“Oh yeah?” He quirks his eyebrow up. “Did it turn you on?”
“Lukas . . .” I look around the table to see if anyone is listening to us.
He touches my cheek and turns me back to him. “Hey, don’t try to back pedal into shyness.”
“You’re so bad.” His teasing has become a sweet addiction for me. “You love to make me crazy.”
“You have no idea how bad I want to make you crazy, Ivy.” His gravelly voice caresses my senses, and I squeeze my thighs together. Verbal foreplay is something I’ve never experienced before, but wow, does he make it work.
He clears his throat. “I want you to know, I only play the intros and solos on a few songs. I don’t go on tour with the band or go to all the practices. I only play some of the local clubs with them.” He looks me dead in the eye. “My commitment is to the shop. And you.”
“Oh,” I say, shocked by his words. “Me?”
“Yes, you . . . I don’t want a fling, Ivy.” I love his serious voice. It’s deep, calming, and permanent. He doesn’t ever lie or say something he doesn’t mean, and I admire that about him more than anything else.
“I don’t either,” I answer, hoping he can feel that I mean my words just as much as he does.
We stay for the rest of the set, and when the last song is played, he nuzzles into my neck and whispers in my ear, “Let’s go. I need to be alone with you.”
He’s like wildfire on the drive back to his place, playing metal music on the radio and tapping his hands on the wheel. It’s obvious the music really gets him going and makes him feel alive. I don’t mind because I’m still replaying the night in my mind, trying to sort out my feelings; who he is, and what he does, makes me nervous. His work, his hobbies, and his passions all put him directly in front of women who want the novelty of a man like him. Sexy. Unique. Talented. Popular. Creative. Romantic.
After losing my husband to another woman’s shameless sluttery, giving my heart to a man who has a target on his body and heart by probably several hundred women scares the ever loving shit out of me. Could I deal with it without feeling paranoid all the time?
On the other hand, I’m extremely drawn to those unique aspects that make him so special. Watching him on stage and hearing his music was a total turn on, and that surprised me. It was a little bit exhilarating to know that so many of those women wanted him, but he was coming home with me. It made me feel special and wanted. It made me feel young again.
Reaching across the car, he takes my hand and raises it to his lips, then rests our clasped hands together on my leg. “You’re quiet,” he says, over the music. “Are you all right?”
“I’m great. I was just thinking about how amazing you were tonight. And Evie loved the song Storm sang to her. She was really touched by it.”
“I was hoping you would like it. Maybe Storm’s plan of wooing Evie worked.”
I smile over at him and tighten my fingers around his. “I’m pretty sure it did. It was a really sweet song, just like you.”
He chews his lip ring for a few seconds, then glances at me briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I’m not always sweet and quiet, Ivy.”
The tone in his voice is now deeper, mysterious, and dark, making my stomach do a slow flip.
I lick my lips nervously, because I love my sweet Lukas and can’t imagine him any other way. “Okay,” I murmur, but I’m not sure he hears me because he doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. He just holds my hand and nods his head to the rock music blasting from his stereo.