CHAPTER 28

JUST THE THOUGHT OF LOSING YOU AGAIN...

The door slammed harder than Abigail had expected. The echo hadn’t died down before she heard the sharp clip of footsteps fast, deliberate, angry.

Luke.

He emerged from the hallway like a dark storm cloud, his tie loosened, jaw clenched, sleeves still rolled up from work. The look in his eyes stopped her breath cold.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Abigail froze. She hadn't expected to return to this kind of fire. “I just stepped out for lunch”

“With no guards. No word. No text,” he snapped, voice low and tight, vibrating with restraint. “I came back and you were just gone, Abigail.”

She tried to stay calm, but her voice faltered. “I told the housekeeper. I needed some space”

“Space?” he repeated with a bitter laugh, stepping closer. “Abigail, you don’t get to disappear anymore. Not after everything. Not after nearly dying.”

She took a breath. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, wasn’t it?” His tone had sharp edges now. “You ran off like none of it mattered. Like I don’t matter.”

That made her flinch. “Don’t twist this.”

His jaw ticked. “Then explain it. Go ahead. Why did you leave without telling me?”

“I needed to breathe, Luke!” she snapped finally. “You’ve locked me inside this place like a porcelain doll and I’m not made of glass!”

Something shifted in his face. The fire in his eyes dimmed for a second, replaced by something else, hurt.

“You think that’s what I’m doing? Locking you away?”

Abigail folded her arms across her chest. “What else is it? You control everything. Who I talk to, when I go out, what I wear sometimes. I just wanted to remember who I was before all this madness.”

He took a slow breath, then stepped forward closer than before.

“And who were you with?”

The question sliced through the air.

She looked up at him. “Maya. My best friend.”

His expression didn’t shift, but something under the surface moved tightened.

“She just came back. I needed to see her.”

Luke stared at her like he was searching for a lie. But she didn’t offer one. She stood there, vulnerable, steady, defiant in her own quiet way.

He exhaled through his nose. “You should’ve told me.”

“And you should’ve trusted me,” she whispered.

Silence.

Heavy. Heated.

The air between them stretched like a wire pulled too tight. And then like something invisible snapped Luke moved.

His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist, pulling her forward. Not harshly, not to hurt her but with a kind of desperation he hadn’t shown before.

“I can’t lose you, Abigail,” he said, voice hoarse.

The confession cracked through her defenses. Her heart thudded loud in her chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

“You say that…” His hand cupped her jaw now, thumb brushing her cheek. “But you don’t understand what it does to me when I don’t know where you are.”

She leaned into the warmth of his touch without thinking. “Then show me. Don’t control me. Talk to me.”

He didn’t answer. Not with words.

Luke kissed her hard, sudden, demanding. His mouth found hers with a kind of hunger that was rooted in fear, frustration, and longing. Abigail gasped, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. Her body answered his before her mind caught up. Before she could think of anything else, she felt his hand fondling her left breast.

They stumbled backwards into the hallway wall, his hands already tugging her blouse free from her jeans, his lips trailing down her neck as she tilted her head to give him room. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath, the ripple of muscle.

“Luke…” she whispered, not as a warning but as a surrender.

Abigail... He groaned her name against her skin like it grounded him.

“Bedroom,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to lift her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her through the hall, lips never straying far from hers, like he couldn’t get close enough.

They didn’t make it to the bed right away.

He set her down against the doorframe, his hands roaming, exploring. Her shirt hit the floor. His followed. She watched his eyes darken as they trailed down her skin, his breath catching at the sight of her in just lace and softness. She watched as he lowered his mouth to her chest and making use of his tongue caressed her nipple sucking on it, which quickly spread more pleasure into her.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, like the words hurt.

Abigail reached for him, fingers undoing his belt, pushing the fabric aside until he groaned low in his throat. The sound lit something inside her a craving, a need that spread like wildfire.

When he finally laid her down on the bed, it wasn’t with gentleness. It was need. Pure, unfiltered need.

Their mouths found each other again, tongues tangling, breaths short and uneven. His hand slid between her thighs, fingers teasing her through the fabric, and she arched beneath him, a moan escaping her lips.

“Tell me you want this,” he breathed against her collarbone.

“I do,” she gasped. “I want you.”

That was all it took.

He peeled the last layers off her body like unwrapping something sacred. When he slid inside her, slow and deep, she gasped every nerve lit, every part of her filled. Luke moved with deliberate rhythm at first, like he wanted to memorize every sound she made, every way her body responded.

Abigail clung to him, her hands sliding across his back, nails digging in when the waves of pleasure crested higher.

“Look at me,” he said thickly, his forehead pressed to hers. “I need to see you.”

Her eyes fluttered open and met his. What she saw in them stole her breath.

This wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t just sex. This was everything Luke didn’t know how to say. This was love, raw and unpolished, burning through every touch.

Their pace quickened, the heat rising like a tide. Abigail’s back arched, her voice breaking on his name. Luke held her tighter, kissed her harder, chasing that edge with her.

When they finally tumbled over it together, it was not quiet. It was fire and thunder and breathless, beautiful chaos.

Afterward, they lay tangled together in the quiet room, her head on his chest, their skin slick with sweat, their hearts pounding in sync.

Neither of them spoke for a while. The silence didn’t feel heavy this time. It felt full.

Abigail traced lazy circles on his chest. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just… needed to feel normal for a minute.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice low and tired. “I just… the thought of losing you again”

“You’re not going to,” she said firmly. Although she wasn't sure what he would act like next.

Luke sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Next time, just let me know where you are. That’s all I ask.”

“Okay.”

They lay there a little longer, the storm between them finally passing.