The Heart Chaser by Gina Azzi
Abbi
“Pictures,” he repeats, looking confused.
Shit. I mentally berate myself for being so honest. I shouldn’t have told Luca about the photos with Phil.
What if he wants to see them? A sick sense of dread sweeps through me at the possibility. The poses, burned into my retina, flare to life in my mind. I’m dressed sexy as hell, in the most provocative positions I’ve ever ventured into. I’m a little bit drunk, a lot breathless, and thirsty as fuck. It shows in the images, adding to my mortification.
Will Luca be disgusted? Or worse, will he see them and know how pathetic I am? How needy I was, how much I prayed that someday, a man would want me back?
I chew the corner of my mouth, waiting for him to connect the dots. I’m staring right at his face so I can witness, up close and personal, as his confusion gives way to understanding which morphs into fury.
“What kind of fucking pictures?” he snaps.
I roll my lips together and widen my eyes, hoping my non-verbal answer will suffice.
“Fuck.” He grips the back of his neck, turning his face away for a moment.
My insides twist, knotting together until nausea rolls through my stomach.
“What a fucking piece of shit.” Luca’s face snaps back toward mine. “How could he do that to you? What’s his last name? Phil what?”
My mouth pops open and I stare at him.
“Tell me,” he demands, the veins in his forearm popping as he leans even lower.
“You’re not mad?” I ask.
He frowns. “Of course, I’m mad. I’m fucking furious that some guy would expose you like that. Put you in this position. Take something personal, private and—what?”
I sputter. “I mean, you’re not mad at me?”
Understanding followed by compassion douses his expression as he shakes his head. He drops my hand and pulls me into a hug. He’s half in, half out of the car and I think about how ridiculous we must look to anyone passing by.
But Luca keeps his arms wrapped around me and the longer he holds me, the more I relax into his embrace. That he cares about me more than the possibility that the pictures may leak and circulate among his team, is very telling of the kind of man he is. Tears rush forward as I breathe him in, hope swelling in my chest.
I was prepared for his anger. For an outburst of hurtful words and his rejection. Instead, Luca shows me understanding, empathy, and love. And it guts me.
“I could never be mad at you, Abbi,” he says soothingly. His words wash over me like a salve, dulling past hurts and making my skin tingle.
I bury my face into the crook of his neck and breathe him in. His body is warm, even after standing in the cold, and I press myself against him, more than comforted by his presence. Right now, I need him and he’s here for me in a way that no man has been before.
He blows out a sigh and pulls away, giving me a searching look. “Is he why you lost your job?”
I nod, my chin quivering.
Luca swears again and grips my chin. His thumb draws a line down the center of my chin before swiping along my jaw. He shakes his head, his voice lower, rougher. “You still haven’t told me his last name.”
“Rickens.”
He blanches. “Phil Rickens?”
“Heard of him?”
“He’s a fucking tool. I met him once and…damn, Abbi.”
I shrug, averting my gaze, even though my throat tightens.
“No.” Luca lifts my face again. “Don’t pull away from me. If we’re really going to do this”—he signals between us—“then we can’t hide from each other. I don’t know a lot about relationships, Abbi, but I’ve been on the periphery of enough to know that this, the beginning, is the easiest. Things will only get harder from here on out.”
A chuckle drops from my mouth, surprising us both. I tip my head back farther. “Well, that’s a relief to hear.”
Luca smiles, running the pad of his thumb down the center of my chin again before releasing it. “Nothing we can’t handle, baby.”
“I want your confidence.”
“You’ve got confidence in spades.”
“Then, I want your certainty. Your belief in…the future.”
The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. “Future’s all hopeful, babe.”
I nod slowly, plucking his words out of the air like wishes and tucking them safely away for future study.
He dips his head and kisses me, his tongue slipping into my mouth. His kiss is more insistent than safe, probing instead of pacifying. “Let me take you home now, Abbi.”
“You don’t want to hang with the team?” I pull back, surprised.
“I want to hang with my girl.”
“We can swing by Taps first.”
“No way,” Luca growls. “I need to get you home and erase any fucking memory of Phil fucking Rickens.”
I toss my head back and laugh as Luca grins at me. “I’m serious,” he says.
“Take me home then, Luca.”
He leans into the car again to pull my seat belt across my chest. Then, he closes the door and jogs around to the driver’s side, sliding inside and turning on the ignition.
He looks over at me, all bedroom eyes and a strong jaw. “He won’t hurt you again. No one will.”
I offer him a soft smile, even though I know better than to believe such promises. Still, his words fill me with longing. A yearning that beats in my chest and extends behind my ribs, dropping lower until I squeeze my thighs together. The resolve in Luca’s tone is too strong, too honest, to oppose. And right now, I don’t want to think about reality. I just want to be here with him. In this moment.
I reach over the center console and wrap my hand around his forearm. “Take me home now, Luca.”
He puts the car in drive.
* * *
Luca’s eyesblaze as he settles over me. My breath hitches as I stare into his eyes, two bottomless pools of blue.
Little warning bells clang in my head. This is still new. Remember what happened over the summer?
But my guard has already come down. How could it not?
Luca’s hand sweeps up my side, feathering over the Hawks logo on the front of my jersey. I’m stretched out in the center of his bed, my jeans already in a pile on the floor.
He lost his shirt the second we crossed the threshold into his room and his jeans, worn and ripped, hang low on his hips, the button already popped for easy access.
“Love seeing you in my number, Abs,” he mutters, dropping his head. His lips find the side of my neck as his hand snakes underneath my jersey until he palms my breast.
I turn my head, our noses grazing. For one long beat, our eyes hold. Then I tip my chin and he drops his face and our lips meet, molding together in an instant. I roll onto my side, Luca’s fingers brushing over my bra-covered nipple. He touches me slowly, exploring my skin, while his mouth spills desires into mine.
He pulls back, rolling the jersey up and over my head, leaving it splayed against the pillows at the head of his bed. His gaze scans my body, his breathing kicks up a notch as the tip of his tongue slips through his lips. One of his hands locks around both of my wrists, keeping my arms up over my head.
Rocking a black lace bra and matching thong, I love how Luca’s eyes flare with heat. His eyes drink me in like they’ll never get their fill and I revel under his attention.
“You’re so sexy, Abbi,” he breathes out, swallowing thickly. His eyes hold mine. “So fucking sexy,” he repeats, dropping his mouth again.
I shift beneath him, helping him settle in between my thighs as I arch into his touch. He keeps kissing me as he expertly removes his jeans and I giggle into his mouth.
When he pauses to meet my eyes, I jut my chin down his frame.
“Done this before, huh?” I wrinkle my nose.
He grins and shakes his head. “It’s never meant this much.”
Swoon. I die. How the hell does this man manage to undo me with words?
But his words make my heart race and my mind quiet and my body quiver with need for…more of him.
I wrap my arms around his back, loving how the muscles in his shoulders roll under my touch. I hitch myself closer to him, deepening our kiss until he moans. My hands track the planes of his back, lower until I can slip my fingers under the waistband of his boxer briefs and help him work those off.
He springs free, hard against my upper thigh, and heat floods me. I crave Luca Pandatelli in a way I never desired a man before. It’s because of his words, his heart, him.
I kiss him harder as he flicks open my bra and tugs my thong to the side. His fingers sweep over my core, and he groans again.
“Jesus, you’re perfect. So fucking wet,” he says, his voice guttural.
I watch as he sucks off my sweetness, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head.
“Look at me,” he commands and I force my eyes open. “Watch.”
I do as he says, my breathing turning ragged as he drags the head of his cock through my folds. My desire glistens off of him and I couldn’t tear my eyes away if I tried.
I watch with rapt attention as he enters me, moving at a deliciously slow pace that I feel throughout my body like a livewire.
“Fuck,” he moans.
“Don’t stop,” I say, clenching around him.
His hand settles at the base of my throat, his thumb swiping over my clavicle. “Never.”
He kisses me hard and my eyes close. I sink into the sensations coursing through my body, losing myself to this moment, this man.
“More,” I murmur.
He increases the pace, his mouth moving over mine with urgency, his body pressing into mine with an edge. We come together hard and fast, both of us shattering at the same moment.
But instead of turning away, Luca continues to kiss me. His tongue laps against mine, his urgency slows into a sweetness. His touch is featherlight as it rolls over my skin.
I keep my legs wrapped around his lower back, erasing any space between us.
We barely have time to recover from round one before round two heats up. This time, it’s slow and languid. This time he makes love to me, savoring my sounds and swallowing my kisses.
“I’m all in with you, Abbi,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue down the shell of my ear.
I gasp as he enters me again, so slowly my thighs tremble for the sweetest release that only he can provide.
“Luca, please.”
“Please what, sweet baby?” he teases, peppering my throat with kisses.
“Need you.”
He slides in all the way and I grip his shoulders.
“Want you,” he replies.
“I’m yours, Luca,” I tell him the truth.
A ghost of a smile flickers over his lips as he gazes down at me. Then, he rolls us until I’m straddling his hips and he’s looking up at me, his eyes hooded. “Show me.”
I smile, lifting up an inch at a time before plunging back down on him.
He swears, his hands gripping my hips.
“You’re going to kill me, Abbi.”
I smirk, brace my palms on his chest, and lean forward to kiss him hard. “I’m going to make you come undone,” I promise him.
He groans but his eyes heat. “Do it,” he nearly begs.
So, I do. Twice.