Luke
My eyes drifted to my silent passenger as I turned down her parents’ driveway.
Even though she’d showered at my apartment—twice because I couldn’t keep my hands off her the first time—she’d still had to put back on her costume from the other night so I could take her home.
We’d spent yesterday in bed. The whole day. Talking. Laughing. Fucking. God, the fucking… and it felt like the best goddamn day of my life, and it was all because of her.
She reached up and began to fiddle with her necklace, murmuring, “It would be great if I had ruby red slippers to take me right up to my room.”
I chuckled. “Why?”
“Because I’m giving the Wicked Witch the worst walk of shame.”
My smile spread wide, a low rumble shaking my chest. “Sweetheart, the Wicked Witch had a house fall on her,” I drawled lightly. “Pretty sure she’d be pretty damn okay with missing slippers and a torn dress after a night of thorough melting.”
Her breath caught adorably, and she slid her focus to me, cheeks tinting pink. I couldn’t resist reaching over and brushing the top of one swell with my thumb. “You know why I love making you blush?”
“Because it feeds your ego?” Her eyebrow drew into a peak.
I dragged my thumb to her lower lip, stroking its fullness. “Because the color is Pink Lady pink.” God, she was perfect. “My favorite.”
She hummed but didn’t say anything else.
As soon as I put my truck in park, she let out a deep exhale and opened the door, but her head snapped in my direction when I did the same.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
My grin tipped. “Not letting you walk in there alone,” I explained, making it around to her just as both feet touched the ground. Notching my fingers under her chin, I lifted her face up. “We’re together, Sage, for real,” I reminded her huskily, dipping my head so my lips danced just above hers. “Now let me walk you inside like a gentleman.”
Rose’s squeal of excitement abruptly cut off when she realized I’d come inside with Sage. Grabbing her sister’s arm with an eager grin, she pulled my wicked little witch upstairs and left me alone to face the severity of my best friend’s stare.
I caught Sage’s backward glance, worry filling it up like an open faucet, wondering what was going to happen between her brother and me.
I gave her a quick wink, watching her blush spill down over her chest. Damn, I hoped Callan left my balls intact so I could thoroughly enjoy her pink tits later.
Clearing my throat, I quickly took a seat at the Walkers’ kitchen counter as soon as Sage was out of sight.
Probably best to hide my hard-on from my best friend, considering it was provoked by the memory of Sage’s dusky pink-tipped breasts bouncing as I fucked her against my shower wall this morning.
“You know, I really wasn’t expecting part of me to want to maim you if you and Sage really got together,” Callan said, swiftly returning me to the moment as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
My lips pulled into a tight line, and I nodded, understanding. “Well, part of me never expected all of me to fall for your sister,” I offered.
He took a deep breath and then reached for a second mug, filling it up and setting it on the counter in front of me. A good sign.
“It’s weirder than I thought. My baby sister… and my best friend,” he admitted. “Like saying you’ll go skydiving. Words are one thing, but when you’re standing at the open door, about to jump out of the plane with nothing more than a piece of fabric to help you land, it’s a whole different story.”
I swallowed a full gulp of coffee before replying. “So, is it a good weird or bad weird?”
His jaw clenched and he paused. “Mostly good because I know the kind of man you are.”
My chin dipped.
I knew my intentions were good. I knew how I felt about Sage was real. But that didn’t change the reputation I had and the reasons I had it. Thankfully, Callan was one of the few people who knew why.
“But just a little bad knowing that if you hurt her, I won’t be able to forgive you.”
“I won’t,” I swore, my grip tightening around my mug until my knuckles faded white.
It wasn’t necessary to dredge up the pitfalls of my childhood. There were far worse things than having parents who had set ideas of exactly the type of person they wanted me to be—everything from the grades I got to the sports I played to the career path they chose.
It was why any kind of celebration growing up in my house—birthday or otherwise—was limited, because if I didn’t fall in line with exactly what Coach Chambers instructed, there was no reason to celebrate; I’d failed. And failure required punishment.
And those expectations didn’t stop at the classroom or locker room door. They branched out like poisonous vines, affecting the friends I was allowed to hang out with and the girls I was expected to date.
And it was a fucking travesty, not a cliché that, as the quarterback, I was expected to date cheerleaders.
“It took a long time for me to have the confidence to go after what I really wanted in life. Professionally, with the brewery. And personally.” I sat back and folded my arms. “And I have you… your family… to thank for a big part of that.”
His eyes snapped to mine. “Are you telling me I only have myself to blame for you… and my sister?”
I chuckled. “I’m saying that you know better than anyone, once I know what I want, that’s it for me.” I paused and added with a softer tone. “She’s it for me.”
He exhaled loudly. “I do know.” The shadow of a smile touched his lips. “And I want you both to be happy.” He took another swig of coffee. “Still going to take some time to adjust to the fact Lucky Luke is getting lucky—” he broke off with a groan. Grabbing his mug, he walked over to the liquor cabinet, uncapping a bottle of whiskey and adding a healthy splash to the mug. “Want some?” He tipped the bottle in my direction.
I held up my hand and shook my head.
I had some driving to do today.
“Thank you,” I told him, but not for the offer of whiskey.
He nodded slowly, and if he was going to reply, it was cut off by the flurry of footsteps heading directly for us.
“You’re still here.” Sage stopped short.
She’d changed from her well-worn costume into something that was classic Sage—a burgundy plaid dress with a black sweater, wine-colored stockings and her black boots.
“Waitin’ on you, beautiful,” I said, wincing when Callan muttered under his breath. As soon as she’d walked into the room, I’d forgotten about everyone else except her.
Callan strode to his sister, kissed her on the cheek and then, with a tight nod in my direction, left the two of us alone in the kitchen.
“But… I have to go to Portsmouth,” she murmured, her brows creasing adorably. “I told you, I have to go see this space that’s up for rent—”
“And I want to take you,” I declared, rising from my seat and closing the space between us in two easy strides. Wrapping my arms around her, I tugged her against my front. “Do you have a problem with that?”
She rolled her lower lip between her teeth in a way that made me want to bite and suck on its sweetness. “No, but…”
“But what?” I nuzzled her neck, flicking my tongue out over her pulse.
She shivered. “I-I don’t know.”
Laughing low, I kissed her forehead. “Well, you can think about it on the way,” I told her. “Now, let’s get going. I don’t want you to be late.” Sliding my hand lower, I tapped her ass, enjoying her small yelp as she skipped forward to the door, glaring at me over her shoulder.
In a little over an hour, we were parked at Sage’s apartment in Portsmouth so she could grab a few things before we had to meet the realtor at the store space just a few blocks over.
“Wow,” I muttered, having to walk carefully into the two-bedroom apartment because if it wasn’t the hallway filled with towers of boxes, it was her jewelry supplies that, though neatly stacked and arranged in huge clear organizers, still took over a majority of the space.
Buried under the home base for her business, there was a kitchen to the far right with a small dining table and two chairs. The living room had a deep green sofa with no space to sit because of the packing and shipping material laid out in an assembly line on the cushions.
“I know. It’s a mess.” She huffed, grabbing a few things from her desk drawer. “This is why you shouldn’t—”
“Not amazed at the mess, Sage,” I informed her with a smile, my eyes lingering on the delicate intricacies of the handful of necklaces and bracelets that were on a makeshift display for photographing them. “Amazed that you haven’t gotten store space sooner with this kind of demand.”
I’d started the drive by asking her about the location we were going to see, knowing that discussing her business always seemed to open her up—and it did just that. We’d rapidly gone from growth and expansion to profits and loss to what her ultimate goals for her business were.
Even though I had a rough idea of numbers, it was something else to see the physical evidence of her success—and the shadow of her fear.
“It’s a big step… a big commitment.”
I hummed, walking slowly toward her open bedroom door. “Can’t learn to fly if you never take your feet off the ground.”
I smiled. Her bedroom as bright as her wardrobe and her bed covered with a Harry Potter quilt.
“Maybe I’m afraid of flying,” she mumbled, moving next to me.
I slid my eyes to her and then reached out, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her lips to mine, searing them with a hard kiss. “No, you’re not.”
“How do you know?” She sighed into me.
I kissed her again, letting my tongue linger in the hot heaven of her mouth. “Because witches aren’t afraid of heights,” I replied, spearing my fingers into her hair, dislodging it from the dark red scrunchie holding it back. “Or magic.”
I tipped her head to give me deeper access, licking and stroking along her tongue until her little moans fed my lust. Before I knew it, her back was against the doorjamb and my free hand found its way to her breast.
My cock hardened in my jeans and I groaned. I wanted to peel her out of her dress and feast on the most perfect tits I’d ever seen.
“We need to go,” she said breathlessly against my hungry mouth.
Grunting, I drew back, sliding my tongue along her lower lip and then taking one last gentle kiss to hold myself over.
“Yes, we do,” I agreed and then added, “So we can come back here, and I can see how far I can make that Pink Lady blush of yours go.”
My grin widened, seeing the start of that color bloom in her cheeks.
“You’re insatiable,” she scolded, and led the way to the door.
“I like to think I’m in-Sage-able.”
She liked my pun… and she’d like my proof once I had her to myself again.