Trust An Even Hand Page 8

  Her fingers stopped and rested on his huge, hard shoulder. Like they had a mind of their own. She could feel the heat of him through his t-shirt, the solidness of the muscle underneath, the sheer power it represented.

  That, and she’d just swatted a Dom.

  Charlene looked up slowly. Her eyes trailed up his muscular legs, his quads and whatever the hell other muscles he had clearly visible, even in jeans. Up to his narrow waist, his t-shirt half hanging over his belt, until she was looking dead ahead at his broad, muscular chest, his t-shirt hanging off it like that was how all men’s t-shirts were meant to hang, and she’d only just figured that out by looking at this absolutely perfect specimen of male beauty.

  And then she got to his face. His beautiful, rough, freaking magnetic face, with his gold-flecked eyes flashing, his jaw set.

  God, if she hadn’t already known he was a Dom, the expression on his face would have clued her right the hell in.

  Luke knew. He knew she couldn’t get enough air whenever he was this close. He knew the pressure was growing between her legs. He knew her nipples were hardening. He knew everything, and he had the littlest smile on his face, like it was so funny.

  “Sorry,” she managed to breathe out.

  Charlene knew she should look away. But nothing on Earth could have made her move. Except Luke.

  He grinned.

  And then wiped the dollop of cream right on the tip of her nose.

  Charlene burst out laughing. “What is wrong with you?” she said, wiping cream from her face.

  “You look good like that,” Luke said, still grinning.

  Charlene swallowed. He had to know what that made her think, right?

  His expression changed. Darkened. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

  “You look even better blushing under it,” he said.

  Damn. Damn. Damn.

  She blinked heavily, trying to remember herself, trying to get away from her body in this ridiculous moment.

  “I told you I’m not your sub,” she said again. Like a mantra.

  An unconvincing mantra.

  “Of course,” Luke said. “You’re not ready yet.”

  Charlene reeled, put the bowl of whipped cream down with a thud. Something inside her grabbed on to that sense of offended outrage with enthusiasm. With gratitude. Anything but this but this attraction that felt like a slow moving natural disaster.

  “Excuse me?” she said.

  “You heard me,” Luke said, and popped a strawberry in his mouth. He pinned her again with his eyes, totally unyielding.

  Again, all she could think was: What does he see?

  What does he see that I don’t?

  When he spoke, his tone didn’t allow for any argument. Any discussion. It was like he painted reality with his words, and afterwards it was impossible to see it any other way.

  And he had a question for her.

  “Why did you refuse Simone’s help, Charlie?” he said.

  Chapter Ten

  Luke couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She was goddamn beautiful. Not just how she looked, although he’d never been this attracted to someone in his entire life. How she moved. How she let her emotions play across her face. How she was warm and soft and brave, all at once.

  Part of that was how badly his presence knocked her off balance. The attraction between them, that was a once-in-a-lifetime hit. That was a force of nature. And it threw her for a loop, knocked her off her game. Knocked her defenses right down. If Luke hadn’t had a Dom’s discipline, it would have messed with him too.

  So it took her a while to talk back.

  “What did you say?” she said.

  “You heard me,” he said again. “Why’d you refuse Simone’s help with the dress thing you’ve got going on tomorrow?”

  Charlene stared at him, like she couldn’t believe someone was calling her on something. But that wasn’t it. She was stalling for time.

  Because she’d figured out that Luke not only wouldn’t lie to her, he wasn’t going to let her lie to herself, either. And she didn’t like it.

  Too bad.

  One thing Luke had figured out while installing a custom security system in the summer sun all day was that no security system was going to be enough to keep Charlene Bastien safe so long as she let her fears run wild in her heart. So he was going to help her with that, too. Even if she hated him for it.

  And even if he wished that he could just pick her up and lay her down on this kitchen table, right now, and make it all better that way.

  “I didn’t know you were eavesdropping,” she said.

  Deflecting.

  “I was standing right there, finishing your milk,” he said. “Not eavesdropping. Stop avoiding the question.”

  Charlene went back to furiously whipping the cream in her bowl, then stopped as Luke picked up a bunch of dishes.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she said.

  “Cleaning up,” he answered.

  “If you put soap in my grandmother’s skillet I will personally—”

  He grinned. “Personally what?”

  “Just put the skillet down, buddy.”

  “Only if you answer the question.”

  Charlene looked up at the ceiling, shaking her head. Fine.

  “It’s just a stressful job,” she said. “And Simone’s not in a great place right now, and I’m not putting that on her. I care about her too much for that.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Charlene slowly stopped whipping, and looked at him.

  “Excuse me?” she said. Again.

  When he spoke again, it was all Dom.

  “Don’t blame Simone,” he said. “She doesn’t need you to protect her. It’s you that doesn’t want to let her help. Ask yourself why.”

  Charlene stared at him, her eyes wide. Her lips parted. Her face open, expressive.

  Like a perfect sub.

  And like a perfect sub, she took his words to heart. Luke could see, moment by moment, how she saw the truth in what he’d said. How she didn’t know what to do with that information yet. How that made her sad.

  He fucking hated to see that. But her safety was more important. Which meant he wasn’t done.

  “Charlie,” he said, his voice pitched low, calming. “I need you to be honest with me. Is there anything I need to know about Jimmy? For your safety?”

  Charlene raised her eyebrows, looked down at the whipped cream that was now more like sugared butter. Her shoulders had been up by her ears, tense. She let them go.

  “Well, he cheated on me relentlessly,” she said finally. No more resistance. Looking right at him. “Manipulated me into thinking I was crazy. Controlled me. Got physical a few times. And even after I caught him, I begged him to stay.”

  The flat sadness in her voice broke his goddamn heart. The acceptance. Charlene blamed herself, and it made Luke want to break the man who made her think that way.

  “How did it end?” he asked.

  Charlene laughed bitterly. “When he found out I was using the inheritance I got from my father to start a charity instead of spending it on him, he decided I wasn’t worth it anymore. And he left.”

  She put down the whisk. She wasn’t shaking; she was beyond that. She was mad. And Luke could see that she was so far used to this, she didn’t even let herself feel the heartbreak anymore.

  “So you couldn’t trust your Dom,” he said.

  She looked at him.

  “No,” she said. “Not really.”

  “And now you don’t trust anyone,” Luke said. “Not even your friends. Not even to help you.”

  Luke held her gaze, and knew she couldn’t look away. He saw her eyes brimming with tears, her lips set in determination not to let those tears win. Luke was used to having to control his Dom urges whenever she looked at him. But this time all he wanted to do was hold her.

  But then bright, white light flooded the kitchen, casting Charlene in Luke’s shadow as he stood over he
r, then slowly panning away. Took them both by surprise for a second. Then Luke was headed toward the front door, his fists clenched.

  Those were headlights.

  He was out on the porch, down the drive, nearly to the road just in time to see the taillights of a truck receding. Same make and model as the truck he’d seen Jimmy driving when that son of a bitch had been here the first time, scaring Charlene.

  Luke exhaled, his heart thumping. But the threat was gone. He turned back around, knowing where his responsibility was now—help her feel safe.

  But when he got back inside, Charlene was finishing up. She’d cleared away the plates, the whipped cream, everything. Her face was set. Resigned.

  She looked up at him as he came in.

  “Jimmy?” she said. No emotion.

  “He’s gone,” Luke said. “And I’m here.”

  Charlene nodded, then looked up at him again. Broke his heart all over again, too.

  “Thank you for being here,” she said. “But don’t talk to me about trust. I know all about it.”

  “No, you don’t,” he said. “You can trust me. And when I tell you that no one is going to hurt you in your own house, you can believe it.”

  Charlene didn’t say a word. That was the hardest part. She nodded, but he could tell that she didn’t believe him. And as Luke watched her walk back up to her bedroom, he could only think one thing.

  Goddammit, I am going to fix this for her.

  Maybe if Luke hadn’t have been there, she’d have been scared. Maybe.

  But mostly what Charlene felt, as she was falling asleep, was frustrated.

  Her ex being a terrible human was nothing new. The fact that it had screwed up her life was nothing new. And the fact that she was resigned to being alone, or at least being Dom-less, was nothing new.

  Luke was new.

  She would have known how to handle it if it hadn’t been for Luke. She had years of practice making herself feel better after Jimmy had scared her, or hurt her, or disappointed her. She could soothe herself from that with no help at all.

  But she couldn’t get the look Luke had given her out of her mind. She couldn’t get the way it had felt to have him rush to the front door out of her heart. And she couldn’t get his words out of her brain.

  You can trust me.

  Charlene almost never remembered her dreams, but that night she didn’t have a choice. They kept waking her up right before the best part. It was always just as Luke finally, finally laid his hands on her, or just as she could feel him slowly slide into her, and then she’d wake up, alone and hot and burning to the touch.

  This time she punched a pillow. It didn’t help. At all.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in the kitchen, when she’d swatted at his arm for stealing some whipped cream. Just a dumb, silly, fun moment. But with a Dom, that kind of flirting turned into a different kind of game on a dime.

  Charlene could still remember the exact look in his eyes. The promise there, of what he would do to his sub for that kind of infraction.

  She groaned. Every dream had some part of that. Some part of that fantasy. What would he do?

  She sighed, and let her fingers trail down her body, trying to imagine what his touch would feel like. Rougher. Bigger, definitely. The heat inside her had never dissipated, and now it started to build again, the more she thought about his hands. About that look in his eyes.

  About Luke clearing the kitchen table with his arm. Looking at that cleared table, with the perfect place for her on it. Removing his belt, slowly, the leather sliding between his hands as he held her with those eyes.

  The feel of the leather around her wrists as he bound them behind her back.

  The scratch of her skirt bunching up around her hips as he pushed it up, the bite of her panties into her flesh as he tore them clear off.

  The crush of the hard kitchen table has he bent her over it, his hand in the middle of her back, her breasts pressed against the wood while her naked ass served itself up to him.

  The sting of his big hand spanking her naked flesh, the wetness of her thighs as her body made itself ready, practically screamed for him to finally, finally fuck her, in every which way he wanted to, just do it, please, please, please…

  No.

  Not just then. He spanked her ass red first, the way it used to feel when she’d been disciplined so good, and then he saw her. He saw how much she wanted him, how useless and utterly in his power she was, and then he took her. His hands wrapping around her hips and pulling her back onto his big, thick cock as he thrust into her, impaling her…

  Charlene came screaming into her pillow, her voice torn from her throat in huge, shuddering wails, her body shaking as she soaked her own sheets. She gripped the pillow so hard her knuckles turned white, and it took an eternity for her to let go.

  What in the world was that?

  She’d never been able to make herself come that hard on her own. She’d always needed a Dom. She’d always needed a good Dom.

  Luke was so good he didn’t even need to be in the room.

  And on that thought, Charlene’s morning alarm went off. She jumped about three feet to shut the damn thing off, spooked by what it meant. It wasn’t the middle of the night anymore. The day was starting, and she had things to do. She had to get downstairs.

  Where Luke was.

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlene took a deep breath, checked herself in the mirror one more time, and walked down the stairs.

  She’d set her alarm early, intending to get a jump on the day—and on Luke. She hadn’t forgotten about the conversation they’d had the previous night, and she hadn’t forgotten about the way it had made her feel. He was right that she didn’t trust anyone, but that wasn’t exactly her fault, was it? She had just adapted to the world, and it was working out pretty well for her so far, that minor hiccup with her jerkwad ex driving by to scare her notwithstanding.

  And then she’d had to go ahead and dream about Luke. And then, after she’d dreamed about him, she’d had to touch herself. And then her early morning, where she got downstairs and took control of her kitchen and her life again, was totally ruined.

  He’d already made coffee.

  In fact, he was waiting for her.

  A man should not look that good first thing in the morning. He was leaning up on her counter in some old scruffed-up blue jeans and a t-shirt, having his coffee and reading her newspaper, with his sandy hair still wet and his gaze intent. He looked up as soon as she came in the room, though. Looked up, and locked on her.

  Charlene shivered. She looked down, away—and looked right at the kitchen table, the one he’d bent her over in her fantasy. She balled her hands into fists and tried to ignore the pounding pulse between her legs.

  She’d hoped that she’d gotten him out of her system this morning. No such luck.

  “You’re up,” he said. “We have a lot to do.”

  “What?” she said. “What do you mean?”

  Luke slid off her counter with that easy, animal grace of a natural athlete. He didn’t look fazed.

  “I’m going to finish your security system today,” he said. “And then I’m going to show you how to use it.”

  Charlene licked her lips and swallowed—slowly. How did he make that sound sexy?

  Focus.

  “I have to go to the dress place this morning,” she said. “And then I have to go to the restaurant, and then I need to stop by Bastien House to see how—”

  “Nope,” he said.

  Calm. Cool. Certain.

  “Excuse me?” she said for about the millionth time.

  Luke shook his head and smiled down at her.

  “Not without me you’re not,” he said.

  “I can do what I damn well please,” Charlene said.

  “Sure you can,” Luke said, and poured himself some more coffee, not even a little bit bothered. “But I’m not going anywhere until you’re safe, and we both know the restaurant
and your charity’s gonna be just fine without you for a little while. Whether you can handle that is different.”

  She stared at him. He grinned.

  “Not to mention, I bet Olivia would have some words about you planning her wedding if she thought you were ditching your security detail,” he went on. “But that’s not why you’re not going to do it.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Nope.”

  Charlene’s heart thundered in her chest. She knew the answer before she asked the question, but she had to do it anyway. She felt like a little mouse—a little sub—that had just been very carefully, very cleverly, boxed in.

  “Then why aren’t I going to do it?” she said.

  Luke looked at her like she’d asked the most obvious question in the world.

  “Because I told you not to,” he said.

  Charlene stood there in stunned silence.

  Luke drank his coffee.

  She couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

  And then he looked up, once more, and looked her over, something flashing in his eyes. And said, “You look nice.”

  A warm glow washed over her, and she let it. Somewhere in the middle of that mind-bending conversation, Luke had found the chink in her armor, and the warmth of his approval managed to get in. She had no idea what to do.

  Then the doorbell rang, and Luke was at instant attention. It was amazing how fast he moved, how quickly his body language changed. How fast he was at getting his body between hers and the door. Charlene barely had time to warn him off.

  “It’s Simone!” she said. “Don’t scare her!”

  Instantly Luke relaxed, and when he looked over his shoulder, he was grinning.

  “She going with you to that dress shop?” he asked.

  Charlene grit her teeth. Time to own up.

  “Yes,” she said. “I did some thinking last night, after our conversation, and I…decided to text Simone.”

  Luke turned around fully now, his eyes roving over her body in a way she found…God. If he could touch her with his eyes, he was doing it right now. She could feel him. Feel his appraisal. Feel his appreciation.

  He inhaled deeply. Then looked at her and said one word.