busy drowning in alcohol and jealousy to think straight.
With a sigh, he pushed away from the tree, his gaze glued to her slender form, the breeze rustling her silky hair, her nipples poking the front of her shimmering low-cut negligee, the satin clinging to her hips.
Tyler had probably just crawled from between her thighs, and damn if Luc didn’t want to crawl between them himself. He wanted her so badly, he didn’t give a shit if he got sloppy seconds.
He was in so fucking deep.
Finally, he stepped into the streetlamp’s pool of light.
Alyssa gasped, then smothered the sound with her hand. She peered down at the bottle he clutched. “You’re drunk.”
Luc wished that were true. He shook his head. “Not for lack of trying.”
“Come inside the house and let’s get some sleep.” She turned for the front door.
He darted after her. Just inside the foyer, he grabbed her arm. “You have nothing else to say?”
She sent him a sharp glare. “No one asked you to leave.”
“So I was supposed to watch him maul you?” Luc slammed the door, enclosing them in shadowy silence. Then something terrible occurred to him. “Oh, hell, no. Did you want us both to fuck you? Together? Never going to happen. I may not have exclusive rights to you, but I won’t voluntarily share you ever again.”
Alyssa wrenched her arm free from his grip and slapped him. “Goddamn you! I’m so tired of you finding every snide, roundabout way possible to call me a whore. Just grow the balls and say it. C’mon! You think I fuck everything in pants.”
“Didn’t you have sex with Tyler just now?”
Her mouth tightened. Pain crossed her face for a moment—until fury took over. “Since you left, you’ll never know.”
She stepped into the living room and turned for the stairs. And Luc couldn’t stand it. He should let her go; this consuming sort of anger wasn’t normal, wasn’t him. But he couldn’t do it.
He lunged and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her against him. She’d know instantly how hard he was, but what the hell? He was perpetually hard around her. And if she hadn’t figured it out yet, he had more than a little clue for her.
“Did you let him fuck you tonight?”
Damn if his voice didn’t break. Luc didn’t want the answer to matter, but he was way past pretending it didn’t.
She struggled to get free, but he held firm. When she gave up, he turned her to face him.
“Did you?” he demanded.
“You don’t know a damn thing about me, and that question proves it. Even if I gave you the truth, you wouldn’t believe it. You want to hear that I went down on him in the bathroom, then we moved to the bedroom so he could suck my tits while I rode him, then after a reverse cowgirl, he finished me off from behind. That enough detail for you?”
Luc closed his eyes against the image her words painted. God, he was going to throw up Jack Daniels everywhere.
He tightened his grip on her. “Is that the truth?”
“Wouldn’t that make your life easier? You could quickly write me off. Oh, fuck me first, of course. Everyone else does, right? But then you could walk away because I’m nothing more than a whore. Well, you know what? Fuck you.” Alyssa elbowed him in the stomach.
Luc grunted and doubled over, clutching his middle, as he glared at her retreating back.
“Damn it, Alyssa! I . . .”
“You what?”
What had he been about to say? Did it really matter? He’d insulted her utterly—and he still didn’t know if he was right. He just knew that he had a terrible fear that if he let her go upstairs and into her bedroom alone, he might never have the chance to touch her again.
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted.
“You’re right!” she screamed. “You don’t know. You don’t know shit about me. Did you ever think there was a woman under all this makeup and provocative clothes who had real feelings that had nothing to do with sex? Did you ever think that maybe I wanted you to see me
With a sigh, he pushed away from the tree, his gaze glued to her slender form, the breeze rustling her silky hair, her nipples poking the front of her shimmering low-cut negligee, the satin clinging to her hips.
Tyler had probably just crawled from between her thighs, and damn if Luc didn’t want to crawl between them himself. He wanted her so badly, he didn’t give a shit if he got sloppy seconds.
He was in so fucking deep.
Finally, he stepped into the streetlamp’s pool of light.
Alyssa gasped, then smothered the sound with her hand. She peered down at the bottle he clutched. “You’re drunk.”
Luc wished that were true. He shook his head. “Not for lack of trying.”
“Come inside the house and let’s get some sleep.” She turned for the front door.
He darted after her. Just inside the foyer, he grabbed her arm. “You have nothing else to say?”
She sent him a sharp glare. “No one asked you to leave.”
“So I was supposed to watch him maul you?” Luc slammed the door, enclosing them in shadowy silence. Then something terrible occurred to him. “Oh, hell, no. Did you want us both to fuck you? Together? Never going to happen. I may not have exclusive rights to you, but I won’t voluntarily share you ever again.”
Alyssa wrenched her arm free from his grip and slapped him. “Goddamn you! I’m so tired of you finding every snide, roundabout way possible to call me a whore. Just grow the balls and say it. C’mon! You think I fuck everything in pants.”
“Didn’t you have sex with Tyler just now?”
Her mouth tightened. Pain crossed her face for a moment—until fury took over. “Since you left, you’ll never know.”
She stepped into the living room and turned for the stairs. And Luc couldn’t stand it. He should let her go; this consuming sort of anger wasn’t normal, wasn’t him. But he couldn’t do it.
He lunged and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her against him. She’d know instantly how hard he was, but what the hell? He was perpetually hard around her. And if she hadn’t figured it out yet, he had more than a little clue for her.
“Did you let him fuck you tonight?”
Damn if his voice didn’t break. Luc didn’t want the answer to matter, but he was way past pretending it didn’t.
She struggled to get free, but he held firm. When she gave up, he turned her to face him.
“Did you?” he demanded.
“You don’t know a damn thing about me, and that question proves it. Even if I gave you the truth, you wouldn’t believe it. You want to hear that I went down on him in the bathroom, then we moved to the bedroom so he could suck my tits while I rode him, then after a reverse cowgirl, he finished me off from behind. That enough detail for you?”
Luc closed his eyes against the image her words painted. God, he was going to throw up Jack Daniels everywhere.
He tightened his grip on her. “Is that the truth?”
“Wouldn’t that make your life easier? You could quickly write me off. Oh, fuck me first, of course. Everyone else does, right? But then you could walk away because I’m nothing more than a whore. Well, you know what? Fuck you.” Alyssa elbowed him in the stomach.
Luc grunted and doubled over, clutching his middle, as he glared at her retreating back.
“Damn it, Alyssa! I . . .”
“You what?”
What had he been about to say? Did it really matter? He’d insulted her utterly—and he still didn’t know if he was right. He just knew that he had a terrible fear that if he let her go upstairs and into her bedroom alone, he might never have the chance to touch her again.
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted.
“You’re right!” she screamed. “You don’t know. You don’t know shit about me. Did you ever think there was a woman under all this makeup and provocative clothes who had real feelings that had nothing to do with sex? Did you ever think that maybe I wanted you to see me
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