by Lulu Pratt
I have a bucket list of types of women I want to fuck. There’s a list of more than two-hundred boxes that I want to check off before I turn thirty. So far I’ve ticked seventy boxes. Not bad considering I still have two years before my thirtieth birthday.
Fucking a woman in all fifty states had settled a large chunk of the items on the list. I’d traveled from state to state working on my paintings last winter as well as enjoying the local flavor every single night.
Since returning home six months ago, progress down the list slowed substantially but I wasn’t at a standstill by any means. I just need to think of new tactics to go after what I want.
With the hotheaded bartender checked off, it’s time to focus my attention on the rest. There’s an entire section for career woman I haven’t explored yet and I think it’s about time that I do.
A hot weather girl, naughty nurse or bossy lawyer should be a good start.
It can’t be that hard to rack up a few more, especially since summertime is here and women are practically out in spades looking for their next fling. At least that’s all they’ll be getting from me.
I don’t do long term. Under any circumstances. It’s never happening. Not once have I met a pussy special enough to make me commit to a lifetime of routine and boring sex in the missionary position. A shudder runs through me just thinking about it.
Misty down at Channel Five news has been screaming for my affections at the last few events we’ve attended. But little does miss sunny days know, she’s about to get my undivided attention.
She’s blonde with tits the size of Texas and a Colgate smile. What’s not to like? I decide to give her a call later as I step out of the shower and onto the heated tile flooring.
With a towel wrapped around my waist, I slick my fingers through the short tufts of hair, deciding to sort it out later because a cup of coffee is calling my name. The shower had helped with the smell but I’m hoping a serious dose of caffeine will eliminate the headache.
In my kitchen, I head to the single-serve coffee machine my housekeeper, Gladys, installed for the days she isn’t here. Being Sunday, she has the day off and I’m left to fend for myself. As much as anyone would have to do with a fully stocked fridge overflowing with their favorite meals.
Gladys always outdoes herself.
Hovering near the counter, I drink the strong Colombian coffee like it’s water. My eyes barely take in the old but polished features of my kitchen because it’s the same thing I’ve looked at for years. After inheriting the place at the age of twenty-one, it’s been my bachelor pad ever since. Only minimal updates have been made over the years to preserve the historic structure.
Halfway done with my second mug of coffee, I open the fridge to inspect the contents and Gladys didn’t disappoint.
“Hell yeah,” I say, pulling out the Tupperware full of her famous baked ziti.
Never mind the fact that it’s nine in the morning, Gladys’ baked ziti is perfect for any time of day.
With it heating in the microwave, I make my way to the front hall to inspect the pile of mail I’ve neglected all week. It’s stacked neatly so I grab it and begin flipping through envelopes.
Bills. Event invites. Credit card offers. Coupons for services that I will never need.
The usual bullshit.
A brightly colored leaflet catches my eye. Well, not so much the leaflet but the woman on it.
She’s fucking hot. Even though it’s just a headshot, the photo sends weird signals throughout my body.
The woman is a brunette with eyes darker than my morning coffee. She has the face of an angel. Everything about it is feminine and soft, from her slightly rounded cheeks to her small nose and her full pink lips.
Her neck is fucking perfection. The pallor of its complexion is begging me to mark it with my mouth and show the world that she’s been marked off my list.
Flawless, straight white teeth are bared by her warm smile and I can just imagine the feel of those full lips wrapped snuggly around my shaft as I pump deep into her throat. In an instant my mind transports me to a scene with her kneeling before me, her knees digging into the cold hardwood floor as she takes me into her hot, wet mouth.
Holy hell.
Never in my life have I been so damn turned on by the idea of someone. And I can’t even see the rest of her! An urgency I can’t explain comes over me and I know I need to see the rest of her.
I need her. If the tent rising at the front of my towel is any indication, this sexy brunette is going to be next tick on my bucket list. The need growing inside of me is carnal and I intend to satisfy my hunger.
Scanning the leaflet, it’s for a wealth management firm situated in the center of Greenwich that I’ve never heard of before.
Tossing the rest of the mail on the table, I turn and head back to the kitchen still staring at the leaflet. Mentally, I’m updating my checklist all the while. This woman is divine and I’ve got to sample her for myself.
Despite its rocky start, today is turning out to be good after all.
The day I can add “fucked a woman on a leaflet” to my running total will be a good day indeed.
Two
ANDREW
This morning I wake up with a mission. I’m going to meet the vixen on the leaflet if it’s the last thing I do.
By early Monday afternoon, I’m pulling into the small parking lot outside of the office building advertised in the leaflet. I didn’t make an appointment, but I’m pretty confident that I can easily make myself a priority.
My last name holds weight around this town and I don’t have a problem taking advantage of that fact.
Cutting the engine of my ‘67 Camaro, I take a moment to stare up at the building. Castle Wealth Management. The building isn’t big by any means, nor is it flashy which I imagine works well for their exclusive clientele.
In the small lobby, I shoot a toothy grin at the older lady behind the desk and pull the leaflet out of my back pocket. Before I can speak, her eyes double in size like she’s seen a celebrity.
“How can I help you today?” She gushes and I swear her cheeks turn pink as she waits for my response.
“I actually have a favor to ask,” I say smoothly, putting the brightly colored advertisement in front of her. I notice her name on a small name plate and play it up for her. “Louisa, could you tell me if this pretty lady works here?”
Louisa eyes the photo in front of her before nodding and supplying me with the exact info I need.
“That’s Lilah Tucker, one of our newer advisors. Would you like to schedule a consultation with her, Mr.?” she asks, clicking away with her mouse as if to pull up a calendar.
“Knight, Andrew Knight.” I flash my smile as Louisa taps away on the keyboard for a few seconds.
So Lilah Tucker’s new.
That explains why I couldn’t find anything about her on their website. Now that I know her name, it’s a perfect match for her — soft and feminine. And fucking sexy as hell.
“I’d like to see her now.” My words brook no argument as I stare at her pointedly, waiting for her to spring into action.
“Of course,” she mutters before scurrying off.
***
Leaflet woman is unreadable and impossible to break. Since I’ve been in her office, she’s expertly intercepted any pass I’ve tried to make at her.
I don’t know whether to be impressed or ticked off. I think I’m a little bit of both. Most women would throw themselves at my feet the second I walk through the door, but she’d barely batted an eyelash at my presence.
Lilah’s back is ramrod straight as she rattles off something about the current market trends and why I should get started as soon as possible in order to yield the most profit.
She could be speaking Cantonese for all I care. It’s just white noise at this point as I rethink my strategy.
“Do you have any questions?” She asks in that controlled yet silky voice. A nice jolt goes straight to my groin.
/> “Are you free tomorrow night?” I ask, throwing caution to the wind.
She’s going to deflect, no doubt. But it’s worth a fucking shot.
“I meant about our services here at Castle.”
Her voice doesn’t waver but the red tint creeping up the flawless skin of her neck is enough for me to know that I’m getting to her.
That’s all the ammunition I need.
“Who are you dating?” My question is straightforward.
I don’t fuck women who belong to someone else. At least not anymore. It just isn’t worth the headache.
“Who said I was dating anyone?”
Lilah crosses her arms under her chest, bringing more attention to her tits. The deep V-neck of her blouse has been teasing me throughout the whole meeting but now they’re on full display.
Jesus.
Picturing my head buried between the two mounds, I shift in my seat and refocus on our current conversation.
“You keep shooting me down, Ms. Tucker, and I figure there must be a reason.”
Slouching in my chair, I run a finger over my bottom lip and focus my gaze on her.
“Have you stopped to consider that maybe I’m only interested in doing my job and nothing more? Have you also considered that even if I was interested in dating a potential client, that maybe — just maybe — you’re not my type?”
I can’t stop the smile that stretches across my face at her words.
My eyes roam over her features again and desire continues to course through me as I take her in. Stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it. That leaflet photo hadn’t done her justice.
This woman is a masterpiece and she’s definitely attracted to me. The way she just licked her lips is all the fucking proof I need. Dark brown waves brush her slender shoulders as she fixes her chocolate orbs on me.
“We’re both adults, Ms. Tucker. So let’s cut to the chase.”
She clasps her hands in front of her and waits for me to go on.
“I want you.”
An audible gasp fills the room and my grin grows wider. This is going to be fun.
“And from the way you’ve been looking at me since I walked in,” I continue languidly, “You want me, too.”
Lilah opens and closes her mouth several times trying to formulate a response before finally giving up and stares daggers at me.
Her heated glare causes a tightening in my boxers. Swearing under my breath, I ignore the urge to adjust myself right then and there.
Damn, she’s sexy when she’s pretending to be angry.
“I can’t see under your desk, but I’m willing to bet you’re squirming. You’ve looked just about ready to pounce on me since I walked through that door. It’s written all over your face, sweetheart.”
Okay, maybe I’m projecting. But I’d definitely caught a glimpse of something other than professionalism flicker across her face and I’m damn well going to run with it.
Sitting up, I lean in to finish my statement.
“I can feel it every time you look at me and hear it in your voice each time you open that pretty little mouth of yours. Deny it all you want, but you crave me just as much as I’m craving you, and I think we should do ourselves a favor and see where it leads.”
Wordlessly, Lilah grabs the bottle of Fiji near her sleek keyboard and gulps down nearly half the contents.
“I’m going to grab you a copy of some of the services I mentioned, Mr. Knight. Then you can be on your way,” she says breezily, trying her hardest to brush off our conversation.
It’s clear that she wants to take the messier route. This meeting has been nothing but a game of cat and mouse and she doesn’t look like she’s ready to surrender any time soon.
Luckily for both of us, I’m no stranger to the chase and I always capture my prey.
Three
LILAH
How the hell did I let this meeting get away from me?
I stand up too quickly to get the papers from the printer and I almost lose my balance. Unsteady on my feet, I grab a firm hold of the edge of my desk while the man seated in my guest chair smirks at me.
Damn those perfect teeth and those hypnotizing cobalt eyes.
My panties have been sticking to me since he walked into my office with that sexy swaggering gait. He’d dominated the room from the door and I knew immediately that I was in trouble.
“Are you okay? Do you need a hand?” he asks, moving as if he’s going to get up and offer me assistance.
God help me.
The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause of my distracted state and seems to be relishing in the fact.
“No!” I blurt out, holding up my hand to halt his actions. If he comes anywhere near me, I have no doubt that I’ll lose it completely.
That same smirk is resting on his lips but he remains seated.
“No, you’re not okay? Or no you don’t want me to help you?”
I hate how calm he is while I fall apart, succumbing to the lust I’d been trying to tamp down.
“Just stay right there,” I plead, swiftly making my exit from the room. My legs feel like jelly as I round the corner and finally escape his simmering gaze.
At the printer near the end of the hall, I take a few calming breaths and try to gather my scattered nerves.
Even after I’ve retrieved the stack of papers from the tray, I remain in the hall facing the wall. If any one of my coworkers were to walk by at this exact moment, they’d probably think I was crazy, staring at the wall and breathing all heavy.
But I can’t be bothered by their hypothetical opinions. I desperately need this reprieve before I have to face him again.
Andrew Knight is a problem.
A problem wrapped in beautifully tanned skin with tattoos running the length of his well-muscled arms. Veins ripple across his thick forearms. Looking at him, all I could think about back there was being pinned up against the wall while his arms rested on either side of my head, caging me in.
He is simply a masterpiece.
His features are strong and masculine but he also possesses an aristocratic air that lets me know that he’s never really had to want for anything in his life. If he thought of something he needed, it probably appeared out of thin air before he completed the thought.
Old money.
Going over his portfolio earlier had confirmed my suspicions. He’s a trust fund baby, an heir to the Knight clan that runs this damn town. Which explains why Louisa was practically gushing when she came into my office to tell me I had a walk-in appointment waiting in the lobby.
She barely excused herself before Andrew’s expansive shoulders were taking up the doorway and his looming presence introduced him long before he opened his mouth.
Despite his rugged bad-boy exterior, he’s richer than anyone has the right to be and now he wants my help managing it all.
No pressure.
When I took this position, I assumed my clients would be as gray and old as my grandparents. It totally slipped my mind that younger clientele might show up and turn my nerves to mush.
He must be used to women throwing themselves at his feet. It’s the only explanation for his brazen approach back there. But I’m not budging. I can’t afford any other complications in my life at the moment.
The man in my office is beyond hot. It feels like a sin to even look at him because of all the naughty thoughts that bombard my brain.
His handsome face is smooth, free from facial hair with a strong jawline. Those blue eyes are electric and perceptive as hell. It seems like they’re reading me like a book in spite of how well I’m trying to hold it together.
Having stalled long enough, I turn on my heel and head back to my office.
Andrew’s posture is relaxed when I enter, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. Somehow he still manages to look completely in control, the slouched position only adding to the air of confidence that surrounds him.
Dressed in all black, he has the appearance of some
one dark and borderline dangerous. And I don’t doubt it for one second.
A short-sleeved black T-shirt is stretched across his chest and the rippling muscles of his arms. The sleeves stop in the middle of his biceps and the intricate tattoos on both arms disappear underneath. I can only imagine what the rest of the artwork looks like. His powerful legs are covered in distressed black denim and heavy black boots round out the look.
The heat of his smoldering gaze follows me until I finish rounding the desk. It takes everything I have not to topple over in front of him in these ridiculous sky-high heels.
“Here are the materials I promised.”
My voice is infused with extra cheer as I shuffle the papers against my desk before stuffing them into a folder with Castle’s discreet logo elegantly etched across the front in silver.
I strategically tuck one of my brand new business cards in the slot before extending the package to him.
After only staring at it for a few beats, Andrew reaches out to take it from me.
I await another one of his slick remarks, secretly hoping that it’s coming. I could use some fuel for my fantasies later.
But when he opens his mouth, the request that falls from his lips shocks me.
“I want to paint you, Lilah.”
Blinking, I try to process what he’s said.
Paint me?
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me,” he says, almost impatiently and something about his irritated countenance turns me on even more.
The way his heavy brows meet in the middle of his forehead while he frowns, never breaking eye contact, is mouthwatering.
Man, I need help. What the hell has gotten into me today?
But I must admit, I’m intrigued by his words.
“You’re an artist?” I can’t help the wonder that seeps into my voice.
An indecipherable expression dances across his face before he bites his bottom lip.
“Something like that,” he murmurs, and it’s the first time that smirk disappears completely.
I don’t know why I can’t leave this alone. I should be walking him out of the front door, but instead I settle into my seat and ask another question.
