Black Kat (15 page)

Chapter Nineteen

“Mother fucker!”
Natasha swore when she stubbed her toe on the leg of the coffee table.  She rarely swore, and when she did it was more along the lines of
damn
.  But lately she’d been dropping the f-bomb left and right.  It seemed that a certain brooding asshole brought out the best in her.

Her cat, Mr. Sprinkles, looked up from his perch on the windowsill and swung his tail back and forth once.  His expression was one of annoyance that his evening nap had been interrupted, rather than concern for his owner’s well being.

“I’m okay.  Thanks for asking,” Natasha said to the cat.  “I’m just fine.  Perfectly fine.”

Limping into the kitchen, she pulled two more Oreos out of the package.  She felt less guilty eating two at a time even though she’d already gone through half the package.  Flopping back on the couch she stuffed a whole Oreo into her mouth and flipped through the channels.

Both of her roommates were out tonight, probably having romantic dates followed by lots of hot sex.  Not for the first time in the last eight days, it crossed Natasha’s mind to get dressed up and go out.  It couldn’t be that hard to find a guy who would have sex with her.  Even if Luke didn’t want to…

With a scream of frustration, Natasha threw the remote across the room where it hit the wall next to the TV and skidded into the hallway.  What the fuck was his problem?  She wasn’t hideous.  She was willing.  And she knew f
or a fact he wasn’t that picky about whom he took to bed.

All this time she’d been saving herself for someone special - scratch that - she’d been saving herself for Luke even if she hadn’t admitted it until now.  If he wasn’t interested, what was the point in being discriminating?

Natasha reached for her phone to call her brother.  Not that she would ever in a million years tell him what she was so upset about.  He would probably put a bullet in Luke’s head just for touching her.  But it always helped to talk to him.  She had only vague memories of their parents, and Alexander had been the one to raise her.

As she pulled up his number, she remembered he had texted earlier that he had an appointment tonight. 
Awesome.  Natasha looked around her posh empty apartment and barely heard the sounds of the TV in the background.

“Come on, Mr. Sprinkles, pack your bags, we’re going to Alexander’s.”

Mr. Sprinkles opened one eye to judge her seriousness.  When Natasha rose from the sofa and headed toward her bedroom, Mr. Sprinkles jumped down and followed.

The penthouse was where she had grown up when she wasn’t off at boarding school.  It was her home, and Alexander kept her room for her exactly as it always had been.  At least she could get a good night’s sleep there and she could talk to him at breakfast.

Across town, Luke was in a similarly foul mood.  He was off the clock tonight with Alexander out on a date with Kat.  Granted where they were going could hardly be called a date, but that was the official answer should anyone need to speak with Alexander.

His suite on the employee floor just below Alexander’s penthouse was large, but tonight the walls felt as if they were closing in on him.  Any other night he would have gone down to the sports bar to catch a game and have a drink, or if he was in the mood for something else, he would have gone in search of female companionship.  But tonight he wasn’t in the mood for company, female or otherwise.

Leaving his room, he didn’t have a destination in mind other than he needed to go somewhere else.  On his way to the elevator, he paused at Larissa’s door.  He rapped his knuckles softly, so as not to disturb her if she was sleeping.  Since helping her out before, Luke felt as though he should keep watch over her.  And she was doing well.  In the next week or so she would be starting work down in the poker room at The Onyx
; the hotel room being one of the perks Alexander offered some of his more valued employees.

There was no answer, so Luke moved on toward the elevator.  When the doors opened, he looked at the number panel and after a moment punched the button for the penthouse and entered the security code.

Alexander was out for the evening, and even if he wasn’t, Luke was always welcome in Alexander’s personal space.  The doors opened and the vast space beyond was welcoming to Luke.  In many ways this felt like home to him.

He went straight to the bar on the far side of the living room and poured a double shot of Jack Daniels.  Tossing it back he didn’t flinch as the alcohol burned its way to his stomach.  Luke poured another
double and tossed it back with the same ease as the first.  Giving up on the civility of a glass, he grabbed the bottle and took it with him as he wandered to stand before the wall of windows.

The city lights were alive with energy, and he had a great view of the Bellagio fountains.  How was it possible to feel so alone in a city full of people?  T
hat was the question, wasn’t it?  All his life he’d been alone.  Growing up on the streets until Alexander had taken him under his wing and become the only family he’d ever known.  That’s what made his feelings for Natasha that much harder to bear.  He felt like wanting Natasha was a betrayal of his friendship with Alexander.  As his best friend, Luke was supposed to protect Alexander and his interests.  But getting involved with Natasha would be doing the exact opposite.  Luke wasn’t good enough for her.  Bottom line.  Although hell if he could think of anyone who would be.

Jack was doing his job, making Luke’s brain fuzzy and his steps slightly unsteady as he made his way down the hallway to the left.  With one hand on the wall and the other firmly around the neck of the bottle, Luke weaved toward the one room in the penthouse he had never been.

Grasping the doorknob, he turned it and pushed the door open.  With the drapes pulled open, the lights from outside illuminated the room enough that he didn’t need to turn on the lights.  And that was good, because turning on the lights would make what he was doing a reality.  In the semi-darkness he could wander around like a shadow.

This room was on the opposite end of the spectrum from the rest of the penthouse with regards to decorating.  Whereas everything that was Alexander’s was sleek and modern, this room reflected the style of its owner just as well. 
Warm, inviting, irresistible.  Luke was drawn farther into the room as sure as if Natasha were here guiding him.  He lingered at the framed photos that lined one wall.  Photos of Natasha - with Alexander, with her friends, with that damn cat of hers.  Luke closed his eyes as he imagined what it would be like to be in one of those photos.  His arms around Natasha, her eyes alive as she smiled up at him.

“Fuck!”  With a curse, Luke stumbled backward.  That kind of thinking would only lead to more heartache.  When the backs of his legs hit the bed, he sunk down, elbows on his knees, his head resting in one hand while the other swung the bottle of Jack between his legs.

Trying to regain some sense, Luke inhaled a deep breath, which was a huge mistake.  The scent of Natasha’s perfume invaded his nose, sending a barrage of memories flashing through his mind.  Most involving that night of her birthday, with her legs on either side of his, her lips surrendering to his…

Christ, even with the sheer
amount of alcohol he had consumed in the last hour, his cock hardened behind the fly of his jeans.  Luke reached down to adjust himself and hissed out a breath at the contact.  But it was all wrong, he thought, as he removed his hand.  His hand was rough and callused from years of hard work.  Natasha’s would be soft and delicate.  Oh, God… the thought of her touching him…

A sound in the hallway had him opening his eyes.  Blinking, he wondered if the depths of his desire had conjured up a hallucination of Natasha standing before him in the doorway to her room.

Shifting her bag higher on her shoulder, Natasha wondered if she was seeing what she thought she was seeing.  Why was Luke sitting on her bed?  And why was he looking at her
like that?  Like he wanted to…

His eyes were locked on hers and he was blinking fast, like he too was trying to make sense of what he was seeing.  Luke’s gaze ran slowly down her body, and that’s when Natasha noticed the half empty bottle of Jack dangling from his fingertips.

Great.  He was probably so drunk, he didn’t even realize it was her he was looking at.  Natasha dropped her bag on the floor and reached for the light switch.  Halfway there, her hand froze when Luke breathed, “
Natasha.”

Without looking away from her, Luke set the bottle on the floor and stood up.  Wearing flip flops, Natasha was a good foot shorter than Luke, and she felt the full height difference as he walked up to her.  Stopping just in front of her, he was breathing heavily as he reached out and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair curling below her shoulders.

Natasha could smell the alcohol on his breath, as if the glaze over his eyes wasn’t enough to tell her he was shit-faced.  But for the life of her she couldn’t break the spell he had over her.  Especially when he was so close, so close she could put her hands on his strong chest.

The contact of her hands on him seemed to snap him out of whatever daze he was in.  Blinking again, Luke eyes struggled to focus on her face.  “Natasha?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Luke closed his eyes and shook his head.  Taking a step back, he ran both hands roughly over his face.

“I’m sorry, I...”

Natasha waited for some kind of good explanation as to why he had been sitting on her bed and then looked at her like he wanted to devour her before once again turning her away.  When that explanation didn’t come, Natasha picked up her bag and flipped on the light switch.

“Jesus Christ!” Luke shouted, covering his eyes with his hands.

Natasha shoulder checked him on her way past, even though it didn’t budge him an inch.

“What are you doing here, Luke?” she demanded, hands on hips.

Luke turned around slowly as if any sudden movements would send him to the floor.  And that’s when Natasha got a good look at the bulge behind his fly.

“You fucking asshole!” she screamed, picking up the first thing she could find - another remote - and flung it at his head.

Luke wasn’t so far gone he couldn’t duck, and the remote missed him, marking up yet another wall.

“Natasha!  Wait…I…God, I’m sorry.”

“For what?
  You’re sorry for what?”  Natasha stalked across the room, facing off with all 6 feet two inches of hard muscle.  “You’re sorry for getting my hopes up yet again?  You’re sorry for making me think for a second that I’m desirable and worth your time?  I can tell you’re…aroused…but you can’t bring yourself to even touch me…”  Natasha whirled around, throwing her hands up in the air.  “Just leave me alone, Luke,” she said in a monotone voice.

“What?!”

Natasha felt Luke come up behind her, but she refused to turn around.  There was only so much humiliation one person could take.

“Natasha.”  There was so much emotion in Luke’s voice that she almost gave in and turned around.

But she didn’t have to, because Luke stepped around her and dropped to his knees, pressing his face against her stomach.  Natasha froze.

“That’s not…that’s not why.”  Luke’s voice was gruff and muffled against her shirt.  “Don’t ever think that. 
Natasha
.”

Natasha’s hands lingered over his head for a second before she cupped the back of his head.  There was such pain in his voice, and she hadn’t the slightest idea why.  It was probably the alcohol talking, but still she couldn’t deny him this small bit of comfort.

“Luke, it’s okay.”

He shook his head back and forth against her.  “No.  No.  I don’t deserve you.  I don’t deserve you.”

What?

Pulling at his arms wound tight around her waist, Natasha loosened his hold so she could kneel as well and put her hands on either side of his face.  But Luke scrambled back like she had burned him.  He was shaking his head as he got unsteadily to his feet.

As Luke backed out of her bedroom, leaving Natasha sitting on the floor, he muttered, “I can’t.  I’m sorry, Natasha.  I can’t.”

And then he was gone.  Natasha heard the sounds of Luke bumping into furniture as he practically ran to the elevator.  A moment later the elevator doors closed, signaling he was gone.  Natasha sat on the floor where Luke had left her for a long time trying to make sense of what had just happe
ned.  In the end she couldn’t.

I don’t deserve you.  I don’t deserve you.

What the hell did he mean by that?  He had shown more emotion in those few minutes than she had ever seen from him before.  What did it mean?

Natasha was still rolling
these question over and over in her mind long after she got into bed.  She was still awake when she heard Alexander come home and check in on her.  It wasn’t until close to dawn that she finally drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by voices in the kitchen.  And one of those voices was the one that had played in her head all night long.

I can’t.  I’m sorry Natasha.  I can’t.

The only thing she was sure of was the way he had held onto her, his arms anchored around her waist, his face buried against her stomach.  That wasn’t something you did if you had no feelings for someone.  And the genuine agony she heard in his voice.  He may be conflicted in his feelings, but Natasha wasn’t.  She just wondered how much she could put up with waiting for him to figure it out.