Page 71 of Come to Me
"The truth is very important here."
"And what truth is that?"
"You were implying some sort of dissatisfaction. And I simply cannot have that. In fact, I'm not going to be happy unless you're incredibly satisfied." He runs his fingers along my arm. "Incredibly satisfied, incredibly often."
I look into his eyes.
There's lust there, but there's something else too. There's a vulnerability.
"Mr. Lawrence, don't tell me you're suddenly doubting yourself."
"No, I still have vivid memories of that night. And I'm damn certain that you came at least three times."
And now I'm the one with flushed cheeks.
Luke smiles.
"I love when you get shy," he murmurs. "There's an adorable innocence about it. An innocence I want to corrupt."
Well, fuck.
He's certainly pushed aside any nerves. Or maybe he hasn't. Maybe he's masking them with the one thing he can always be confident about.
I can't blame him. He's fucking fantastic with his hands, his mouth, his cock.
If I were him, I'd brag more than he does.
The waiter returns with another round of drinks and we order. Luke says nothing when I order the usual seared fish and vegetables. Not a peep about treating myself or recovery or any of that bullshit. There's nothing on his face either.
Maybe he's going to mind his own business from now on.
No, that's not fair. I want to bring him into this. I want to tell him how I feel. But I have to do it on my terms.
"You can say it," I prod him.
"Say what?" He takes a long sip of his wine, his lips wrapped around the edge of the glass. God, have his lips always been that gorgeous?
"Make a comment about what I've ordered. We can get this all out of the way now, so I don't have to stew while you're watching me eat."
"No comments. I promise. You said you're doing okay. I trust you." He leans closer. "I love you so much, Ally. I don't want to do anything that would hurt you."
"Everyone hurts each other. It's inevitable."
He shakes his head. "Maybe. But I have an almost painful urge to protect you."
"Then why did you tell me to do the play?"
"I have an equally painful urge to make sure I'm not getting in your way."
"You never could."
His expression says he doesn't buy it.
"What if you stayed in LA because of me?"
"We'd have been spared this afternoon's fight."
He brings his gaze back to me. His eyes are on fire again. "Be honest. Do you wish you'd turned down the play?"
