“Tell me what’s wrong,” she sighs.
Making my way toward her, I wrap my hand around the back of my neck, wondering if I should tell her anything at all. I decide to tell her a half-truth.
“You got another one of those calls. I don’t want you here alone anymore. You’re staying with me for a while,” I announce.
She eyes me suspiciously but has the good sense not to question me. I continue to watch her move around her space, wondering who the fuck is watching her, and where they’re camped out.
Wondering how they can see us fucking, how they knew I was here and just where they’re watching us from.
Fuck. What in the fucking, fuck?
Chapter Ten
BROOKLYN
I feel something warm against my shoulder, warm and soft. I curl into the covers and let out a moan. That something on my shoulder moves up the side of my neck to the underside of my jaw and then over to my lips.
I open my eyes wide in surprise, expecting him to be lying beside me, but instead, he’s sitting next to me on the bed. His green orbs dance as he watches me silently for a moment.
“Baby,” I breathe, the pet name tumbling from my lips before I can shove it back inside.
His lips tip into his signature smirk. “I’m going on a run, then to workout in my weight room. Make yourself at home,” he offers.
Opening my mouth, I try to gather my thoughts, but before I can say anything, he’s gone. My brain is working too slowly, it’s too damn early in the morning.
Wondering exactly what time it is, I roll over and glance at the bedside clock, suppressing a groan. Six thirty, on a freaking Saturday.
Deciding to try to go back to sleep, I close my eyes. After tossing and turning for about ten more minutes, I give up the feeble attempt.
I can’t stop thinking about last night.
My mind wanders to Lucas, then to the fact that he forced me to pack up and brought me here.
He was so angry when he discovered that my harassing calls hadn’t stopped, but only intensified.
He didn’t have the right to be angry, and I stupidly shouldn’t have slept with him after that sad attempt of an excuse for his silence.
Pressing my lips together, I try not to smile at the fact that he was worried about me, though. It shouldn’t make me feel good, it shouldn’t make me feel anything, but it does.
Forcing myself out of his warm, comfortable bed, I make my way toward the bathroom.
After I’ve taken care of my business, I walk back into the bedroom, finding Lucas’ discarded shirt from the day before.
Slipping on the button-down shirt, I sigh at the feel of the obviously expensive silk fabric.
Once I’ve relished in his exquisite taste, I make my way over to my own bag and fish my laptop out before powering it on.
I need to get my mind off of the stalker and onto happier thoughts.
I find Lucas’ WiFi and attempt to log in. It only takes me two guesses at his password, and I wonder why he’s made such an incredibly easy one for himself—BlackFerrari1.
Men and their toys.
Deciding I need to check my email, I open it to see a message from Lillie that I still haven’t answered.
Guilt plagues me at the fact that I didn’t answer her immediately the last time. I’ve let her message linger for far too long.
I should have answered her, but with everything going on, I knew that she would figure out there was something wrong.
I don’t want her to know I’m in trouble. She has enough on her plate as it is.
I decide to just go ahead and tell her about Lucas, in an email I can keep some things to myself, but in a phone call, she’ll read me immediately.
Maybe a half-truth won’t feel as if I’m lying, or withholding, if it’s in writing.
Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad Boys they make me feel so good….
Brooklyn Myers
To: LillieBelle
Saturday, June 29, 2019
07:05am
Lillie Belle,
I did something probably bad. No, it was definitely bad.
But it felt really good.
I slept with Esquire Asshole. In fact, I’m writing this to you from his bed. I think his sheets are over a thousand-thread count—they’re amazing and so soft. Everything about him is amazing, except his ability to count days and you know, when he doesn’t speak.
I’m catching feelings, Lillie. I know I shouldn’t, but I am. He’s such a jerk sometimes, but I still catch myself falling.
Catch me when I crash and burn, please. I have a feeling this man has the potential to obliterate me.
Brookie
After pressing send, I close my laptop and go about putting it back in my bag. I really should get ready and head out to take a yoga class, or something productive.
But when my stomach makes a loud grumbling noise, I decide against exercise for the time being. Food always wins out, which is why my booty is the size that it is.
Grabbing a pair of my panties from the floor, I shimmy them on underneath Lucas’ shirt and make my way downstairs.
Stepping into his kitchen, it brings back memories from the first time I was in here. I love it, it’s gleaming, bright and gorgeous.
It’s so flawless that the stainless steel doesn’t have even one fingerprint on it.
There’s no way this man doesn’t have a cleaning crew come in here daily. I’ve witnessed him cooking in this space, so I know he’s used it at least once.
I walk over to his fridge and open it, shocked to see that he has not only all of the ingredients for omelets but also enough fruit and even Greek yogurt for a smoothie.
I’m in heaven.
It’s like he knows me, as though he knew I would be here. But then something ugly slithers into my mind.
What if all of this is for another woman. He had no idea that he would be bringing me home last night. He’s a single man, and yet, his fridge is stocked.
Doubt is a bitch. Self-doubt is an even bigger one. Right now, I’m wondering just how much of an asshole Lucas Black really is.
Gathering all of the items I need for omelets and my smoothie, I force those thoughts out of my head.
I litter Lucas’ kitchen counters with almost everything from his fridge, I cringe.
His countertops have probably never been so messy in their existence. I wonder what he’ll think. I hope he doesn’t get irritated with me about the mess.
The front door opens and closes, and I immediately feel his presence fill the room. I don’t acknowledge him as I continue to make the eggs. I hear his footsteps grow closer.
Turning my head to the side, I see Lucas standing at the entrance of the kitchen, his smirk is firmly in place.
Moving my gaze back to the foot in front of me, I finally speak when it’s clear he isn’t going to say anything.
“Hope you don’t mind, I made breakfast,” I murmur.
His smirk disappears, the silence is deafening and my breath hitches as I turn back to look at him again.
His eyes are dancing, they’re practically glittering as he walks toward me.
I hold my breath as one of his hands slips around my waist and his mouth touches the side of my neck.
“Thanks, kitten,” he rasps, his body slick with sweat.
Goosebumps immediately appear over my entire body and I have this insane urge to lick him.
I don’t know why, but I’ve never seen a sweaty man look so sexy in my entire life. I wonder what he tastes like right now?
“Go and sit. It’s just about ready,” I say as I clear my throat.
It takes everything inside of me not to whimper when his tongue snakes out and tastes my neck, doing the exact thing to me as I crave to do to him.
He steps back, turning and walks over to the dinette. I watch him as he goes, his ass sexy as sin in his athletic shorts, his bare muscular back broad and mouthwatering—it’s too freaking much.
I plate the omelet
s before carrying them over to the table. I made toast as well but was afraid to butter it for Lucas, knowing he probably takes it dry.
If he’ll even eat the carbs, I don’t know, I doubt he will.
The way the muscles of his body are defined, I don’t think the man has even smelled a carb in a couple of years.
Turning back, I head toward the kitchen to get my smoothie out of the fridge, when his hand wraps around my wrist and stops my movement.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
Shifting around to look back at him, I smile, informing him of my drink that’s waiting for me in the fridge.
He lifts his chin, releasing me and I hate that I wish he hadn’t. Hurrying, I quickly grab my cold smoothie, then make my way back to the table.
Lucas isn’t eating when I return to the table, and I find it mildly odd. Biting my bottom lip, I look from the food to him then decide to speak.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, pointing to the food as I set my drink down.
“Eat. When you’re finished, I’m fucking you on this table,” he states calmly, almost sounding bored.
His eyes are a little darker than their normal pale green color, and my breath turns ragged from his words.
I watch him, waiting for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. He stays silent. Turning to his food, he starts to shovel it into his mouth.
With wobbly legs, I sit down next to him and try to eat. I attempt to focus on my drink, because it doesn’t require my concentration the way chewing and swallowing do.
His words affect me, to the point that I can’t do a task as simple as eat.
I shift around in my seat, nervous and excited about his announcement.
Pressing my thighs together, I inhale a deep breath. I want that, him fucking me, anywhere—everywhere.
I feel so brazen, it feels illicit, but I’m not sure that I even care—not when it comes to Lucas.
I jump when I feel Lucas’ hand wrap around my knee and he gently squeezes. I turn my head to look at him, but he’s still got his head tipped down to his food and acting as if he isn’t sending me into a tailspin of sensuality and emotions.
“Spread,” he commands, his voice soft and low.
Sucking in a breath, I immediately spread my thighs, my mind not in control of my body. Lucas’ hand slips up the inside of my leg.
I shiver when his fingers gently push my panties to the side and two fingers slide inside of me.
“Lucas,” I whimper as my eyes roll in the back of my head.
Without saying a word, he pumps his fingers in and out of my center with his right hand, acting completely unaffected as he continues to eat his food with his left hand.
I open my mouth to say his name again when his fingers curl inside of me. I let out a long moan instead, placing my palms on either side of my plate as my head drops back.
His fork clatters to his dish, and then without warning, he pulls his fingers out of me.
I let out a small gasp as he shifts, wrapping his hands beneath my armpits, picking me up and spins me around.
I watch in awe as his hands move, he shoves his dishes to the side, they clink as they hit the floor and I hope that they didn’t break.
He shifts my body so that his chest is against my back. I feel his warm breath against the back of my neck and my eyelids flutter closed, enjoying the way it feels, his palm presses against my back.
Gently applying pressure, he pushes me down so that my chest is flat against the cool surface of his table. He wrenches down my panties so that they’re pooled around my ankles.
“Step out,” he grunts.
With hurried movements, I step out of my panties and spread my legs for him. I don’t know what’s come over him, but I’m not about to question it or him, this is hot.
I hear the noise before I feel the sting of his hand hitting my ass.
Gasping, I arch my neck back. Lucas’ hand fists my hair, pushing me down so that my cheek is pressing against the table.
“Stay still, kitten,” he demands.
The sting of his hand slaps down on my other cheek, causing me to tense before he gently massages my flesh.
He repeats the motion five more times on each cheek, moving down to my upper thighs.
My skin tingles, it’s warm and I can’t hold back another moan at the sweet sensations.
On his last slap, I jump, unable to hold myself down, he actually slaps my pussy. I’m panting, and tears stream down my face, but I’m also more turned on than I have been my entire life.
I want him to slap me again—anywhere.
Lucas gently glides his fingers through my wet center with a hum.
“You’re so goddamn wet, Brooklyn,” he murmurs. “Are you going to soak my cock with this wet cunt?”
My belly flips at the naughty question, my clit aching with need. I am going to do exactly what he’s asked.
I just can’t bring myself to talk dirty back to him, but yes, yes, I’m going to soak him.
“You like it when I spank you, don’t you?” he rasps as he continues to slide his fingers up and down my slit.
His fingers never enter me, they drive me crazy with each gentle stroke, except every time he reaches my clit, he swirls and flicks me, driving me completely mad.
“Answer me, or I stop what I’m doing,” he warns.
My teeth sink into my lower lip, and I pinch my eyes closed. “Yes, baby,” I whisper.
It’s all that I can say, it’s as dirty as I can be right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to talk dirty to him, or anyone else, but I love it when he does it to me.
He responds with a growl, then removes his fingers from between my legs. I let out a whimper, missing his touch, as he brings his fingers to my lips.
“Suck, kitten. Be a good girl now,” he gently demands.
Without hesitation, I open my mouth and I suck on his fingers.
Opening my eyes, I catch his gaze and I give him the best show that I can as I lick his fingers clean. His eyes darken, then they dance as he keeps his gaze glued to my own.
I love the way he’s watching me, it’s dark and sexy, I would do anything to keep his sensual gaze on mine.
He shifts behind me, slowly removing his fingers from my mouth, then straightens and I no longer am able to look into his eyes.
“You’re going to take me—and kitten, I don’t want you to make a single sound unless I give you permission. I also don’t want you to come until I tell you to, can you do that for me?” he asks.
Fucking hell, I want to tell him yes. I want to give him everything he desires, because right now I’m on the edge of insanity—on the brink and about to topple over.
Even if I don’t think that I can, for him, I will try.
Unfortunately, for him, I would do a hell of a lot, and I don’t really like myself for that.
“You can do it, kitten,” he reassures me as his lips skim the back of my neck.
My breath hitches when I feel his cock against my pussy, sliding through my wet slit and touching my clit. Then he shifts it back and presses the head against my opening.
I want nothing more than to rear back and take him inside of me, but I refrain, somehow knowing that if I did that, he would be disappointed in me.
Right now, that’s exactly what I don’t want from him. For whatever asinine reason, I want to please him.
LUCAS
Brooklyn’s cunt is so wet and warm against the head of my cock, I swear to Christ, I could come right this instant. I resist, one of my hands fisting in her hair and the other wrapping tightly around her small waist.
I tip my head down and eye my handiwork that’s now covering her ass. Biting my lip, I grin.
Her cheeks are pink from my hand, it’s absolutely stunning, if I touched them, they’d be warm too. I want her to always wear my pink—it looks phenomenal on her pale skin.
She whimpers, but I don’t move, keeping only the head of my cock inside of her. She needs
to learn that she takes what I give and nothing else.
She will learn what I like, she will enjoy it as much as I enjoy giving it to her, too.
I’ve never actually taken the time to teach a woman the things I prefer during sex, always only taking quickly and, to be honest, unsatisfactorily.
This is different though. I’ve known since meeting her that Brooklyn is different.
As we’ve talked, as we’ve grown a bit closer, I’ve discovered that I don’t mind having her around.
I actually want to get to know her more, and possibly allow this to unfold and turn into something, more.
On my run this morning, I did some serious thinking. I want to keep her, and not just for a week or two, I want to keep her for long enough to teach her how I like to fuck and to enjoy the fruits of those lessons.
Sliding inside of her cunt bare last night, was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I’m nowhere near ready to give that up, to give her up, anytime soon.
Also, she doesn’t bug the shit out of me. She’s smart, busy, and focused on her own career.
Basically, she won’t be fucking needy, she’s the perfect person to attempt a semblance of a relationship with.
Gritting my teeth, I bury myself inside of her inch by inch, so slowly that it’s a wonder she doesn’t cry out. I want her to, I want to punish her for it, too.
Glancing at the side of her face, I see her brow is furrowed and her teeth are sinking into her bottom lip so hard that she’s probably tasting blood.
She’s being quiet, though—following directions and not moving.
Good girl.
I’ll reward her, or punish her, or maybe a bit of both.
Once I’m completely buried inside of her, I stay planted, enjoying the way her body stretches to accommodate me.
Her thighs shake beneath me, I grin as her body trembles, as she attempts to hold back.
Slowly, I slide out of her before I thrust back inside. With my head tipped, I watch as her body takes me, my movements methodical and slow.
DISCOVERY (Esquire Black Duet Book 1) Page 11
