My doorbell rings, furrowing my brows, I make my way toward the front door. One glance in the peephole, and I can’t help but smirk.
It’s Brooklyn.
Her hands are twisting in front of her, she looks nervous. I debate answering the door, that strangling feeling takes over again.
Shoving it down, shaking it off, I try to forget the sensation. I need to fuck, that’s what I need to do. I need to bury my cock inside of Brooklyn’s tight cunt.
Wrenching the door open, I wrap my hand around her arm and tug her inside, slamming it closed behind her.
Pressing her back against it, I take her mouth with mine. She places the palms of her hands gently on my chest.
I wrap my fingers around her wrists, lifting them and pinning them above her head to the wooden door.
Brooklyn gasps in surprise. I take that opportunity to fill her mouth with my tongue.
My other hand travels up the inside of her thighs beneath her dress. She whimpers when my fingers graze the center of her panties before I wrench them to the side and fill her with two fingers.
She lifts one of her legs and wraps it around my thigh as she shifts her hips to fuck my fingers.
I let out a groan at her complete inhibition, it’s sexy as fuck. Nibbling on her bottom lip, I kiss down her jaw and neck, my thumb finding her hot, swollen, clit.
“Kitten, I’m going to release your hands. Free me,” I growl against her warm skin.
She shivers, and I squeeze her wrists before I do as I promised and release them from my grasp.
I continue to fuck her with my fingers, my thumb circling and applying pressure to her clit.
She’s fucking ready, so goddamn drenched that her wetness is sliding down my hand and wrist.
Her hands frantically find my jeans, and she slowly tugs my zipper down. It’s tortuously slow, but fuck, she makes me want her that much more.
I grunt when she shoves my jeans past my ass and wraps one of her hands tightly around my cock.
She squeezes and begins to stroke me, her thumb gathering my pre-cum and spreading it around my head.
I pull back slightly, shifting out of her firm grasp, while I remove my hand and my fingers from her pussy.
Pressing the head of my cock against her warm cunt, I grind my teeth together. She feels so fucking good, I could blow right this minute.
The rest of me might not be sold on a committed monogamous relationship, but my cock sure as fuck is right now.
Slowly, I enter her. Lifting the leg that she has wrapped around my waist, I spread her even wider for me.
“Oh, baby,” she exhales.
I swear to fuck, her words go straight to my balls. Moving my other hand to the side of her neck, I trace her full bottom lip with my thumb.
My cock planted inside of her to the root, her eyes on mine, and her sweet scent all around me.
Fuck.
I’m falling for her, and it feels so goddamn right. Too fucking right. That sense of suffocation slithers up my throat again.
I try to fight it, burying my face in her neck, I fuck her against my front door, my hips slamming against hers, and her soft gasps filling my ears.
I know she’s close when she wraps her arms around my back and her sharp fingernails slice into my shoulders.
The bite of pain reminds me that I’m here, she’s here, and this isn’t some kind of death sentence, she isn’t some crazy bitch. She’s good and clean, fucking spectacular.
“Come, kitten,” I demand against her neck before I open my mouth and sink my teeth into her delicate skin.
“Luke,” she cries as her entire body tenses.
Only then, with her pussy clenching around me, do I let myself come deep inside of her tight heat.
“Oh, God,” she sighs.
Lifting my head, I give her a smirk. “Not God, but you can call me a god and I wouldn’t argue.”
She tries to frown, but the satisfied smile is firmly planted on her lips, so instead, she rolls her eyes to the ceiling before bringing her gaze back to me.
“Can I stay tonight?” she asks as her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
I roll my hips so that my pelvis rubs against her sensitive clit, causing her to groan.
I should tell her no.
I should keep my distance from her, she’s interweaving herself too fucking tightly into my life.
“Yeah, kitten. You can stay.”
She smiles at me, and swear to fuck, I feel like a teenager. My heart actually spasms at the sight of her.
Freshly fucked, her face is flush, her hair a wild mess, and that smile of hers—she’s so goddamn beautiful.
Too bad I can’t keep her forever.
Chapter Eighteen
BROOKLYN
Lucas eventually releases me, and I moan at the loss of him from between my legs. There’s just something about the way he fills me.
It’s different from anyone else I’ve ever been with, the way he makes me feel both physically and emotionally.
I feel almost crazy around him, definitely obsessed, and a little over the top in lust.
“You eat tonight?” he asks as he tugs his jeans back over his hips.
I watch as he zips his pants, leaving the top button undone. It’s sexy as sin, just like him.
Licking my lips, I stay with my back leaning against the wall, my body still weak from his rough fucking.
“I didn’t,” I rasp.
He lifts his chin, walking over to the kitchen bar and grabbing his phone off of the counter.
“Go get cleaned up and I’ll order takeout. I don’t have much in the fridge,” he admits.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip, trying to keep from asking the question that has been on the tip of my tongue for weeks.
I fail, miserably, my curiosity knowing no bounds, especially when it comes to him.
“Who buys your groceries?” I ask.
He looks up from his cell, his tongue peeks out, running along his bottom lip. His lips twitch into his infamous cocky smirk, then he speaks.
“Usually my housekeeper. She comes once a week and stocks me up.”
“Usually?” I ask as I shimmy my skirt back down over my ass and thighs.
Lucas’ green eyes darken as he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah, usually.”
“Who else would do it, if it wasn’t her?” I chance asking.
He shakes his head once, his eyes never leaving my own. “You don’t want to know. Go get cleaned up, Italian okay?” he asks.
The inquisitive person inside of me wants to demand that he tell me. The woman that desires self-preservation, she decides not to ask details.
Pressing my lips together, I hold his gaze for another moment, careful not to look away immediately.
He doesn’t even flinch, and I nod once, then turn to make my way toward his bedroom.
Nothing else is said. Making my way to the bathroom, I take a quick shower, washing away his scent from my skin, and the stench of my fear from earlier.
Closing my eyes, I let the hot water soothe my aching body.
Once I’m clean, I go in search of one of Lucas’ shirts. Instead of grabbing a button-down, I find a t-shirt in one of his drawers and slip the soft cotton over my naked body.
I don’t bother with my panties, not wishing to put my dirty ones from the day back on.
All of my clothes are in my trunk, and I have no desire to go back out and get them anytime soon.
I just want to curl up with Lucas in bed, eat Italian and then maybe later feel him inside of me again before I pass out next to his warm body.
Making my way downstairs, I yawn. I’m tired, this day has been so overwhelming and stressful, I’m exhausted.
Stepping into the living room, I turn my head from side to side, looking for Lucas. I hear his voice floating down the hall from the direction of his office.
My feet carry me there, and they speed up when I hear a woman’s voice. I don’t know who could be visiting him, esp
ecially at this late hour.
I peek my head around the doorframe, not sure what I’m going to find, but what I do see causes my stomach to drop.
Lucas’ back is to me. He’s still wearing his perfectly fitted blue jeans and soft cotton t-shirt.
His hair is still messy from fucking me against his front door, but that isn’t what has me frozen in my spot, staring at them like a deer in headlights.
“I thought you said you were free tonight?” a woman breathes, her red painted lips parting slightly.
My eyes look away from her lips and drag down the rest of her body. From what I can see, she’s wearing a dress that’s far too tight, and far too low cut in front.
Her nipples are practically exposed, and I can’t help but notice that Lucas’ head is tilted down, as if he’s enjoying what she has to offer.
He clears his throat and I watch him lift his hand, running his fingers through is messy dark hair. “I was, now I’m not,” he says.
She pouts, it looks as fake as the rest of her, but he must buy it. He lifts his hand and my stomach clenches as he wraps his fingers around her waist.
Those fingers were just inside of me only moments ago and now they’re touching another woman.
The woman must sense my presence, she flicks her eyes to me as she shifts even closer toward Lucas.
I can’t look away from her, I can’t stop my mouth from parting and my heart from squeezing at the same time my stomach rolls.
She hums, her gaze quickly leaving mine and I watch as her hand lifts and cups his cheek.
She rises to her toes and that’s when her mouth grazes his. I narrow my eyes, anger replacing the initial shock of seeing them together.
“Well, this is lovely,” I state.
Lucas slowly turns around, his eyes widening at the sight of me, though why he’s surprised, I don’t know.
The woman doesn’t release her hold on him, and neither does his on her.
“Brooklyn, go back upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute,” he orders, his voice sounding strange and tense.
Crossing my arms beneath my chest, feeling the length of the long shirt I’m wearing rise and almost exposing my pussy, I tilt my head to the side.
“I don’t think that I will,” I point out.
His eyes turn glacial as he narrows them on me. He. Is. Pissed. Which is fine, because I’m livid.
All of this talk about our relationship, about us being committed to one another, it was all bullshit. Complete bullshit.
I want to know why.
I want to know why he’s strung me along when he is obviously not ready or willing to give up his playboy ways.
When he’s obviously told this woman, he was going to be alone tonight, and his hands are all over her practically seconds after he fucked me bare against his front door.
Oh, I’ll have my answers. I’m not leaving until I do.
Lucas closes his eyes slowly with a loud sigh. The asshole doesn’t even have the audacity to look guilty, or sorry.
He just looks annoyed, and that pisses me off more than anything. I stand my ground, waiting for an explanation.
“Why don’t I go in the kitchen and grab some water while you two talk,” the woman offers, giving me a look of pure mock sympathy.
My body fills with rage. If she walks by me, anywhere within arm’s reach, I will not be able to control my actions. I feel completely full of rage.
Lucas shakes his head once, his eyes never leaving mine. He releases her and takes a step back. “You stay here, Brooklyn and I will go in the living room. I’ll be right back,” he offers.
With his back to her, I watch the woman cross her arms and pop her hip out as a victorious smile curves on her pretty face.
She’s pretty too.
She’s about four sizes smaller than me, with large breasts, big cornflower colored eyes, long blonde hair, and bright red painted lips.
She looks like a human version of a Barbie doll.
There is no way I could compete with her, even on my best day, and definitely not right now wearing nothing but Lucas’ t-shirt, my face free of makeup and my hair piled in a messy top knot on top of my head.
Lucas marches toward me, his fingers wrapping around my bicep and before I realize what’s happening, he’s dragging me out of the office and slamming the door behind me.
He doesn’t stop until we’re in the middle of his living room, and only then does he jerk my body around so that we’re face-to-face.
“Why the fuck are you eavesdropping?” he barks.
My head jerks back and I blink once, unbelieving of his accusation. “I wasn’t. I was looking for you, and I found you, wrapped around some slut,” I seethe.
His lips smirk down at me, his green eyes sparkling. “Your claws are showing, kitten,” he practically purrs.
I shake my head. “Don’t do that, don’t make me feel like a fool,” I whisper. “Don’t make this a joke.”
His smirk wavers for just a second before it’s firmly back in place. “You know who I am, you know what I am. I’m not husband and suburb material. I’ll never be the man in a minivan. I’ll never live in a ranch house with a white picket fence. It’s not me, Brooklyn.”
“So, to prove that to me, you are going to, what? Bring another woman in right under my nose? You’re better than that, Lucas.”
“Am I?” he asks.
I shake my head, tears filling my eyes. I refuse to let them fall. I won’t allow it.
Yet, somehow my body doesn’t get my brain’s memo. Those tears immediately fall from my eyes, down my cheeks and onto the soft cotton of his t-shirt that I’m wearing.
LUCAS
She’s staring at me, waiting for me to explain why there is a woman in my office.
Why I had my hand on her waist, why she showed up when she knew that I was supposed to be alone.
Why I’m tempted to fuck her, even though I’m not the least bit interested in her.
My cock wanting her is null and void. My cock wants inside every wet hole available. My heart doesn’t want her, my mind either. I don’t tell Brooklyn that, because I’m a fucking asshole.
I’m not sure if I can stay true to her in the long run, so we might as well end it now while she believes Jamie is here to ride my dick.
Balling my fingers into a fist, I resist the urge to wipe her tears away. It’s better that she has them. It’s better that she hates me.
“Lucas, talk to me,” she demands through trembling lips.
Clearing my throat, I lift one of my hands to run my fingers through my hair, an annoying habit I’ve developed as of late.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I inhale deeply before I re-open them and look into her gorgeous gaze.
“She’s a client,” I explain.
Jamie is, too. But she’s more. I’ve known her for years; this is her second divorce.
Like Brooklyn, she’s younger than I would typically go for. She has shit taste in men, just like Brooklyn.
Jamie and I had a relationship similar to what I have with Brooklyn, except neither of us was committed to one another.
She met her second husband while we were sleeping together, and married him a few hours after leaving my bed.
I never truly cared for Jamie, I still don’t, not the way I do for Brooklyn.
Jamie is also the reason I made it very clear that Brooklyn wouldn’t be fucking anyone else.
Not that I gave a shit that Jamie spread her legs for another man, but honest to fuck, it pissed me off that she ran away from me, ending it before I could.
As fucked up as it sounds, my ego couldn’t take that hit a second time.
“A client,” she breathes.
“A former client and a new client. It’s her second divorce. I can’t tell you any more,” I offer.
Brooklyn takes a step back, shaking her head a few times as her tears continue to fall down her cheeks.
“How does she pay you, Lucas?” she asks, narrowing her gaze on me.
I snort. “They never pay me with sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s saved for after the case is finished, a bit of a celebration,” I smirk, feeling like the fucking asshole that I am.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, my mouth wanting to spill the truth of it all.
I’m fucking terrified that this is bigger than I can control. That the way I feel for her is bigger than me, bigger than us.
It’s goddamn scary and I can’t handle the way we’re spiraling into a dangerous territory—love, monogamy, commitment, and goddamn marriage.
“It’s better this way,” I say.
She narrows her eyes even more, her anger filling up the entire room. I don’t blame her, not at all.
“For who?” she demands.
“Lucas,” Jamie’s voice calls out.
I turn my head to look back at her. She’s staring at me with wide-eyed innocence, but I know her better than that.
Jamie is the female version of myself. There’s a reason she came to me for her divorce.
I’m the man who wrote her post-nup. I’m the man who made sure there were holes to her advantage in the document.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I grind out.
I’m irritated that she showed up here tonight. When she called me and asked me to meet her tonight, I made it clear that I was going to spend the evening alone, that she could schedule an appointment with Peg.
It was not a fucking invitation.
“Why are you being so cruel?” Brooklyn asks as soon as Jamie leaves the room.
My head whips around to look at her again. She’s gorgeous, even in her sadness and anger. I don’t show her the effect she has on me. I’m too fucking stubborn and prideful for that shit.
My mother always said it would be my downfall, my pride. She’ll be the first to say, I told you so, too.
“Go upstairs, I’ll be there in a minute. Let me get Jamie handled, first.”
She shakes her head violently, stumbling backward a few steps. I close the distance between us, wrapping my hand around her waist and pull her against me.
Dipping my chin, I brush my lips along her own.
DISCOVERY (Esquire Black Duet Book 1) Page 20
