Lukas

Her aqua eyes shimmer as she smiles at me. “I plan to keep you around.”

“What if Paul did want you back? If he knows you’re moving on, it could wake him up to see what he really had.”

She stares at the fire, thinking, and while I want her to be sure, I hate that she’s thinking about it. I mean, that’s bad, right? If she has to think about it for longer than two seconds?

“Lukas,” she finally says. “I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”

My heart stops beating. My lungs stop breathing.

“And?” I urge, going mad in the silence.

“And I feel a very intense connection to you. I think you know that.”

“And?”

“Lukas, stop being five for a second and let me talk, okay?” she teases.

“Sorry. Talk faster.”

She grabs my hand. “I don’t want Paul back. I really like what’s happening between you and me. It’s happening faster than I thought it would . . . but I love how you make me feel. I love being around you. You make me happy.” She looks up into my eyes and smiles. “But . . .”

“There’s a but?”

She moves her fingers up to my wrist, rubbing over the scars that have been there for a long time. “This scares me, Lukas. I can’t make any guarantees right now, and I don’t ever want you to hurt yourself if things didn’t work out between us.” She swallows hard and continues to rub my wrist. “We have a long road ahead of us, and as much as we may want it to work, we don’t know what could happen. I need to know that you’re okay, that you wouldn’t do something like this if something happened.”

I clench my jaw, hating my past and the demons that haunted me then, and sometimes still do.

She puts her latte off to the side and moves closer to me. “I really didn’t want to have this conversation this morning, after we had such a great night,” she says.

“No, it’s okay. You have a right to know what kind of head case you’re sleeping with.”

“Lukas, I do not think that at all, but this is serious. It’s a red flag.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” I admit. “I was young when I did this. I was fourteen. My mother’s phone number was in some things I had packed from my great-grandmother. I carried it around with me on a little piece of paper for months before I finally got enough courage to call her. I was pretty miserable at my foster home.” I let out a sigh, and she holds my hand tighter. “Anyway, I’m not sure what I was thinking was gonna happen, but I called. When she answered, I told her who I was, and she said, ‘I don’t want you. Don’t ever call me again. I don’t want anything to do with you.’ And she hung up on me.”

“Oh my God, Lukas. I’m so sorry.”

“Anyway, I kinda lost it. I was already pretty messed up in the head, drinking a lot, and just depressed. I wasn’t sleeping, and was having a hard time adjusting to being in school after being homeschooled when I was younger—just everything. My friend Finn found me. He lived across the street and just came inside when I didn’t answer the door. He called an ambulance, and from what they tell me, I was technically dead for about two minutes.”

Ivy squeezes my hand even harder. “Lukas . . .”

“So, I ended up in the psyche ward, of course, and my foster parents were pretty disappointed, to say the least. Then I was in therapy for quite a while, learning how to accept the fact that some people might not want me, but I’m not supposed to kill myself over it. I’m stronger now, Ivy. I’ll accept it if you don’t want me. I won’t try to off myself. I have the shop, and my brother, and Katie, and Gram, and the fucking bird to take care of. I’ll be fine.”

She throws her arms around me and hugs me so tight I can barely breathe. “I hate that someone hurt you, Lukas.”

I hug her back. “It’s all right. Shit happens. I’m okay now, really.”

She turns her face into my neck, and I feel her tears against my skin. “It’s not okay. You’re an amazing person. I love your heart so much. I don’t ever want you to feel pain like that again.”

I love your heart.

“Well, with any luck, I won’t ever feel that way again.” I pull her away from me so I can see her face. “But I do not want you held hostage over this, Ivy. If you have to leave me someday, then you have to. You can’t stay, just because you’re afraid to hurt me or that I might hurt myself. I wouldn’t do that. I just kinda wanted to be sure you were over Paul before we got more involved, because, fuck yeah, it would hurt to lose you.”

I wipe the tears off her cheeks with my thumb, and she leans forward and kisses my lips really softly, like she’s trying to kiss it all away for me.

“I’m over Paul,” she says between kisses. “I’m falling for you pretty fast and hard, though, and it’s scary. I wasn’t expecting any of this . . . you, the age difference, the band . . .”

Leaning back onto the floor and pulling her on top of me, I move her hair over to one shoulder so I can kiss her neck. “None of that matters, Ivy. All that matters is how we treat each other, right?”

“You’re right.”

“And how we make each other feel.” I gently bite her neck, my hands sliding down to her waist.

“Yes.”

“And right now, I want to feel you come on my mouth.”

I love the little gasp of surprise that she makes. “Lukas—”

I pull my t-shirt up over her head and throw it across the room, liking the fact that she keeps putting my sweaty clothes on her body.

“Your shyness is adorable, doll, but you should know it only makes me want to do dirty things to you. You’ve waited way too long to be fucked and loved the right way.” I yank her panties off and throw those, too. “I’m gonna leave the choice up to you again.” I kiss her breasts and slide my hands down to grab her ass. “You’re either gonna sit in that chair over there, and I’m gonna eat you like a Chinese buffet, or you’re gonna sit on my face and ride my tongue like a cowgirl.”

“Holy shit, Lukas,” she whispers.

“Choose or I’ll do it for you.” I suck her nipple into my mouth and flick my tongue over it, her breath quickening.

“Buffet,” she says breathlessly, her nails digging into my shoulders.

I stand and carry her over to the red velvet, antique chair in the corner of my room. “Damn,” I groan. “I was hoping to be a pony today.” I sit her down in the chair, secretly loving the shocked look on her face as she watches me kneel in front of her and spread her legs.

Sitting back on my heels, I enjoy the view of her spread in front of me, her creamy pale thighs taut, her long hair flowing down her chest, her nipples peeking out. She looks incredibly beautiful and sensual, every part of her waiting for me. I’d love to take a picture of her like this and draw her this way.

“For God’s sake, Lukas, don’t stare at it,” she says, turning eighty shades of red. I slide my finger slowly down her slit, watching as a tiny drop of moisture drips from her. I lean forward and lap it up, and she jumps, grabbing my head.

“Jesus!” she exclaims, her body bucking up toward me.

“You can call me that, baby. We’re in my church, after all.”

Grabbing her legs, I lift them and rest them on my shoulders, turning my head to lick and kiss her thigh, feeling her muscles quaking.

I lick her lips slowly, my tongue gently sliding between her folds, exploring her sweetness. Spreading her with my hands, I delve into her, swirling my tongue inside her, using my tongue and lip piercings to rub against her sensitive spots, making her quiver against my lips. Pushing one, then two fingers slowly inside her, I drag my tongue up to play with her clit, licking her in circles, slow at first and then faster, as I feel her body pushing against my face. I know she’s trying to fight it, but she can’t. Sucking her little bud into my mouth, I piston my fingers in and out of her faster, her hands grasping my hair, her hips thrusting against my face, finally letting herself go and giving in to the pleasure. She starts to moan, and I suck her delicate flesh harder, shaking my head, devouring her as her thighs tighten around me. Soon, she’s shaking and whimpering, pulling my hair, coming all over my tongue and face, driving me wild for her with her little squeals.

My cock is rock hard in my jeans, and I want to beg her to suck me, but I have a feeling she’s not ready for that just yet, especially with her strange mouth and fork fetish. Instead, I quickly unbutton my jeans, yank the zipper down, grab my throbbing cock, and thrust it into her as she’s still coming.

“Oh my God,” she moans, wrapping her legs around my waist. She’s so hot and wet around me that I only get a few deep thrusts in before I’m coming inside her, all my control lost.

“Fuck,” I gasp, grabbing her neck and pulling her to me for a deep kiss. I literally want to just devour this woman with my mouth and my cock.

We kiss long and slow, as our panting subsides and our brains defog. She rubs my back in slow circles and kisses me softly, lovingly, on my lips, face, and neck, as we come down from post-orgasm bliss. It feels like Heaven.

Fuck me; I am so falling for this girl. I’m done. Stick a fork in me.

Ivy told me during one of our epic text conversations over the Christmas holiday that she never gets to relax on weekends because she’s always doing laundry, cleaning the house, and taking care of the kids, so I make sure we spend the rest of the day relaxing. I lure her into the shower with me and give her a nice soapy massage, shampoo her hair, and bundle her up in one of the band sweatshirts. Asher had this idea few months ago to print funny hashtags on the sweatshirts and t-shirts for each guy in the band, and mine says #worshipme.

Ivy reads it on the sweatshirt and raises her eyebrow at me. “Do I even want to know what this means?” she asks.

“It’s just a joke. Vandal’s says #getvandalized, which is way worse.”