“Well?” he asks, out of breath, the adrenaline obviously still thrumming through his veins. I hand him my glass of water, and he gulps some down.

“Lukas, that was amazing!” Amy screeches before I can even open my mouth. “Holy shit, you rocked it!”

“Thanks, it was fun.” He smiles at her and then turns his attention back to me. “You’re not saying anything,” he says, sitting and pulling my chair closer to his, trying to catch his breath at the same time. “Those lights are fuckin’ hot.”

I force a smile onto my face, still not sure how I feel about all of this. “I’m just surprised . . . I had no idea you played the violin . . .”

“And the piano,” he adds, grinning.

“And the piano,” I repeat, “ . . . in a rock band. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks around at the crowd and then back at me. “I was afraid it might scare you away. And I kinda wanted to surprise you.”

“You definitely surprised me. It was awesome, though. Going from that slow beautiful classical tune, then to metal was just incredible. I loved it.” I lean a little closer to him and lower my voice. “You looked really sexy up there strutting around.”

“Oh yeah?” He quirks his eyebrow up. “Did it turn you on?”

“Lukas . . .” I look around the table to see if anyone is listening to us.

He touches my cheek and turns me back to him. “Hey, don’t try to back pedal into shyness.”

“You’re so bad.” His teasing has become a sweet addiction for me. “You love to make me crazy.”

“You have no idea how bad I want to make you crazy, Ivy.” His gravelly voice caresses my senses, and I squeeze my thighs together. Verbal foreplay is something I’ve never experienced before, but wow, does he make it work.

He clears his throat. “I want you to know, I only play the intros and solos on a few songs. I don’t go on tour with the band or go to all the practices. I only play some of the local clubs with them.” He looks me dead in the eye. “My commitment is to the shop. And you.”

“Oh,” I say, shocked by his words. “Me?”

“Yes, you . . . I don’t want a fling, Ivy.” I love his serious voice. It’s deep, calming, and permanent. He doesn’t ever lie or say something he doesn’t mean, and I admire that about him more than anything else.

“I don’t either,” I answer, hoping he can feel that I mean my words just as much as he does.

We stay for the rest of the set, and when the last song is played, he nuzzles into my neck and whispers in my ear, “Let’s go. I need to be alone with you.”

He’s like wildfire on the drive back to his place, playing metal music on the radio and tapping his hands on the wheel. It’s obvious the music really gets him going and makes him feel alive. I don’t mind because I’m still replaying the night in my mind, trying to sort out my feelings; who he is, and what he does, makes me nervous. His work, his hobbies, and his passions all put him directly in front of women who want the novelty of a man like him. Sexy. Unique. Talented. Popular. Creative. Romantic.

After losing my husband to another woman’s shameless sluttery, giving my heart to a man who has a target on his body and heart by probably several hundred women scares the ever loving shit out of me. Could I deal with it without feeling paranoid all the time?

On the other hand, I’m extremely drawn to those unique aspects that make him so special. Watching him on stage and hearing his music was a total turn on, and that surprised me. It was a little bit exhilarating to know that so many of those women wanted him, but he was coming home with me. It made me feel special and wanted. It made me feel young again.

Reaching across the car, he takes my hand and raises it to his lips, then rests our clasped hands together on my leg. “You’re quiet,” he says, over the music. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great. I was just thinking about how amazing you were tonight. And Evie loved the song Storm sang to her. She was really touched by it.”

“I was hoping you would like it. Maybe Storm’s plan of wooing Evie worked.”

I smile over at him and tighten my fingers around his. “I’m pretty sure it did. It was a really sweet song, just like you.”

He chews his lip ring for a few seconds, then glances at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I’m not always sweet and quiet, Ivy.”

The tone in his voice is now deeper, mysterious, and dark, making my stomach do a slow flip.

I lick my lips nervously, because I love my sweet Lukas and can’t imagine him any other way. “Okay,” I murmur, but I’m not sure he hears me because he doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. He just holds my hand and nods his head to the rock music blasting from his stereo.

Earlier, I told him Macy was staying over at a friend’s house, and he knows that Tommy is with Paul this weekend, thus leaving me free for the entire night.

Free to not go home.

Free to stay at his place.

Free to sleep with him.

Free to be . . . free.

IVY

HE OPENS MY CAR DOOR FOR and then puts his arm around me, protecting me from the cold air as we walk across the dark parking lot to his house. Snow flurries are falling softly as he unlocks the door and lets us in.

Helping me off with my coat, he also removes my lace jacket and lays them on the wooden bench in the foyer by the door.

I shake the snow off my head, laughing. “I didn’t know we were supposed to get sn—”

I’m cut off by him grabbing me around the waist, spinning me around, and pushing me up against the wall, his hand fisting my hair and yanking my head to the side, my cheek pressed against the stone wall. His body engulfs mine, his muscular chest pressed against my back, his hard cock against my ass, his thighs flush to the back of mine. I feel trapped between his body and the stone wall of his foyer, and I relish in it, my heart pounding hard against my ribs. I want to be in his prison.

“Put your hands on the wall.” His voice is breathless and raspy, just above a whisper in my ear. A shiver trots down my spine, but I do as he says, simply because he told me to. And right here, in this moment, with his beautiful hard body against mine, his hand tangled in my hair, I would do anything he asked of me. I press my palms against the wall—the wall that was once a church.

“Ask me why I live in a church,” he says, as if reading my mind, gathering more of my hair in his hand and gently pulling it all away from my face and neck.

“Why do you live here?” I ask breathlessly.

“So you can worship every . . . fucking . . . inch . . . of me.”

Oh, shit. Sweet Lukas has left the building.

“And I plan to do the same to you, doll.”

He touches his lips against the side of my neck, while his free hand goes to my waist, holding me as he begins an oral assault like I have never imagined. He moves his mouth down to the side of my throat, kissing, sucking, and nipping at my flesh, slowly dragging his tongue down to my collarbone. He continues raining more kisses upon me, tugging my hair, forcing my head to arch back more so he can lick and suck my exposed neck like a hungry vampire, the piercings on his lip and tongue flicking over my flesh. I practically go limp against his body, the feel of his warm wet lips intoxicating me, rendering me drunk and woozy.

Pushing my silk top up until it’s bunched up at my shoulders, his lips come down on my bared back, kissing and licking between my shoulder blades, igniting warm tingles throughout my entire body. I feel him unhooking my bra, the fabric falling to my sides, and his tongue slithers down my spine, slowly tasting me, until he is kneeling behind me, kissing the small of my back. Letting go of my hair, he grabs the waist of my jeans in his hands and pulls them down, along with my panties, in one swift yank, making me gasp. They pool around my ankles, leaving me naked against the wall. I’ve never been so incredibly exposed, and I’m caught some place between incredibly flustered and wildly excited.

“Lukas . . .”

“Shhh . . . trust me, and you won’t walk out of here the same, baby.”

His hands slowly caress my thighs, while his lips travel over my hip, then down further, kissing my buttocks, lightly nipping me, making me jump.

“Turn around,” he whispers, his hands on my hips, guiding me around, leaving me no choice but to turn to him. I lean my back and head against the wall, lightheaded, and look down at him, kneeling in front of me like a sexual God, his eyes glazed and full of smoky desire and passion. My God, he actually wants me. Me.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, skimming his hands up my calves, then up my thighs, and finally resting on my hips. Leaning forward, he kisses my stomach—my most hated part of myself. I reach down and try to pull his head away, but he grabs my hands and holds them to my sides while he continues to kiss my stomach.

“There’s no part of you I don’t want,” he says, and I lean back and close my eyes, trying to quell my insecurities and just lose myself in him and his touch. Letting go of my hands, he slides his palms down my hips and to my thighs, gently pushing my legs apart. I feel his lips encompass my clit, flicking his tongue slowly over that tiny sensitive spot before sucking it into his mouth. My entire body lurches from the unexpected shock of pleasure, but he holds me still with his hands and pushes his face between my thighs, running his tongue along my pink flesh, parting my lips. His mouth feels incredible, so warm and wet, and my legs go weak as he licks me, my pussy quivering, aching for more of him.

Standing, he drags his hands up my body and rests them on my neck, lightly squeezing while kissing me long and deep, possessing me, his tongue dancing with mine.

“I’m taking you upstairs,” he growls between kisses. “And I don’t plan on letting you out for a long time. So if you don’t want this, please stop me now.”

My breath catches in my throat. Only Lukas would say please in the middle of an insanely sexy sentence and still make it hot as hell. I shake my head. No. Don’t ever stop.