Misadventures on the Night Shift

by Lauren Rowe

  Lucas pauses. “But you did, too, right?”

  I don’t reply.

  “Oh, shit. You’re pissed?” he says.

  I remain mute, but only because I don’t know what to say. I’m not pissed, actually. I’m…vaguely disappointed my little scheme didn’t work. But I don’t know how to explain that to Lucas without sounding like an extremely manipulative little bitch.

  “What are you pissed about?” Lucas asks. “You obviously got off on what we did every bit as much as Camden and I did. I mean, either that or you’re a porn-star version of Meryl Streep.”

  I can’t help myself. I chuckle. “Well, yeah, obviously I got off on it. No acting skills, no matter how masterful, could make a woman shoot cum out her cooch.”

  Lucas guffaws at that.

  “Lucas, the truth is, I only suggested the threesome to light a fire under your ass. I did it to make you want me for yourself, not to make you want to blurt, ‘Hey, Camden, let’s make Abby our penis pincushion again!’”

  Lucas laughs. “Yeah, I already knew that’s why you did it. I’m not stupid, Abby. And don’t worry. It worked like a charm.”

  “It did?”

  “Of course, it did. Why do you think I bit your ass? I was claiming you, baby. You’re all mine now.”

  My heart leaps. “I am?”

  “Fuck yeah. Just like you planned. Now that I’ve had you, there’s no going back. You’re a diabolical genius, babe.”’

  I want to shriek with glee but I somehow manage to contain myself. “So it’s going to be me and you from now on, then?”

  “Well, yeah, you’re mine now, for sure. But if it’s all right with you, I was kind of thinking it’d be fun to do the threesome thing with Camden once more—but with me in charge of my girlfriend’s pleasure. How about we use Cam as our human dildo and I get my girl off even harder next time?”

  I consider that idea for a moment. Truthfully, it sounds hot as hell. The devil on my shoulder is nodding profusely. But the angel? That little bitch keeps hearing Dr. Carlson’s voice whispering in her ear.

  “You still there?” Lucas asks.

  “Yeah, I’m just thinking about it.”

  “Hey, no thinking allowed.”

  I remain mute, still lost in a tug-of-war inside my own mind.

  “Hey, how about you come up here and talk this through with me?” he says. “I think this is the kind of conversation we should have face-to-face.”

  “I wish I could, but I’m all alone down here. Danica took her break.”

  “There’s no one in the lobby but you?”

  “It’s just little ol’ me.”

  “No guests?”

  “Nope. The first checkouts won’t start happening for another thirty minutes or so, I’d guess.”

  “Okay, cool. Hang tight. I’m coming down to see you to help you figure this out.”

  Before I can reply, the line goes dead. Four minutes later, one of the elevators opens and Lucas strides out in all his rock star glory, his face positively glowing. “Hello, Angel,” he says brightly when he reaches the front desk.

  My heart leaps at the sight of his gorgeousness. “Hello, Mr. Ford,” I reply. “Wow, you look happy.”

  “I am.” He leans his elbow on the counter and shoots me a boyish smile. “You know why I’m happy? On the way down here in the elevator, another killer song came to me. I can’t wait to race back upstairs and write it.”

  Oh my gosh, he’s absolutely adorable right now. “Is it another ‘Shattered Hearts’?” I ask hopefully.

  “Nope. I’m not even close to writing that motherfucker yet. This one’s going to be a pretty love song for my pretty, perverted girl who looks like an angel and fucks like the devil.”

  I look around to confirm nobody’s entering the lobby. “How about you kiss your pretty, perverted girl for an extra jolt of inspiration?”

  “Nope. I’m dying to kiss you for the first time, don’t get me wrong, but when I do, I want to do it right. Kissing’s a much bigger deal to me than fucking, actually. That’s why I didn’t kiss Camden’s girlfriend. It means something to me.”

  “So does that mean I won’t be kissing Camden again?”

  He nods. “Damn straight. Only me.”

  “And yet you still want another threesome?”

  “With me in the driver’s seat and Camden as our toy.” He shrugs. “But like I said before, if you feel uncomfortable at any time, you say so and we stop. I just figured you’d be up for it, since you’re the one who suggested the threesome in the first place.” He looks at me sideways like he thinks he’s calling my bluff in a game of poker.

  I consider my reply for a moment. “Frankly, I’m up for doing anything with you, if you genuinely want it. And as long as you’re genuinely feeling inspired by it. That’s what we’re here to do, right? Help you feel again after so many years of being shut down?”

  Lucas smiles broadly. “You’re amazing, Abby, you know that? An angel. I’ve never met anyone who looks so innocent on the one hand, but who’s—” He abruptly stops talking. His face lights up. “Oh, shit. I just had another song idea! Oh, Jesus, I’ve got to get back upstairs and start writing. I’m a volcano erupting! Ha! I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay, baby?” He blows me a kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

  I wave. “Happy songwriting.”

  Lucas takes a step away from me but abruptly whirls around to face me again. “Hey, by the way, I don’t want you bolting away again tomorrow night, okay? It freaked me out. I know you’ve got to work but I truly thought you hated me when you left.”

  “Hated you? What part of me gushing fluid out my cooch made you think I hated you?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Well, not that part, obviously. Just the part when you ran away. It felt like, I dunno, maybe you were…ashamed?”

  I consider that idea for a long beat and realize it’s true. “Yeah, I think I was a bit ashamed,” I admit. “But not in the way you think. I think I felt ashamed by how much I liked what we did. Not by the fact that I did the deed in the first place.”

  Lucas’s beautiful smile broadens. “Now see? I couldn’t have come up with a sexier response than that in my hottest fantasies. Ha! That’s why you’re my muse, baby. Because I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. Who else but you could possibly bring a sexy meaning to the word ‘ashamed’?” His face lights up again. “Oh, for the love of fuck! I just got another song idea!” He lurches forward across the counter like he’s going to leap across it and kiss the hell out of me, but he stops short and cups my face in his palms, smiling like a lunatic. “Never feel ashamed of who you are. You hear me? So you’re a girl who likes to fuck and does it well. So what? You think Camden and I feel ashamed of what we did? Not for a minute. So, start thinking like a dude and own who you are. You’re perfect just the way you are. And don’t let anybody tell you any differently.” With that, he releases my face, slides off the counter, winks, and strides with breathtaking swagger toward the elevator bank, leaving me standing alone behind the front desk with my knees weak and my heart in my mouth.

  Chapter Twenty

  I can’t concentrate on what my professor at the front of the lecture hall is saying. Employment law is my favorite class, actually, but today nothing can compete with my daydreams about what depraved and perverted things are undoubtedly going to happen to me later tonight in the penthouse suite. I focus on my laptop screen and realize I haven’t typed a single word since my professor started talking over twenty minutes ago.

  Oh, well, I suppose if I’m not going to pay a lick of attention today in class, I should use my time for something more fulfilling than staring off into space. I click into my blog and begin writing a new entry about threesomes and the undeniable appeal of taboo sex in general. The minute I begin writing, my exhaustion melts away and the words pour out of me in a torrent of excitement. Much like how Lucas said he felt when he wrote “Assassin,” I feel like I’m merely transcribing an essay already in existence in the universe
.

  When I’m done writing, I sit back in my chair, pride welling up inside me. Wow, words have never just flowed out of me quite like this before. And, if I do say so myself, they were excellent words. The finished product is honest and raw. Vulnerable and funny. And sexy as hell. Of course, if my parents ever found out about this essay or my blog in general, they’d literally disown me, or maybe even try to get me institutionalized. But I don’t care. I now realize this blog is my lifeline. The only place in the world where I’m free to be myself. And nothing in the world could make me give it up.

  The professor wraps up class and tells us about our next reading assignment and I begin packing up my laptop and books.

  “Hey, Abby,” a male voice says.

  I look up. Noah.

  “I’m thinking about grabbing a burger,” Noah says. “You want to join me?”

  Oh, man, he looks so damned hopeful. But he’s just not the man for me. “Thanks so much, Noah, but I worked a full shift at the hotel last night and I’m working again tonight, so I’ve got to get home and catch up on my sleep.”

  “When do you have another night off? Maybe I could take you out to a nice dinner? I was thinking maybe we could try a real date next time.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve actually got a boyfriend now.”

  Noah’s face falls. “Wow. That was quick. I thought you said you…” He shifts his backpack on his shoulder. “Is this the same guy you’d just gotten out of a relationship with the other night, or…?”

  “No, no, it’s someone completely different. Someone I’ve had a crush on for a long time. We finally connected out of nowhere the other night. The night after you and I got together, actually, and it was like, ka-boom! Fireworks. You know how that goes.”

  Noah’s cheeks flush. “No, unfortunately, I don’t.”

  My stomach clenches. This nice guy doesn’t deserve a girl like me. He deserves a nice girl who’ll appreciate him. But there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t want him.

  “I’m sorry,” I squeak out. “It just happened out of the blue.”

  “No worries,” Noah says. He tries to smile. “I hope it works out for you. Just do me a favor. Tell your new boyfriend, whoever he is, Noah Endicott says he’s a lucky bastard.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I keep tossing and turning in bed in my darkened bedroom.

  No matter how exhausted I am, I can’t stop obsessing about what’s going to happen later tonight at the hotel with Camden and Lucas. Now that I’ve had a little time to work through my thoughts about the situation, I’m certain I have no desire to engage in a replay of last night, even if the guys flip their roles and Lucas assumes control of whose dick goes where.

  True, last night was unbelievably exciting, I can’t deny that. But I think it was mostly because I was experiencing the rush of making Lucas do something he hadn’t planned to do. I was conquering him. But am I really up for a planned orgy with both men, for no other reason than to satisfy our mutual depravity and with no psychological component beyond sheer hedonism? Honestly, I really don’t think I am. See, Mom? I told you I don’t need Dr. Carlson anymore!

  The truth is, I want Lucas, not Camden. And as fun as last night’s threesome was, and as much as I’ll probably want to try one again at some point, right now, no amount of talking myself into screwing Camden again—even if Lucas is calling the shots—seems to be working.

  I turn onto my opposite side in the bed. The problem is, every time I imagine myself in bed with both Lucas and Camden, I can’t seem to settle on a parking spot for Camden’s dick. Would I want him to shove his dick down my throat again? Um, no, thank you. Although I thoroughly enjoyed the way Camden unexpectedly wound up face-fucking me, it now feels like a one-time thing to me. Been there, done that. I’m absolutely positive I won’t feel an equivalent thrill doing it exactly like that again.

  So, okay, then I imagine Camden giving me a special delivery through my back door while Lucas simultaneously gives me one through my front, and I literally shudder at the thought. Would I like to get double-fucked by two men simultaneously one day? Hell yes, I would. Pretty please. But in this context, at this moment in time, it doesn’t feel right. First off, anal is kind of special to me, actually. It definitely requires intense trust with my partner and lots of communication. I’ve only done it twice in my life, so I’m thinking Lucas, not Camden, should be the special guy who gets to claim my almost-virgin ass tonight. And yet, when I think, “Okay, so that leaves Lucas giving it to me up my ass while Camden fucks me up the cooch,” that combination doesn’t seem right, either. How the hell could I give Camden my sacred pussy and let him be the man who looks into my eyes while fucking me? The man who gets to kiss me and press his hard chest into my soft breasts while sliding himself in and out of me, all while Lucas, the man I want more than life itself, is once again left to fuck me anonymously from behind? It just doesn’t feel right.

  All of which leads me to the same conclusion again and again: I don’t want to fuck Lucas and Camden tonight. I want Lucas and no one else. And, unfortunately, no matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, no matter how much money Lucas is paying me, no matter how hard I got off last night with both guys, I simply can’t seem to change the way I feel down deep in my soul.

  Damn.

  I guess all that therapy with Dr. Carlson managed to leave a mark on me, after all.

  Crap.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I exit the elevator and walk down the hallway toward Penthouse A, my jaw set and my mind racing. What’s going to happen when I tell the guys what I’ve decided—that I only want Lucas tonight, despite my prior amenability to another three-way? Will Lucas feel like I’m reneging on our deal? Will he demand his money back? And, if he does, what the heck will I tell Danica?

  With each step I take toward Lucas’s door, the more anxious I feel about the situation—and that pisses me off. Why the hell am I becoming a prude all of a sudden? There was a time in my life when I wouldn’t have cared where Camden stuck his dick inside me, especially if letting him do it would get Lucas off. So what’s my problem now?

  I reach the door of the penthouse suite and raise my fist to knock but freeze when I hear Lucas inside. He’s singing and playing his guitar behind the door and the sound is absolutely mesmerizing. I don’t recognize the song Lucas is playing and can’t make out his lyrics, but it’s instantly intoxicating. The kind of song you hear blaring out of a passing car and immediately grab your phone to figure out what it was.

  Yeah, that settles it. I’m being stupid here. Last night was an amazing, erotic experience. I need to stop overthinking things and go with the flow. If, somehow, another threesome is going to help inspire the genius on the other side of this door to write more songs like this one, then I should throw a haymaker on the angel on my shoulder and let my freaky little devil run the show.

  Lucas lets out one final soaring note in his song and the room falls silent.

  And that’s my cue.

  I take a deep breath and rap on the door, my heart throbbing, determined to tell Lucas I’m up for whatever he wants, no matter what it is. But the door to the suite opens, and Lucas, with a massive hard-on bulging behind his jeans, yanks me into the room like he’s saving me from a runaway train before I can say a word.

  The minute we’re both in the suite, Lucas slams the door behind us, pins me against a wall, and, for the first time ever, lays a passionate kiss on me that makes my entire body explode with desire. Oh my God, this kiss! It’s everything I’ve ever fantasized kissing Lucas Ford would be! He’s not merely kissing me. He’s consuming me. And I’m absolutely enraptured.

  Lucas pulls out of our kiss, gasping for air. “I told Cam not to come,” he says. “I decided I don’t want to share.”

  Every cell in my body is alive with excitement. I’m dying to know why Lucas changed his mind, of course. But that’s clearly a conversation for later. “Good,” I blurt.

  Luc
as doesn’t hesitate. He rips off my clothes like they’re on fire, followed by his jeans and briefs. And in no time flat, he’s got one of my hard nipples in his mouth and his fingers stroking between my legs.

  As his fingers continue working me into a frenzy, he kisses and nips and licks and sucks his way down my writhing torso until he’s on his knees before me. He teases my belly ring with his tongue and laps at the angel tattoo on my pelvic bone for a moment, and then he slides his large hands around me, grabs my ass, and pulls my crotch into his face.

  Of course, I’m assuming he’s going to immediately devour my bull’s-eye, but he doesn’t. To the contrary, he shocks the hell out of me by nuzzling my clit with his nose and inhaling deeply, like he’s sniffing the bouquet of the finest pinot noir from a wine decanter.

  “You smell so good,” he whispers, his warm breath teasing my clit. “I love your aroma, baby.”

  I should be embarrassed, right? Self-conscious, perhaps?

  But I’m not.

  In fact, I’m nothing but turned on.

  He nuzzles my clit with his nose and inhales loudly again, and then, finally, blessedly, grips my hips, leans into my crotch, and begins lapping at my bull’s-eye with so much fervor, I’m momentarily incapable of breathing.

  When I’m able to inhale again, I prop my right thigh onto Lucas’s muscled shoulder, tilt my pelvis into his hungry mouth, and ride his beautiful face like I’m trying to smother him.

  “I’m addicted,” he says between my legs, his voice strained.

  I grab Lucas’s dark hair to steady myself as he eats me with rhythmic, lapping motions of his tongue and lips, my pelvis matching his mouth’s motion. “Lucas,” I breathe. “So good.”

  Without stopping what he’s doing with his mouth, he slides his fingers deep inside me and massages my G-spot for mere seconds. And that’s all she wrote. A tidal wave of euphoria crashes down on me.