by Lulu Pratt
My fingers tangle in her thick tresses as I finally wrench my lips away from her mouth. Breathing raggedly, I peer into those coffee-colored eyes before stepping around her to clear the clutter around the edge of her desk.
Lilah looks on stunned as some of her papers and office supplies fall to the floor, but I don’t have time to waste with apologies.
Grasping her hips, I easily lift her and sit her on the edge of the desk.
“Did he touch you?”
Confusion clouds her eyes as she looks up at me.
“What? Who?” She asks genuinely perplexed.
“The shithead who brought you here,” I clarify, not wanting to say his name.
Fuck him.
“No,” she shakes her head vigorously. “He didn’t touch me.”
Her voice has taken on an airy quality as she anticipates my next move. I will never get over how responsive she is.
My cock is aching in agony, feeling deprived.
Without warning, I begin shoving at the material of her skirt. It only reaches a few inches above her knee so it isn’t hard to move out of my way.
“The door,” Lilah whispers trying to still my roving hands. “Someone could walk in here.”
Ripping the satiny material of her pantyhose, I make it clear that I don’t give a fuck about getting caught. All I care about is being buried deep inside of her. Sooner rather than later.
Lilah’s eyes have lost all their shock and are now dancing rampant with untamed desire.
“Stand,” I say roughly.
When she obeys me, I give her a searing kiss before swiftly turning her around. Her only option is to hold onto the desk as I bend her over the wooden surface.
The skyscraper heels she has on tilt her ass in the air perfectly, lifting it to just the right angle to receive what I have in mind.
Breathing harshly, I continue tearing the panty hose until her black lace panties are completely exposed. Shoving the material aside, I find her wet and ready for me.
My cock rages harder in my pants, desperate for relief.
The fingers of my left hand work diligently to undo my pants as the fingers of my right hand continue stroking at her damp opening.
She’s fucking soaked.
With my pants pooled around my feet, I grip my cock and smack it firmly against her plump ass.
“Look at how hard you make me,” I groan hoarsely, rubbing the length up and over the material still covering her round derriere.
Desperately, Lilah reaches back behind her to steer me to her needy center. But there’s still more fun to be had.
Pre-cum is dripping from the tip of my shaft onto the black lace and I growl low in my throat at the hypnotizing sight before me.
“Andrew, please. Don’t torture me.”
Her words pierce my resolve and have me palming her ass cheeks to spread her to my liking. With her slick center exposed, I fall into her warmth in one smooth thrust.
Fingers digging into her supple flesh, I set a nice pace as I pound into her snug walls reacquainting myself with her beautiful physique. A blazing hot shiver travels up my spine when Lilah cries out to me.
“What are you doing to me?” She whines writhing beneath my body as she grasps for something to stabilize her.
After giving her ass another firm smack, I reach up and gather a handful of her thick strands in my palm. Her back arches beautifully when I give the first tug.
She’s perfect and she feels so damn good.
Her pussy is constricting all around me, making it harder and harder for me to move in and out freely. She’s holding me hostage and I don’t think I could care any less about becoming her prisoner.
“Tell me you missed me, Lilah,” I growl, bending over to speak into her ear.
When she only nods jerkily, I smirk and pick up my pace. I’m a fanatic as I rock into her tight tunnel fervently. My belt buckle jingles each time I shift my stance in an attempt to go deeper.
The sensations coursing through me are leading to some dangerous thoughts.
She feels better than I remember and I want to stay buried to the hilt inside of her forever.
Suddenly, Lilah cries out brokenly, her hips jerking backward as her walls clamp down around me viciously. It’s impossible to move as the flood of her juices coats my dick.
She comes so hard and screams so loud that she nearly loses her voice in the process. I’m surprised that no one comes running to check on her.
When I feel her relaxing around me, I resume my fevered movements. It doesn’t take long for me to catch up with her and surrender to the pleasurable waves washing over me.
Releasing her hair, I pry my cock from her folds just in time to shower my hot cum all over her ass. I want her covered in my seed so that even in my absence there’s no question of exactly who she belongs to.
Jerking my engorged dick, I don’t stop until I know that I’ve marked her with every last drop. My arousal drips down her thick thighs right before my eyes, and I swear to God I’m hard all over again.
Shit.
What the hell am I going to do with her?
Twenty-five
LILAH
Andrew departs shortly after signing some paperwork and promising to return later to pick me up. Kissing me hard on the lips, he leaves me there in my office.
It takes me a good half hour to get myself together after that encounter. I’d never been a fan of quickies in the past, but damn it I’m sold now.
But only if they’re always that explosive. And only if they’re always with Andrew.
The friction created while he slammed in and out of me…
My goodness.
My panties and stockings are irreparably ruined in the aftermath and I barely blink an eye when I see the damage. Because the evidence of his completion is all over both items, I flush at the memory of being owned by him just moments before.
The rest of the day is full of monotonous tasks and boring email exchanges with Edward about Andrew. He’s thrilled when I send over the forms that were signed this morning.
“Great work, Ms. Tucker. I’ll send over some documents that you can peruse at your leisure for the rest of the day.”
More busy work.
I want to prove myself by working with more clients.
“Are you sure I couldn’t be useful to you in any other ways? I’m more than happy to contact some potential clients if you’d like.” My voice is just the right mix of sweet and professional.
I need for him to take me seriously.
Edward doesn’t miss a beat and shuts me down right away.
“No, that’ll be all. Enjoy the rest of your day. Please monitor your email for any urgent correspondence from me.”
Then the line clicks and I’m left staring at the phone openmouthed.
Well, he did tell me to enjoy my day.
That’s definitely a step in the right direction for him, considering his usually icy demeanor.
Maybe he’s warming up to me.
***
At five o’clock on the dot, I’m waltzing out of Castle and heading for the parking lot.
“Have a good night, dear,” Louisa tells me with a secret smile as I push open the door.
What’s she smiling about? Oh, God. Had she heard me screaming like a banshee earlier?
Heat rises up my neck as I remember just how loud I was.
“Night,” I sputter before walking out.
Andrew is just stepping out of his antique muscle car and gives me a panty-dropping smile when he sees me.
Although, I’m reminded that I’m not wearing any panties. Still, it’d be a panty-dropping situation if I had some on.
When I’m just a few steps away, he reaches out to me and pulls me flush against his chest.
“Hi Cupcake,” he murmurs against my lips. The kiss is hard and full of hunger. He nibbles and pulls at my lips as if he hasn’t seen me in months, when in reality it’s only been a few hours.
As he pulls his
lips away from mine, I reach up and touch my kiss-roughened lips.
“Hi yourself,” I say, drawing in a very deep breath.
Andrew opens the door for me and walks back over to his side of the car. I watch his easy yet purposeful gait, admiring the way his shoulders shift in time with his powerful strides.
The man could be a walking billboard for sex. It makes no sense for one man to possess so much raw, masculine energy.
It really isn’t fair.
Andrew pulls into traffic and maneuvers the rumbling car expertly through the congestion littering the streets. Everything he does makes me aware of just how capable he is. In all things.
A strong pulse starts between my legs and I bite down hard on my lip. Folding my legs, my eyes land on each of the buildings we pass as I try to occupy my mind with thoughts that don’t revolve around jumping the bones of the man beside me.
“How was your day?” Andrew asks, his deep voice breaking into my thoughts.
Dragging my eyes away from the window, I give him an easy smile.
“Started out kind of rocky,” I share as my mind wanders back to my discovery in the parking lot this morning. “But things are looking up.”
Nodding, Andrew turns a corner and accelerates as the road opens before him.
“What about you?” I quiz. “How was your meeting earlier?”
When he left me panting over my desk this morning, he told me he was headed to an important business meeting regarding his art. I don’t remember the exact details considering how scatterbrained I had been at the moment.
“Productive,” he states lowly. “Thanks for asking.”
His voice holds a note of reverence as he speaks, like he’s not used to people asking about his day. And I wonder if that’s true.
The thought makes me frown.
“Where are we going?” I ask, needing to redirect my thoughts to happier pastures.
The city is falling away from us the further he drives and my interest is piqued.
“I’m taking you on a real date,” he tells me with a lazy grin.
My face is inquisitive when I turn to look at him full on. He can read the questions on my face because he drops a small hint.
“I hope you like seafood.”
***
I should have known that a typical seafood restaurant wasn’t in our future. No, we’re sitting on a yacht in the middle of the Greenwich Harbor, enjoying a spread specially prepared by a chef friend of Andrew’s named Marco.
The sun has just started its evening descent and the reflection splayed across the water is breathtaking as I look at it from the deck of the yacht.
We’re the only two occupants aside from the wait staff and I haven’t been able to wipe the contented grin off my face since we pulled up to the docks. Uncontrolled excitement ebbs through me like torrents of electricity making me feel more alive than I have in quite some time.
Leave it to Andrew to turn a simple meal into an event.
His spontaneity is beginning to spoil me. Every outing seems like a big adventure.
I devour the buttery lobster with gusto, savoring every delicious bite. It’s a lot better than the peanut butter and jelly I had waiting for me at home. After our meals, Andrew and I start chatting.
I’ve just finished a funny story about a misadventure Charli and I had last summer on a road trip gone wrong. The story is long-winded and my words are overly animated, but I have to give it to Andrew because he sits through it all with rapt interest on his face.
Sipping chilled Riesling from my wine glass, I watch him across the table. He has a heartwarming smile on his face and I get the idea that he’s up to something.
“What?”
“I want to meet her,” he shares.
Chuckling, I can only imagine how that meeting will go. Charli will probably grill him from the second I introduce them.
“Come to the Hamptons with me.”
My head spins from the rapid change in topic and I know my eyebrows nearly touch my hairline as I absorb his invitation.
“What?” I sputter, setting down my glass. “Right now?”
“No, Cupcake. Not tonight,” he laughs.
I’m glad he finds my reaction so amusing because I’m feeling frazzled. He wants to go away with me? Already?
And to the Hamptons of all places. I take another gulp of wine. I can’t help but think I’ll be a fish out of water.
“It’s somewhat of a tradition of mine to spend Independence Day there. Some of my buddies will be in town this year and I want you there, too.”
“Tell me more,” I prompt, using my hands to prop up my chin.
My interest escalates when he tells me it’s a five-day trip and that we’ll be staying at one of his properties for the duration.
“Of course Charli is welcome. We’ll have fun,” he says jovially.
Now I’m warming up to the idea. With Charli by my side, I won’t feel so out of place.
“I’d love to.”
Twenty-six
ANDREW
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Gabriel asks as we make our way back to my house after a six-mile run around Montauk.
My longtime friend is feeling blindsided by the fact that I’ve invited Lilah on this trip and I can’t say I blame him.
“You’re bringing sand to the beach,” he puffs out still trying to catch his breath.
I stare at him amused by his obvious annoyance. I waited until the end of our run to sneak in the fact that I’d be having a guest for the long weekend and that he’d be surfing for chicks on his own.
“And since when can you tolerate a girl for more than a few seconds?” he quizzes, posing a question that I really don’t have an answer to.
That night on the yacht words just started falling out of my mouth unchecked and I can’t even blame it on being drunk. I should have left well enough alone after achieving my goal in her apartment that night.
But the body wants what it wants. At least that’s what I tell myself because it’s the most comforting. I’ve developed an appetite that only Lilah has the ability to satisfy, leaving me weak to resist her pull on me.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly, using the towel tucked into the waist of my shorts to dry the sweat on my face.
“She’s put a spell on your ass, that’s what. I’ve never seen you with a chick for more than one night,” he continues as we make our way up the residential area leading to the more sprawling estates.
It’s easy enough to ignore him until he takes his final jab.
“I can’t believe it,” Gabriel grumbles in awe. “You’re pussywhipped.”
“Watch it,” I warn as my beach house comes into view. I spot an unfamiliar Range Rover in the driveway and assume it must belong to Lilah’s friend, Charli.
When I stop walking, Gabriel has no choice but to do the same. I take a moment to size him up. He’s a couple inches shorter than my six-foot-three-inches but still tall by most standards.
I’ve known him since I was a kid but we only became close once our parents shipped us off to Columbia University ten years ago. His business degree made his dad a lot prouder than the fine arts degree I showed my parents on graduation day.
Now, he spends his days as an executive for his father’s marketing empire in the City. But our friendship had always remained solid no matter the different paths we took in life.
“Look,” I say, kicking at the gravel under my running shoes. “Just act like you have some sense when we get in there. Her friend is going to be here too and I don’t need you scaring them off.”
Looking amused, Gabriel shakes his but agrees while clapping me on the back. “Whatever you say, boss. How did you two meet again?”
“She’s my financial advisor,” I fill him in as we start walking again.
This time he’s the one to stop walking.
I pause and look at him. “What?”
“Your financial advisor?”
“Yeah,” I
nod.
“I’ve been trying to get you in with my guy for the past year and some chick with a pretty face is all it took?”
Chuckling, I head for the house again but not before I hear him mutter something laughingly under his breath.
“Son of a bitch.”
***
Lilah’s voice reaches me before I see her. We’ve just stepped into the house, but I make a beeline for the sliding backdoor when I hear splashing and laughter.
Gabriel’s right on my heels, his shower forgotten.
Body glistening with tanning oil, Lilah is stretched out on a lounger with oversized glasses covering her face. Her bikini is barely there, the thin red straps crisscrossing dangerously and hardly covering anything.
I need to have a seat before I announce to everyone present just how excited I am to see her.
I’ve almost reached Lilah’s chair when movement from the corner of my eye steals my attention.
A petite woman in a yellow swimsuit is sitting at the edge of the pool with her feet dangling in the water. Charli.
She smiles and waves at me as if we’ve met before. The woman stands and starts walking to us when Lilah looks up at me from her lounging position.
“Hi,” she greets, shooting me an inviting smile.
I drop onto the seat near her feet and instinctively pull her feet into my lap.
“How was your trip, Cupcake?”
She twists her lips in a wry smile just as Charli appears at her side.
“Don’t you dare complain about my driving,” the small woman warns making Lilah laugh.
“I wasn’t going to say a thing about your lead foot,” Lilah jokes. Then she turns to me to make the introductions.
“So you’re the guy my best friend won’t shut up about,” Charli says, extending her hand in my direction.
Surprised, I stare at Lilah only to find her blushing. Even under the clunky sunglasses, her red cheeks are visible.
On my feet, I hug Charli and welcome her to my home.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Charli. I’m glad you could make it with Lilah. Thanks for getting her here safely,” I say with an easy smile.
