and stared down at her, his erection still pulsing against her stomach. “What?” It was more a bark than a question.
“Don’t do this.”
He scoffed. “You telling me you don’t want this? Bullshit. My thigh is fucking wet because you’re so damn soaked it’s leaking around whatever scrap of panties you have on. And your nipples are practically ripping holes in my shirt. But you want me to stop?” He hadn’t backed up even and inch and his chest rose and fell against hers, teasing said nipples with each inhalation.
“No. Yes.” She closed her eyes. “I mean, don’t do this as a punishment. Rage at me, storm out, never speak to me again, but don’t do it this way. I can’t—” She shook her head and opened her eyes, meeting his stormy gaze. “I’ll break,” she whispered.
The breath he blew out seemed to deflate some of the wrath he came at her with. He dropped his forehead to hers. “It’s not a punishment. I’m not doing it to get back at you.”
“Then why?” She held her breath as she waited for the answer.
“Because I still wake up every morning hard as a stone and reach for you in my bed. Because at least twenty times a day I think of something I want to tell you. Because I smell you in a house you’ve never stepped a foot in. Because there’s only one thing in this world that will make me feel better right now, even if it makes me feel a hundred times worse later on.”
There was no way in hell she’d refuse him. He hated her for what she did to him. But there was one thing he still wanted, maybe even needed from her. And she’d give it to him. Willingly. Gladly. Hell, she’d beg for it herself if she had to.
“I’ve been sanding all morning. I’m filthy.”
He nuzzled his nose against her ear. “You think I give a fuck?”
“No?”
“No.”
She turned so her lips were less than a breath away from his. “Then fuck me, Lucky. Please fuck me until we both forget. I’ve needed you like I never thought could be possible these past few weeks.”