One Lucky Girl

Home > Other > One Lucky Girl > Page 54
One Lucky Girl Page 54

by Natasha L. Black


  “It can’t,” Gary said simply.

  “So, you think I should end it?” I asked. “At least my part in it. You think I should just try and stay away from her, tell my brothers to do the same. Not that they’ll listen.”

  Gary was busy considering a coaster on the table spinning it around with his finger slowly. “I’ll tell you the truth, son. Life’s too short.”

  As I gaped at him, he continued, “I mean, you do like this girl, right?”

  “Well….”

  “Don’t bullshit me. You like her.”

  I bit my lower lip. Gary could still read a person like a book.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “It’s not too often you meet girls like that. Girls you’re willing to stretch your morals for and consider things you never even thought possible.” Regarding me, he shrugged. “I say go for it. What’s done is done. You fell into the hole, so you might as well tread water while you’re in it.”

  “Seriously?” I eyed him, and he chuckled.

  “Okay, okay, bad metaphor. You know what I mean. You like her, your brothers like her, she likes you all. Maybe it could work.”

  “But….”

  Gary held up a hand. “I know, I know. This has potential for a whole shit ton of drama and then there’s the whole work element. Listen, I’m not saying don’t be careful. Be as careful as if your job depended on it - because it just might. But don’t be so uptight about it. Maybe it won’t work, then so what? At least you got to spend some quality time with a girl you like.”

  Above us, the light was flickering, giving Gary an extra eerie expression with his wrinkles disappearing and reappearing.

  It surprised me as I sat there and tried to think of another argument to combat Gary’s easy confidence, that I found I was relieved. That was what I’d wanted to hear, I realized. And what, conversely, I’d thought I was least likely to hear from Gary. I’d expected one of those ‘chin up and don’t be a dumbass’ speeches from him, but he’d caught me totally by surprise. As it turned out, even he thought I should give it a shot.

  “Sounds like you’ve got quite the day ahead of you,” Gary commented with a wink as our soups were delivered.

  Back at work, the first thing I did was go to Blair. “Would you want to go out to somewhere? Like a date Just the two of us?”

  For one horrible second before she responded, I began to think that I’d screwed up majorly. But then she smiled. “I’d like that.”

  “Great,” I said. “I’ll text you details later.”

  And then I left, feeling two parts excited and one part nervous. Now came figuring out what the hell the two of us were going to do.

  27

  Blair

  Black skirt or red skirt?

  In front of my mirror at home I swapped my slightly longer black skirt for my shorter red skirt. Both went well with the white cotton three-quarter sleeve shirt I’d chosen, but I still couldn’t narrow down which one was better. I only had twelve minutes left too. Peter would probably even arrive five minutes early, knowing him.

  I smiled a little at the thought. Although Peter -- as noble and sometimes even uptight as he was -- wasn’t typically my type, I couldn’t deny my attraction for him. It had started that first night I’d met him. He was strong and decisive, and firm in his convictions.

  I nodded, surveying myself in the mirror. Why was it, then, that if I thought anyone was going to mess this up, it was Peter? Probably because he’d judged, fairly so, that this situation was screwed up in all kinds of ways and destined to blow up in our faces.

  Thing was, I didn’t want it to blow up in our faces. Today, Jeremy and I had just been so easy; like old pals at work. Sure, as soon as we got into the diner a few blocks down, Jeremy had snuck a kiss and Noah had squeezed my hand under the table and we’d had to be sly about it, but it was just … Nice. We just worked together, the four of us.

  Anyway, Peter wouldn’t be inviting me out on a nice date if he planned to tell me that I had to cut out this three-way relationship thing with the other guys, would he? Besides, I’d seen how he looked at us this morning lingering at the door, telling us it was time to go. He hadn’t look like the older brother who was disapproving of what we were doing. He looked like he’d wanted to join us.

  As my phone buzzed, I groaned. Sure enough, Peter was five minutes early, and I still hadn’t decided what skirt to wear.

  “Looks like red it is,” I muttered to myself as I rushed for the door. One swipe of Blistex on my lips, I grabbed my purse and I was ready to go.

  Peter was nowhere in sight, although there was a black Porsche at the curb. I froze as Peter’s head popped out the window and he strode out.

  “A Porsche?” I said.

  Peter’s smile was self-conscious. “Over the top, I know, I just…”

  I burst out laughing and his expression grew relieved. “You ready to go?”

  I took in his nice collared blue shirt with black pants. And a tie, too.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “I guess I shouldn’t have kept it a surprise,” he commented. “We’re going to Brady’s.”

  “Brady’s?” I smoothed a fold on my skirt self-consciously. Brady’s was nice with a capital ‘N’. While the skirt and top I’d worn weren’t exactly slovenly, they were nowhere near fancy enough for a place like that.

  Then again, why had I figured any less when Peter told me that tonight the date was going to be a surprise? Truthfully, I hadn’t really thought he had it in him. I’d figured he go for some nice walk somewhere or maybe a movie. A nice dinner, I’d figured, was just too … Serious.

  I’d been an idiot, I realized. Out of all the brothers, Peter was the most serious, the one most likely to invite me on a date like this at all.

  “Don’t worry,” Peter said. “Even if you wore a dish towel you’d still be the best girl there.”

  “Stop it,” I said.

  As he helped me into the car, I noticed the music playing on the radio. It was some soft jazz, that sounded vaguely familiar.

  “This is the music Chief Fallows blasts on the loudspeakers when she wants to get everyone out of the break room,” Peter explained with a small smile. “Only it doesn’t work because I really like it.”

  My hand touched his. “I like it too.”

  When Peter looked at me, it basically obliterated all thought. The chemistry was just so strong.

  The rest of the car ride was more easy chitchat. As it turned out, Peter was less upstanding when his brothers weren’t around. It was almost as though he felt responsible for them whenever he was around them and now that it was just he and I, he felt like he could kick back and just enjoy himself. Although he did get a bit nervous when the maître d first couldn’t find his reservation.

  “Are you sure?” A muscle in Peter’s jaw tensed. “I made the reservation then called back to confirm two different times.”

  I bit my lip, trying not to smile. Only Peter would make a reservation and then call back again to ensure that it was made properly. After only another minute or so, apologizing profusely, the host found the misplaced reservation and we were whisked off to a table.

  Although it was only five PM, Brady’s was already hopping, tinkling with the sound of wineglasses being toasted and pleasant conversations. All my anxiety evaporated when Peter’s hand closed around mine. He cast me an affectionate gaze. Although he didn’t say so, it was it evident enough in the way he looked to me. It said, this woman is important to me.

  Only once we were sat at our table did I realize just what pains Peter must’ve gone to to snag the reservation. We were right in front of the stage. As the host left, I could only fix Peter with a shocked look.

  “How did you get us all the way here?”

  Peter only grinned. “Let’s just say I have some friends in high places.”

  I reached my hand over to touch the stage. “In very high places, clearly.”

  Just then, the waiter appeared to take our drink orders. The men
u was almost like a novel, with so many dishes it was hard to choose. Just when I thought I knew what I wanted, I turned the page and found something else that sounded even better. Once the waiter arrived with some water and some fancy wine Peter had recommended, Peter glanced at me knowingly. “Want help deciding?”

  “Please,” I told him. “It all sounds so good.” When the waiter returned, Peter ordered us both the same meal, one which sounded delicious according to its description. Pan-fried Alaskan salmon with roasted green beans and a yogurt sauce. Unique combination, but one he assured me was delicious.

  Elaborately dressed cabaret dancers dressed in jewel tones strutted out on the stage, some mambo music blaring. Peter leaned over the table, having to yell over the music, “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I tried yelling back.

  Peter frowned. “Think it’d be better if I was closer to you.”

  With that, he moved his chair so he was right beside me. His closeness sent tingles up my spine. Maybe we looked like one of those cheesy couples who were way too into each other and had to sit on the same side of the table, but I didn’t care. I just liked how close he was. It made me feel desired and safe.

  Our meals were delivered partway through the show. Spellbound, it was hard to decide what to focus my attention on: The scrumptious meal before me, every bite more mouthwatering than the last, the entertainment before me, or the handsome man beside me, whose gaze I felt on me more often than not.

  By the time intermission came, I was a bit relieved. Although the dancers were extremely talented, I was glad to have a chance to talk to Peter once again. Under the table, his hand squeezed my thigh. “I’m glad we could do this.”

  “So am I,” I said. “After this morning and all the craziness that’s happened, part of me was worried that….”

  “I might not be up for it? Sharing you with my brothers?”

  I nodded. “I don’t even know if I’m up for it, tell you the truth. I just … I keep waiting for this to not work, to blow up. Sometimes I feel like there is no possible way that this could actually work out. And yet it still does. And it’s so easy too.”

  “I can’t say I haven’t been having the same thoughts,” Peter admitted. “But I’ve been having the same experience too. It’s like, a part of me is afraid of trying, afraid of getting my hopes up only to have them dashed. And yet, the more I see, the more I’m starting to think that maybe this could actually work. At least, I certainly hope so.”

  His eyes were reflecting the lights all around us and they dipped to my lips.

  “So do I,” I said.

  He kissed right at the corner of my lips, sending a quiver through me.

  “Now,” he said in a low voice, leaning in further. “What to do about dessert?”

  There was something about the devilish way he said it that excited me.

  “Any ideas?” I said, a smile working up my face.

  He stroked a finger from my top lip to my bottom. “I have a lot of ideas.”

  As if somehow summoned, the waiter showed up. Peter ordered us desserts to go. “So we won’t miss our plans,” he explained.

  I knew better than to ask what they were. Clearly there was more to the surprise. And if what I had seen so far was any indication, then surprises with Peter were good. Really good.

  We stepped out of the restaurant just as the valet was bringing the Porsche to the front. I couldn’t help but giggle again.

  “I know it’s a bit much,” Peter admitted. “But I figured, if I’m going to take you out on a date, I want to do it right.”

  I whirled to face him, unsure what to say. Should I tell him how much it meant to me, how surprised I was by all of it, how he’d exceeded even my highest expectations?

  Instead, I settled on, “You sure did it right.” And a kiss.

  On his arm, he led me to the car then trotted around to the driver’s side.

  Before putting the car in gear, Peter turned to me, the takeout container in his hand. “So,” he said. “Which dessert should we try first.”

  “Whatever dessert you’d like,” I said, knowing full well what a dangerous response that was.

  Peter opened the container lid and leaned toward me.

  That first touch of his lips was electrifying. Although I forced myself to pull away, smile cheekily at him. “We having dessert or not?”

  Dipping his fingers into the container, they reached my lips with brownie.

  “Close your eyes,” Peter said, and I did.

  Soft, warm, delicious. So many sensations fluttered in me as the gooey brownie went into my mouth.

  “Mmm.” I said, the words ending in another kiss.

  I didn’t open my eyes again. No, instead, I savored the feel of his sure lips on mine, leading them where he wanted to, how he wanted them.

  When his palms cupped my face, I sighed into his mouth.

  “I’ve been wanting this…” he said, trailing off.

  My eyes snapped open. “What?”

  Peter was looking away, so now I grabbed his face, forced him to look at me.

  “Peter,” I said. “What?”

  “Just.” His face was straining against the words. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

  His words brimmed in me, a stroke all the way to my pussy.

  “Then do it,” I kissed into his neck.

  Peter pulled back, putting the car in gear. But instead of pulling out into traffic, he drove to the very back of the parking lot, parking under a burned-out light where no one would be able to see us.

  Like teenagers, we raced around to the backseat of the car and climbed in, giggling like mad. I pushed him down onto his back in the cramped space and straddled him.

  The look on his face would’ve been enough to make me wet if I wasn’t already.

  My kisses snaked around his neck, up to his ear, careful not to miss a spot. All the while I repeated, as if daring him, “Do it. Take me how you want me.”

  And, his arms curling around me, claiming me, he did. He stroked one sleeve off, then the other.

  He lay there, taking me in, his chest rising and falling with the heat of his gaze. In the dark, the blue of his irises was almost white, cutting and determined.

  One hand drawing up, with the tips of several fingers, he fluttered across the tip of my breast, watching me tremble.

  He did the same with the other, and then his fingers rose again, this time one clasping motion, ever so lightly. And then the other.

  All of me was buzzing with anticipation of his touch.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I dipped my whole upper body down, so that my breasts were in his face. The next second… oh fuck yeah… his lips were kissing around my breast, lapping and suckling closer and closer until – they were there. Suctioned on my nipple as if sucking all the sensation out of it.

  I was trembling on top of him. His hands were pulling my top off now, reveling in the newly freed flesh. Peter touched me so firmly, it was as though he were a sculptor shaping his earthen creation with his bare hands. My hands were sliding their way down and under his shirt.

  My hands found a full plate of muscles, that tensed and gave under my touch. Now Peter had moved onto my other nipple, and my hands were moving down further – toward what we both really wanted. At his brief waistband, I paused, losing my nerve.

  Peter had said he’d wanted this for so long. What if the reality didn’t live up to the fantasy?

  The next second, when Peter dipped his hand under my skirt, I didn’t have a choice anymore. Just one press of his fingers to my pussy and I knew. I would let Peter do anything he wanted to me.

  When he finally slipped a finger in, my whole body shuddered, rejoicing in what it so badly needed.

  Because, as Peter pulsed his fingers into me, and I got to work on undoing his buttons, I knew now. Why there had still been residual awkwardness between Peter and me. It was because of this – or the lack of this, rather. It was because I needed
to fuck him fully and be fucked. It was because we needed this.

  And then I released his dick from his briefs.

  Talk about wow. It was thick and hard and ready for me. Taking it in my hands brought a grunt out of him. Meanwhile, Peter was teasing moan after moan out of me. My pelvis twisted around its pulsing center. Although I was ready for something more now.

  With Peter’s hard dick in my hand, I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I caught his eye, nodded.

  “Please,” I said.

  His face grew lustful as his fingers slipped out of me, helped my panties down.

  And then, his arms around me, he paused. “You ready?”

  I hoisted my pelvis up onto him in answer.

  His dick was thick; almost too thick. He gently eased himself into me and I groaned as my pussy stretched to accommodate him.

  Once he was seated fully in me, I threw my head back and cried out as I rode him.

  “More,” was all I could think to moan.

  Peter, meanwhile, was murmuring things, things I had to concentrate to hear:

  “This is better than I ever thought.”

  “God, your pussy feels so good on my dick.”

  As if only his continued thrusts were dislodging them, these words he’d been wanting to say.

  “Fuck, you’re amazing.”’

  “Blair, you’re, we’re…”

  That was where I cut in. “Perfect.”

  And then I hoisted my pussy onto his dick with everything I had. We fucked like rabbits, spasming shallow and fast and hungry. Peter had gotten me so aroused, I couldn’t even savor it anymore, no, I needed the finish line.

  I was nearing it fast.

  Peter thrust up into me mercilessly, chasing the same end that I was sprinting toward. He gripped my hips and held me firm to him as I ground my pelvis down into his, seeking the sensation of his curls on my clit.

  Then, with one final shuddering thrust, my vision went black as I came hard around Peter’s cock. I clamped down on, causing him to blow inside me, the feeling of him filling me up causing me to come again.

 

‹ Prev