Chapter Six

He kisses the other side of my mouth, his eyes not leaving mine.

I nod, slowly.

Luke grins as he pushes me back down against the blanket and covers my body with his. Holy Moses, he feels so good! His long, muscular body seems to fit perfectly against my soft curves. He presses one leg between mine and I can feel his impressive erection against my hip.

I push my hand under his shirt to caress his bare skin, up and down his ribs. His skin is so smooth and tight over sculpted muscles.

While he continues to make me crazy with that talented mouth of his, he runs his hand from my hip up over my shirt to my breast and I can't help but bow up off the ground, pressing my breast into his hand. My nipple is hard, straining against my bra and shirt, and he runs his thumb over it.

"Open your eyes." I gaze up into his perfect blue eyes, gazing at me with passion and hunger. My breath catches, and I run my fingertips down his cheek.

"You are so sexy, Natalie. I just can't seem to stop touching you."

"I love you touching me."

"You do?" He caresses my face, pushing errant strands of hair off my cheek.

"Yes," I whisper.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmurs, his fingers still on my cheek. "I love your curvy body."

My eyes widen.

"Don't frown." He kisses me between my eyebrows as if he's smoothing the frown from my face.

"I'm not so sure about my curvy body." It's a whispered admission that I've never made before, and frankly, I've never felt this vulnerable.

His blue gaze meets mine again, and each word is a staccato: "You. Are. Beautiful."

I close my eyes, but he tips my chin, forcing me to look at him again.

"Thank you."

His lips find mine, gently now, lingering and caressing my mouth as if we have all the time in the world. I shift my hips and grind myself against his thigh, and he groans low in his throat.

My blood is on fire. I've never wanted a man like I want Luke. I want to consume him. I want him fast and hard, and I want him to take all day. I love how tender he is with me.

He sits up, pulling me with him and grabs the hem of my shirt. "I want to see you." He's breathless and needy and in this moment I'd do anything he asked.

I lift my hands above my head, but before he can pull my shirt off, I feel drops of water on my face. I glance up and realize the sky has clouded over and it's starting to rain, the water seeping through the branches of our oak tree.

"I'm getting wet," I whisper against his mouth.

He grins, his eyes laughing at me. "I hope so."

I can't help but laugh at him, and I wrap my arms around his neck. "That too, but we're about to get rained on."

"Damn it," Luke murmurs, kissing me chastely. He runs a hand down my back, from my neck to my ass, and I think I purr.

"We should go." I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Don't think I'm not going to discover your tattoo secrets."

"What ever happened to taking this slow?" My breathing is starting to calm, but my heart is still beating fast. Oh, what this man does to me!

"I think I've changed my mind." He's perfectly serious.

Thank God!

"And why is that?" I run my hands through his hair, completely happy on his lap, with his arms tight around me.

"Because I can't keep my hands off of you. I don't know what you're doing to me, but I'm under some kind of spell." He gives himself a shake, and looks around us at the darkening sky.

"The rain is getting heavy, let's head back." He lets me go and we gather our things, jogging into the woods and to the car. By the time we get there, we're wet and laughing like kids.

"I don't want to get your leather seats wet!"

"Don't worry about it, just get in!" He opens the door for me. "I don't want you sick, baby."

Baby? Baby! Am I okay with him calling me baby? He guides me into the seat, slams the door and runs to the driver side. He looks over at me, his hair and shirt soaked, breathing hard, his beautiful blue eyes full of humor.

Oh, yes. I'm fine with it.

"Let's get you home and dry." He starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot, toward the freeway.

"So, tell me more about yourself." Luke merges onto the freeway and glances over at me.

"What do you want to know?" I ask.

"Favorite music?"

"Maroon 5." I respond easily.

"Favorite movie?" he asks with a grin.

"Hmm... we've had this conversation." I laugh. "I still like The Way We Were."

"Ah yes, you're a Robert Redford fan." He kisses my hand and I sigh.

"I am."

"First boyfriend?" His eyes turn nervously to mine again, and I freeze. How do I answer this question?

"You know, I don't do this." I turn in the seat to face him.

He glances at me, then back at the road. "Do what?"

I shrug, trying to find the words, and wondering why I feel the need to explain myself.

"Hey," he links his fingers with mine and kisses my hand before resting them both in his lap. "What is it?"

"I don't usually spend much time with men. I don't make out. I don't share meals. I don't spend time playing the twenty questions game. I just...don't." This is coming out so wrong!

He gazes at me again, surprised.

"Okay, what do you do with men?" He squirms in his seat and I think he's mad.

"I fuck them." There. It's out there.

"What?" Oh, yeah...I think he's really mad.

"Luke, I don't date." Oh, how do I explain this? I have never wanted to date anyone before. Before him.

"Are you brushing me off?" his voice is incredulous and he lets go of my hand.

"No!" I close my eyes and shake my head. "Before I met you, I mean. I just don't want you to think that I'm promiscuous or that I go out with guys into the woods after knowing them for less than two days."

"But you fuck them." He snarls.

"Well, I used to." I turn back in the seat and stare out the windshield. "Before my parents died..."

He grabs my hand again and I whip my head back to him, surprised.

"Go on."

"Before they died, when I was in college, I didn't think much of myself. And therefore, neither did anyone else. I didn't date as a choice, Luke. But sex was something I understood. I've never wanted to feel anything else for a man." I swallow hard and close my eyes in shame.

"Did something happen to you to make you feel like that?" His voice is dead calm. Too calm.

"Umm..." I've never told anyone this. Except Jules.

"Look, Nat, I feel something here too, and you can bet your sweet, beautiful ass that I'm going to make love to you tonight. I'm not going to fuck you. So I think it's pretty important that we're honest with each other now. No surprises." His handsome face is so sincere, and sweet.

"Last night you said you wanted to fuck me."

"I did. I do. And I will. But not tonight."

"Oh." I breathe.

"Yeah. So, what happened, baby?"

I pull my hand out of his and twist my fingers in my lap. Luke changes lanes and I try to gather my thoughts. Oh, this hurts.

"When I was seventeen, I dated a guy for a few months who I thought was pretty nice. I was a virgin, which he would tease me about, but I didn't care. I was only seventeen for Christ sake. ... Well, long story short, he took things too far one night. We were at my house, my parents were at some party, and we were alone, and he..." I stop talking and look out the window, not seeing the buildings and trees, swamped in shame.

"He raped me."

Luke inhales sharply, his face contorted in anger. "Motherfucker."

"That's not even the worst part." I laugh mirthlessly with the memory.

"This isn't fucking funny." He's glaring at me now and my face sobers.

"Trust me, I know." I swallow.

"You're very sweary."

"You haven't heard sweary yet. What happened next?"

"My parents came home." It's a whispered confession. Again, Luke inhales loudly.

"My dad almost killed him. The cops were called. He was punished. His dad was a senator, so along with the legal crap, my parents sued his parents and won. My dad was a very high profile lawyer. I have quite a large trust fund from the lawsuit, which will never be touched by me. I don't need it, my parents made sure I was very well taken care of, and I don't want it anyway."

He doesn't say anything for a long time. He just drives and seems completely lost in thought.

"So," I interrupt the silence, "that's why I had so many issues with guys in college. It took a few years of counseling and my parents' death to wake me up and pull me out of some destructive behavior."

"Tattoos?" he asks.

"No, ironically, the tattoos had nothing to do with my past, and everything to do with healing."

He still won't look at me. Fuck, it was too soon!

"Hey," I grab his hand in mine. "I know that was a lot to dump on you, and we just met. If you'd rather just drop me off at home and cut our losses, I understand."

"No, Natalie, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He squeezes my fingers in his and the relief I feel is incredible.

"You seem a little quiet."

"I don't honestly know what to say." He frowns and glances at me.

"I just..." I pause to collect my thoughts. "I feel this heading somewhere intimate, and I thought you should know." The last two words are a whisper.

"You've never dated anyone, ever?"

I shake my head.

"Honey, we have a lot of catching up to do." His voice is tender again and I feel hope slowly spread through me.

"We do?"

"Oh, yeah. I have one question, though."

"Okay."

"Where is that fucker?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Because I'm going to kill him."

I can't believe he just said that! I chuckle softly. "No need. I'm sure he's a miserable man, Luke."

"He should be in hell."

"He will be." I grasp his hand tighter with mine. "Trust me, he's not an issue anymore. My dad saved me."

"Thank God." He kisses my knuckles, and I feel him start to relax beside me.

Wow, I told him the worst, and he still wants to see me? How did I get so lucky?

Luke pulls up in front of my house and turns off the car. He opens my door for me, and lifts my camera bag out of the back, following me to the house. I unlock the door and motion for him to come inside.

"Jules!" I call out for my roommate, but the house feels empty.

"I don't think she's here." I smile at him and take my bag from him, setting it on the floor and my purse on the table. I take his keys from him and lay them on the table as well.

"Can I show you around?" I suddenly feel shy.

"Sure, after you."

I grasp his hand in mine. "Thank you for joining our tour today, Mr. Williams, we're delighted to have you with us."

Luke laughs, a full-on belly laugh, and I feel my shyness melt away. "Oh, I do love your sense of humor, Natalie."

I pick my camera bag back up off the floor and he raises a brow. "I'll show you the studio and put this away too."

He nods and I lead him through my house.

"I see you have a great view too," he motions to the floor to ceiling windows off the great room and I smile.

"I do. This is obviously the living, dining and kitchen." I glance at the reds and browns of our couches, dark wood dining furniture, and the simple elegance of the kitchen.

"Great kitchen." He winks down at me.

"Yes," I reply and he chuckles. "But I don't cook much. Jules does a lot of the cooking."

"I'd love to cook for you here." His gaze is bright.

"I'd like that." I feel my cheeks heat. "Okay, let's go out to the studio, then I'll show you around upstairs."

"Out?"

"Yeah, I converted the guest house into a studio. It's my favorite part of the house. Come on."

I lead him out the sliding glass doors, across the back yard to the studio. I pause at the door and look up at him speculatively.

"What is it?" he asks, curiosity written across his face.

"Don't freak out on me, okay?"

"Why would I freak out?"

"Well, I told you I don't do traditional portraiture." I bite my lip.

"Baby, after our conversation earlier, and the way I feel about you right now, I guarantee I will not freak out."

I watch his face, and see that he means it and turn to unlock the door.

Here goes nothing.

I walk in ahead of him and put my bag on the floor. I switch on the lights and Luke follows me inside. He stops just inside the threshold; his jaw dropped, his eyes wide, taking in my studio.

I turn and look with him. There is a king sized bed in one corner with white sheets draped over the canopy, ready for tomorrow's session. There are more floor to ceiling windows—perfect lighting!—across the room. I have racks of lingerie, corsets, boas, shoes, and other props. But what he seems to be focused on are the canvass photos hanging around the room.

He walks over to one and gazes at the couple in the throes of passion. It's in black and white; a side view of a couple laying on my king sized bed, the man is on top, braced over her, his mouth on her br eas t. Her head is thrown back, her mouth open, her leg wrapped around his hip and her foot resting on the back of his thigh.

It's an erotic, intimate photo, and one of my favorites.

Luke turns in a circle, taking in all of the art on my walls; some of women or men in provocative poses, most of couples in different sexual positions. Finally his eyes find mine.

"This is what I do." I whisper.

"Natalie,"—he swallows and looks at my favorite photo again.—"This is incredible."

"Really?"

He nods, his eyes wide. "Yeah, it's amazing. Sexy as hell. How did you get into this?"

I can't stop the smile on my face. "In college. Girls wanted me to take boudoir photos of them for their boyfriends, so I set up a makeshift studio in my apartment and started the business there."

"And the couples?"

"That sort of evolved. Most of them are return customers, the boyfriends or husbands loved the photos of their girls, and they wanted intimate photos of them as a couple."

"It's not porn." I just want that clarified, and watch his face.

He frowns. "Baby, this is art. It's definitely not porn."

I smile, relieved. "There's a bedroom that I use to store props and furniture in for various shoots, and I use the kitchen to store refreshments for the clients. Sometimes the girls like to have photos taken in there too. It's fun."

He walks over to me, cups my cheek in his palm and kisses me softly. "You're amazingly talented."

Wow.

"Thank you. And for the record, I don't ever have sex in here. Ever."

His eyes dance with mischief. "Is that a challenge?"

"No, it's a fact."

"Why?"

"Because these aren't my memories. They're my client's."

"So, you don't bring men in here?"

"Just you, handsome." I smile shyly.

"Good to know."

"Actually," I continue, looking him square in his bright blue eyes. "I've never invited a man to my home before."

His eyes widen and he inhales deeply. "Your bed?"

"Just me."

"That's about to change." He grasps my hand and pulls me out of the studio, slamming the door behind us, leading me back into the house.

"Where is your bedroom?"