by Stella Rhys
My lip curled at her judgment. “I can assure you it doesn’t. Contrary to whatever assumption you’re running with, my need to fuck can generally wait till I have time to step out of the office.”
“At which point you go home and make your neighbors miserable?”
“You’re really hung up on this idea of me, aren’t you?”
“Well, just judging from the conversation I overheard last night, you host exactly the kind of… late-night activity I imagined you might. And we’re all adults so that’s fine. All I ask is for you to be considerate as far as the noise level goes, especially on the nights that you decide to take… multiple girls home.”
“In all fairness, one can easily make as much noise as two. Just depends on the girl and the night.”
“Wow. Thanks for sharing but I had no desire to know that.”
“Why? Because the idea of sex makes you uncomfortable?”
Her eyebrows flashed. “No?” she said, instantly defensive. “What would make you say that?”
I leaned back. “Well, to start, you desperately avoid saying ‘sex.’ You think ‘hard’ is a bad word and you use weird euphemisms like ‘late night activity’ to keep your speech strictly non-sexual. As far as I’m concerned, that’s some damning evidence.”
“That means nothing.”
“Then say it.”
“Say what?”
“Sex.”
Lia uncrossed her arms and slammed her hands onto her hips. “Sex,” she scoffed, throwing in a shrug to convey nonchalance. “There you have it. That work for you?”
“In a sentence.”
“This is not an erotic spelling bee, Lukas.”
I laughed. “Pretend it is.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re the one who’s bothered by what I said, so just do it, Lia. You know you want to.”
She gaped at me, so visibly in awe of my nerve that I was sure she was about to turn on her prissy ballet flats and storm out of my office. But instead, she surprised me, tapping her foot twice, inhaling deep then breathing out, “Fine. You want it in a sentence, then here it is: You. Have. Sex,” she enunciated. “You probably have a lot of sex. I suspect you’re going to have more sex than I’m willing to hear every night. You love talking about sex – so much so that you’re forcing me to talk about sex. Everything out of your mouth sounds like sex. Sex,” Lia finished breathlessly, crossing her arms over her chest. “There. That was at least four sentences. You happy now?”
“That’s certainly a way to put it.”
“You did not just do that.”
“Do what?”
“Grab your dick in front of me.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I wasn’t grabbing it, I was adjusting it under my desk and you actually weren’t supposed to see that, so apologies.”
The groan she let out was curious. It sounded desperate with a tinge of something I couldn’t interpret so I wasn’t sure why it turned me the fuck on but it did. Paired with the way she thrust her hands in her hair and I was an animal again. I wanted her. So badly that I was sure she could feel it as the silence stretched between us.
“Lukas, my key,” she finally said, her voice sounding small and exhausted. She muttered “thanks” when she took the envelope from my hand but upon ripping it open, she promptly dropped the key on the floor, tripping on nothing as she tried picking it up. “I got it,” she said quickly, flustered when I rounded my desk to help her up.
“Are you sure?” I laughed when I spotted the shoes she’d fallen out of. “Lia, those look at least two sizes too big for you.”
“I borrowed them from a friend,” she muttered in frustration. “I was barefoot when I left your house last night.”
“Fuck, seriously? I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, reluctantly accepting my hand for balance. I was silent as I felt her soft skin in my palm and my pulse quickened as I watched her bend over to slip into her shoes. Her big eyes were at the level of my chest but slowly, they drifted south, shy but unwavering till her stare landed below my belt.
Right on my cock.
Whoa.
Her cheeks brightened but to my surprise, she didn’t look away. In fact, her grip on my hand tightened just slightly as she swallowed and stared, so fucking irresistible with that hypnotized look on her face. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she had some spell cast on me because in seconds, I went from half-hard to rock solid and ready to just slam her against my body. But in a flash, she was back on her feet, lashes fluttering and chest heaving as she stammered.
“I, um – thanks for the key, Lukas,” Lia stumbled breathlessly, a flurry of white sweater, blue jeans and honey locks as she rushed the hell out my door. And just like that I was standing in the middle of my office, my cock throbbing out of control as I asked myself what the hell just happened. I had no goddamned clue.
But whatever it was, I wanted more of it.
4
LIA
“Lia, no. You did what?”
“Shhh!” I hissed as Sara practically climbed over the table to hear me say it again. It was Monday and since I’d called off yesterday’s visit due to my late start on work, we’d convened for a makeup hang at the coffee shop across the street from my building. It was a tiny spot with a fireplace that I normally loved for its coziness but today it felt like every word of our conversation was bouncing off the walls. “To be fair, it started with me falling out of your giant clown shoes – ”
“I’m four inches taller than you!”
“ – and then it ended with me holding onto his hand so I could put them back on my feet and, um… well, because of where my eye line was, I guess I kind of – ”
“Stared at the giant, pulsing hard-on he had snaked down his pants?”
“Yes. That.”
Sara howled. “Oh my God! This is the best day of my life.”
“Stop it!” I chucked a piece of cake at her. “You’re having way too much fun here. As my best friend, it is your job to absorb all my embarrassing confessions and never speak of them again.”
“I’m sorry, I just…” Sara wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. “I’m just so happy someone finally woke up ol’ Gert.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Oh my God. Make it stop.”
By Gert, Sara meant Gertrude.
And by Gertrude she meant my libido.
I wasn’t sure who had come up with the nickname – it could very well have been me – but it was a reference to how my sex drive had become an elderly woman as of late. Since leaving my crappy little hometown and the ten-year relationship that had wrecked me from the inside out, she’d become weak. Inactive. She’d been briefly alive when I first moved to the city, thanks to the daily sight of beautiful people on the sidewalks and the subways and basically everywhere. But after three months of me being obsessed with Tinder but too scared to move past the messaging stage, she finally retreated back into safety and decided it was best to concentrate on a career first.
That was the story of Gert.
But as of last week – as of Lukas Hendricks – she’d made a grand, lip-smacking return.
“Stop what?” Sara’s giggling brought me back to Earth. “My references to Gertrude or the fact that she’s suddenly back and completely out of control?”
“Both?” I replied weakly. “Sara, I mean it, stop laughing. I hate this. It’s like a switch flipped in my body and now I get these random thoughts and fantasies that make me blush and squirm and forget what I’m saying while I’m like, paying for coffee. And it sucks. It makes me feel like a mess.”
“Oh, bubs,” Sara pouted. “I’m sure it feels weird, but it’s not a bad thing. I mean it was great that you were able to shut off this side of you while getting your business on its feet, and I’m sure a part of it had to do with all the shit you went through with Ritchie, but Gertrude was bound to come back at some point – especially after three years without sex.”
<
br /> I sighed. “True.” I had a feeling most would flinch at that brutal honesty but I barely did. My celibacy was just a part of me at this point – a casual thing I carried with me day-to-day, like an old purse. “But in my defense, it’s more like two-and-a-half years,” I said, though I realized once the words left my lips that they were wrong.
I’d started dating Ritchie in high school when I was fifteen. We broke up two-and-a-half years ago, when I was twenty-five. But we’d stopped having sex long before that so actually, it was hard to calculate the true length of my dry spell. Whatever it was though, I was at peace with it. I was convinced I’d traded it in to finally find myself after growing up locked in a relationship. So I truly never minded Gert.
At least not till now.
Now, she was distracting me and filling my head with dirty thoughts that wouldn’t go away, which was less than ideal considering the amount of work I had coming up. I had to secure an investor, get some distribution and most importantly, start shopping for a space to open up my brick and mortar. It was about to be a busy year and I couldn’t afford to spend it dizzy with some infatuation. Whatever this was, I had to fix it.
“Sara, do you think…” I tilted my head slowly. “Is it possible that I’m not actually that attracted to Lukas?” I asked. She cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Please detail this theory.”
“Well, maybe he’s just the one who broke the seal,” I said, my eyes getting wider as I got the ball rolling. “I mean he was the first remotely sexual encounter I had in years, so of course he got stuck in my head. Right? But I don’t actually like him. I’m sure if I went on a date with someone else and went dancing, maybe flirted it up a bit, I’d completely forget about Lukas.”
“But then what about the new guy? Wouldn’t you get attached to him?” Sara asked.
“Not at all! I’d pick some nice, safe guy. Like, a starter boyfriend who wouldn’t get me too fired up or crazy. He’d interest me just enough and because of that, I’d still have enough brain space to concentrate on work and stuff. I could go on a couple dates, get Lukas out of my head and be totally done – right?” I asked eagerly, breathless and unblinking as I awaited Sara’s verdict. But she chewed on her straw, seemingly thinking hard as she narrowed those catlike eyes at me.
“It might work.”
“Yes!”
“It would definitely be a new distraction.”
“Yes!” I clapped my hands.
“Though plain having sex with someone would do the trick even faster.”
“What?” I slowed down and cocked my head at her. “No… Sara. Why –? You just took this in a whole other direction.”
“No, I didn’t. I just expanded on it. It’s still your idea. Just advanced.”
“Oh, well excuse me,” I laughed. “Please, educate me then, Ms. Hanna.”
“Fine.” Sara wound her mane of black hair into a giant topknot. “To put it simply, Lukas woke up your libido and now you’re crazy horny. Right?” She stuck a pen into her hair to keep it in place. “You want to get rid of these feelings but not with him, because you’re afraid of getting attached to someone that hot.” She glanced down at her phone. “And judging from just the picture on his website,” she flashed the image at me, “he looks like he’d be pretty good in bed, which would only get you more attached. Right?”
“Right. Can you stop Googling him though?”
“Yes. But the point is.” Sara kept her eyes down as she twiddled away on her phone. “A candlelit dinner isn’t going to be enough for you to forget a babe of this caliber. You need actual sex to get over him. Good, hot sex with a nice, boring guy. That way you’ll quench the thirst without getting attached, you’ll stop associating anything remotely sexual with Lukas and then you’ll finally go back to living your merry life – am I not right?”
I blinked and stared. “I mean it makes sense. It’s just weird to think about having sex for the first time in so long. Though I guess if I’m going to do it…” My gaze floated elsewhere as I sighed. “I guess it should be with someone I don’t really care about. As horrible as it sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound horrible, it sounds practical and efficient and it’s exactly why I keep Jeff around,” Sara said, popping a piece of cake into her mouth. She was referring to her copy editor at work. He was cute enough. Nowhere as cute as Sara, of course, but that was the point. He was already at the office, he wasn’t someone to obsess over and he got the job done so she could get her job done. Otherwise, her firecracker of a libido – pretty sure we’d nicknamed it Roxanne – would hold her brain hostage till she gave it some attention. Sara shrugged. “Sometimes you just gotta feed the craving and move on.”
I nodded quietly, trying to figure out if this was actually a good idea or if my mind was simply that far gone. Not that it mattered anymore. “Welp, this might just be our solution then.” I threw my hands in the air. “I guess this means I need to find myself a date.”
“Done,” Sara gave a final tap on her phone and smirked. “What do you think I’ve been doing the past two minutes?” she asked, flashing me her glowing screen. On it was my new, thoroughly filled out dating profile, all ready to go with a full bio and picture. I raised my eyebrows and nodded.
“I would yell at you for being creepy but that was impressively time-efficient.”
“How a workaholic rolls. Not that I have to tell you,” Sara said, sliding her phone across the table. “Anyway, check him out. He’s cute and fit and he has literally none of the same interests as you. He hates dogs.”
“What?”
“And chocolate.”
“Stop.”
“I know. Fuckin’ weirdo, right?” Sara said excitedly. “But he has nice arms so you’ll have great sex and be over him in a jiff. It’s gonna be great.”
I burst out laughing, in disbelief of the fact that I was actually considering this. But I was, and I didn’t mind it. I’d always been a late bloomer. I graduated college at twenty-four, got my first apartment at twenty-five and only started discovering my own hobbies and interests at twenty-six. Of course it would take till twenty-seven to figure out sex and dating. It was just how I rolled.
“Alright, fuck it. Let’s do it,” I said, grabbing Sara’s phone and messaging the cute dog hater. But just as I finished, my eyes were drawn to the well-groomed, dark blonde man in the expensive suit behind Sara. He’d been sitting with his back facing us this whole time, but now he was standing up and peering at me with a ghost of a grin on his lips. I rolled my eyes as he tossed back his espresso, suspecting that he had eavesdropped and was laughing at our conversation.
But my stomach quickly turned as I watched him exit the shop and cross the street, walking leisurely toward my building and up the stairs before getting quickly buzzed in. I felt the blood drain from my face as I stared out the window and muttered, “Shit.”
Sara frowned, glancing over her shoulder. “What?”
“Nothing. I just really hope that guy is Rachel’s new boyfriend,” I said, referring to my neighbor on the first floor.
“Why?”
“Because if he’s not, then he’s a friend of Lukas’s.” I closed my eyes as Sara’s went wide. “And he just heard every word we just said.”
5
LUKAS
“Julian said you do most of your business with professional athletes?” the brunette in my lap twirled her ponytail as she sipped a vodka soda.
I nodded as I worked on my third Scotch of the night. I may or may not have started drinking early with Emmett before meeting Julian for cigars at The Pike on Park Ave. After several rounds, the plan had been to come back here to catch the game before dinner but the second we opened the front door, the girl on the first floor popped her head right out. Rachel or Rochelle – one of those two. After introducing herself, she introduced the six or seven friends she had over for a girl’s night out. And just like that, girl’s night out became a girl’s night in my apartment because Emmett decided to op
en his dumb mouth and invite everyone over.
“Not most of my business,” I answered the question vaguely. “But some.”
“Wow.” Ponytail ran my hand up and down her thighs. “You must make millions off of them.”
“They’re good clients to have,” I said. It was the least revealing answer possible but it still drew another few girls to the couch like flies to honey. Straddling the armrest now was a leggy redhead who casually grabbed my free hand and dropped it into her lap.
“I heard you hang out with the New York Empires. That’s so cool – I love baseball,” she purred as across the room, Emmett grinned at me, toasting his lowball of whiskey at my two handfuls of thigh. Combined with the buzz of Scotch and cigars, it helped. It didn’t erase the memory of Lia’s big eyes on my cock, but at least it was something – especially since she’d been avoiding me like the goddamn plague since that day.
“Do you work out with them or something? I mean it looks like you do.”
My answers were on autopilot now, my tongue easily fielding the flirty questions till I spotted Julian coming back into the apartment. I was still talking when I flashed him a death look. We’d both agreed to entertain the girls for Emmett’s newly single sake, but Julian had taken the coward’s way out by disappearing for forty minutes. So as payback, I announced his arrival to the girls on the couch, prompting them to burst into a round of applause as he angled his way back to us.
“Welcome back, Julian!” they chorused in uniform baby voices. He visibly cringed, never having been great at faking interest where he had none. I snorted as he proceeded to ignore his cooing admirers and take a seat on the table across from me, wearing a full grin that suited Emmett much more than it did him.
“What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously. “Where the hell did you go?”
“You’ll thank me in a second,” he muttered before turning to the girls. “Give us a minute,” he said briskly. As they pouted and left, he caught a beer lobbed over from Emmett then turned back to me with the stoic expression I was more used to from him. “What’s your neighbor’s name again?”
