When the aftershocks faded, Luke pulled out of me and we crawled up to lie on the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. My legs felt like jello and I was exhausted and energized all at once. Luke ran his hand down my body, slipping his finger between my thighs and playing in the wetness there. Then he froze, his muscles tightening against me.

“Emma,” Luke said frantically. “I forgot protection. Today and last night! Oh, God, baby I’m so sorry!”

“Luke, its okay, I promise. I’m on the pill. And if you’re worried about other things, you don’t have to. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time and I’ve always been careful.”

“I wasn’t worried about that, sugar, but you don’t have to worry about it either. I swear. But, we’re good? I don’t have to go buy stock in Trojan?” Luke grinned down at me, his fingers beginning to slowly circle my clit again, making me buck my hips against his hand.

“Luke!” I moaned, pressing my thighs together around his hand, stilling his questing fingers.

Luke smiled softly at me, dipping his head to kiss me before asking, “Too sensitive?”

I nodded. “Sorry…just need a minute.”

Both of us jumped then as we heard a door slam downstairs, and Brandon yelled, “Yo, Luke! Hey, bro, you upstairs?” We heard footsteps hit the first stair and begin ascending.

Luke and I looked at each other, our eyes wide. Ohmigod! Brandon was seriously about to see so much more of me than he bargained for, or, for that matter, more than I’d ever want him to see! I waved my hand frantically at Luke, silently entreating him to do something.

“I’ll be down in a sec, man!” Luke yelled.

We both sprang from the bed and got dressed before heading downstairs. My face was flaming, knowing that I was, essentially, doing the walk of shame; something I had avoided for the entirety of my life thus far. I ran my hands nervously through my hair, hoping to tame at least some of the freshly fucked look out of it, but I had a sinking suspicion that I failed miserably.

We hit the last step and I heard Brandon whistle long and low through his teeth, before he grinned and said, “Well, well, well. What have we got here?”

I blushed even harder, unable to force any words past my lips. I settled for giving him a small wave as Luke just shook his head at him.

I tuned both of them out as Brandon began asking Luke questions about the shop and what had happened there last night. Since neither of them were paying attention to me, I wandered through the living room, looking at the few pictures that were hanging intermittently throughout the room. Most of them were of Luke or Brandon bent over someone, working on a tattoo. There were a couple with Luke and Brandon standing in front of the shop with an older man, heavily tattooed, with a grey handlebar mustache and a bald head. I assumed that this was the infamous Lenny.

On the wall by the downstairs hallway, there were two diplomas hanging there, and beside each was a picture of the boy receiving it. My heart swelled as I read the names neatly typed on the diplomas, Lucas Tyler Crimshaw and Brandon Joel Crimshaw, because I now knew just how hard they had each worked to get them, never letting life stand in their way.

I looked over my shoulder at them, both of them so mouth-wateringly sexy, and reality began to sink back in. I knew more about Luke now, but it still wasn’t enough. He was so…hot, and I was so…me. We were from two completely different worlds, and he still expected me to just accept his decree that I was his. (I must admit, though, that it did funny, fluttery things to my insides when he said it.)

Luke glanced over and caught me staring at him, a slow smile spreading across his face, even as he continued speaking to Brandon. Brandon followed his gaze and grinned from ear to ear as he saw the way Luke and I were staring at each other. Interrupting Luke in mid-sentence, Brandon clapped him on the shoulder, nodded once, and took off down the hall.

Luke turned to watch him go, surprise flitting across his face before he turned to me and shrugged, the smile that had slipped when Brandon walked away returning in full force. He took a step forward, I assume to come to me, but all of a sudden a yellow blur jumped off the couch and stood blocking Luke.

Luke said, “Not now, Doug.” He stepped to the side to walk around the large animal, but Doug followed, blocking him again. Luke sighed and stepped back to the other side, and Doug followed again. Luke threw his hands up in the air and asked, “What? What the hell is wrong with you, dog?”

At Luke’s words, Doug sat on his haunches, threw his head back and began howling out all his doggie woes. Apparently there were quite a few of them, because this continued for a good two minutes. When he got out everything he needed to say, he shut his mouth with a snap, and I swear to you, nodded once at Luke, just like Brandon had a few minutes before.

I lost it, cracking up laughing when Luke just nodded back and said, “Okay. We done?”

I guessed they were when Doug stood up, sidled close to Luke, and nudged Luke’s thigh with his nose, earning a quick pat from him, before Doug trotted off down the hall in search of Brandon. I heard Luke mutter, “Damn dog!” before he started towards me again.

Before he got to me, I held up my hand, palm out, saying, “Wait. I…you…just…will you take me home, Luke?” I finished quietly.

He froze, his eyes becoming shuttered, and then he turned on his heel and headed out to the car. I followed, feeling like a total bitch, knowing that I had hurt him somehow.

Chapter 9

Monday proved to be a disaster. Hands down, it had to be the worst day of my life so far. It even topped the Bushzilla incident, and the only thing that topped that was when Calland had snuck about six of his friends into the bathroom where I was showering when I was sixteen. Calland had stood with his back to the curtain, his hand covering his eyes as he ripped the curtain back to reveal a (now hysterically screaming) naked, soapy me to six slobbering, perverted fourteen year old boys. As if that wasn’t enough, I found out later that one of them had snuck his mom’s camcorder over to our house and they had managed to be quiet and still long enough to hold it up over the shower curtain rod without me seeing.

Imagine my surprise when, during a very nice slideshow put together painstakingly by my mother for my high school graduation party, my senior picture was suddenly replaced with a shaky video of a very naked, soapy me dancing around singing “Man! I Feel Like a Woman” by Shania Twain at the top of my lungs.

So yeah. Bad day. It started when I didn’t wake up with my alarm. I didn’t really fall asleep until almost four in the morning; I couldn’t get Luke’s face out of my mind, the way he looked at me as I got out of his car and then pulled away without looking back. He hadn’t said a word the whole way, the car filled with tension so thick you could taste it.

I got to work an hour and a half late. Floyd was standing beside my desk frantically throwing files around. When I walked in, apologizing profusely, he just held up his hand and demanded I find the file he was missing. I couldn’t find it, and he had to go to court without it.

Then, in an effort to wake myself up, I made a pot of coffee. I carried my cup to my desk and stubbed my toe on the corner, which made me spill coffee all down the front of my favorite white cable knit sweater I had decided to wear that day.

I managed not to maim myself or anyone else for a while, but at lunchtime, I realized that I had forgotten my purse at home in my mad dash to get to work. Therefore, I had no way to eat lunch because I for damn sure didn’t have time to pack anything that morning. So, stomach growling, I munched on a roll of mints that I had found shoved in the back of my desk drawer.