My Husband's Son

Chapter Three

LUCA

I slammed the door of the bar open like I wanted it to rip it off its hinges.

The Bass hit me first and then there were lights shining red and purple. The smell of sweat, alcohol, cheap cologne, expensive perfume was everywhere.

I was pissed so pissed that I itched for a fight as a let out. My father’s voice was still ringing in my ears, about how I was a disappointment and how he tried to control me and claim it is “family duty.” I’d walked out before I said something that couldn’t be taken back, before I wrapped my hands around his smug throat and showed him exactly how much respect I had left.

Which was none.

I went straight to the bar.

“Whiskey,” I snapped, slapping my palm down. “Neat.”

The bartender slid it over and I drank it down in one go, the heat tearing through my throat. Good. I motioned for two more cups, and drank it successively.

Women looked at me. Of course they did. They always did. Long lashes, tight dresses, curious smiles. Usually I noticed. Tonight, I didn’t give a s**t. I didn’t want pretty words or practiced flirting. I wanted to forget. I wanted noise in my head loud enough to drown out my father’s voice.

That’s when something cold and wet splashed across my chest.

.

The glass shattered at my feet and the whiskey was spreading on my shirt. Then I looked down at the cause of the accident and.....

Fuck.

“I—I’m so sorry! Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry.”

Her voice was breathless and panicked.l but she was spectacular—all legs and t**s. I wasn’t sure why her legs looked so long ’cause she was actually pretty tiny, but I was sure her almost nonexistent shorts and high-heeled sandal things had a lot to do with it. She had a torn T-shirt on, and a cute rabbit’s eyes were staring at me from across her t**s. Damn, a rabbit had never looked so good. Her big blue eyes were already glassy with unshed tears, lips parted in shock, red hair tumbling loose around her shoulders like she’d ripped it free with her hands. She looked like she’d been crying before she ever spilled the drink.

The neck of her T-shirt went down one shoulder and I could see a red bra strap.

Fuck me.

“I didn’t see you,” she kept saying, reaching for napkins, dabbing uselessly at my chest. “I swear I wasn’t trying to—s**t, I ruined your shirt.”

I should’ve been mad. Any other night, I would’ve been. The shirt was expensive. I hated excuses. But all I did was stare at her, my brain short-circuiting.

“It’s fine,” I said, low.

Her eyes snapped up. “No, it’s not, I—let me make it up to you. Please.”

That word, please, came out raw, desperate, like she couldn’t handle one more person being angry with her.

I leaned in a little, resting my forearms on the bar. “Buy me a drink.”

Relief washed over her face so fast it almost hurt to see. “Yes. Yes, okay. What do you want?”

“Whiskey,” I said. “Same as yours.”

She nodded quickly, flagging the bartender with shaky fingers. When the glasses came, she pushed one toward me, her knuckles brushing mine. She flinched.

We drank cup after cup and her shoulders slowly relaxed. She started talking—first about nothing. How crowded it was, how loud, how she usually didn’t even like clubs like this. Her laugh was soft but edged with something I couldn't place.

Then the words started spilling out. She told me about her birthday. About thinking someone loved her when he never really saw her. About flowers that made her itch instead of smile. About sacrifices that went unnoticed.

“I can't believe they did that to me,” she said suddenly. “I have never done anything wrong. I have been caring and....and....”

I didn’t interrupt. I just watched her pour out the anger and the pain, she was probably feeling right not. She was hurting so badly that she began to cry, she swiped at them with the back of her hand like she was embarrassed they’d dared to show up.

I suddenly wanted to kill Dylan and Bella, whoever they were.

Without thinking, I reached out and brushed her cheeks, wiping the tear away before it could fall. She froze, eyes widening.

“Hey,” I murmured. “Easy.”

She sniffed. “This is stupid. I don’t even know you.”

“Good,” I said. “Then I get to be the guy who isn’t him.”

A shaky laugh slipped out of her.

“You know,” I said softly. "you deserve way better taste in men, right?”

She let out a weak breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Wow. Thanks.”

“I’m serious,” I went on. “Anyone who’s allergic to flowers should automatically switch to jewelry. It’s only polite.”

“That seems… expensive.”

“Exactly. Love should be expensive.” I paused, then added, “Thoughtful too.”

She shook her head, staring at the floor. “You really know how to cheer someone up.”

“And if you’re considering murder, though, you’re gonna need a much better alibi.”

That got a real laugh this time. “Murder?”

“I’m just saying. I am very good at hiding bodies.”

That wasn't a joke unfortunately.

She finally looked up at me, eyes brighter now. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “But you smiled so that's a win.”

She laughed harder that time, tears mixing with it, shoulders shaking. f**k. That sound did something to me.

After a while, she went quiet. Just looked at me, eyes dark, searching.

“I’m about to do something crazy,” she said.

I tilted my head. “Yeah?”

She stood up.

Before I could ask another question, she climbed right into my lap, legs bracketing my thighs. The heat of her soaked straight through my jeans. My breath hitched.

Then her lips brushed my throat and she kissed my Adam’s apple.

Fuck.

She jerked away suddenly "I'm so sorry.... it just looked...oh my God..... I'm sorry" then she tried to climb off but my hands came up automatically, gripping her hips and holding her in place. She smelled like whiskey and chocolate. Who the f**k smells like a treat?

"Christ, you’re sweet,” I mumbled, and I dove straight for those lips.

She had some sticky sweet lip gloss on, and I licked it off before pushing inside her mouth. I had barely gotten my tongue inside before she started whimpering and grabbing at my hair. It was like she couldn’t get my face close enough to hers even though she was barely moving her lips. There was something about the way she did it though—the desperation—that made my d**k twitch in anticipation. She needed it, and she was waiting for me to give it to her.

I pulled back just enough to look at her, breathing heavy. My forehead rested against hers.

“Hey,” I said, rough. “You want this?”

Her eyes were blown wide, pupils dark, lips swollen from my mouth. She nodded once,

“Make me forget.”

That did it.

I kissed her again—slower this time, claiming, reassuring, hands sliding up her back as if I could hold her together with sheer will.

"Luca" I said in between the kiss.

"What?"

"That's the name you are going to be moaning out tonight."