Looking Real Good

by C. Morgan

  I rounded on her. “Stop talking.”

  With a soft chime, the doors closed, and we were alone.

  Chapter 22

  Kayla

  I was trapped in the corner of the elevator. Lukas caged me in and stepped in close. His face was a mask of anger and I knew it was a good thing I’d interrupted his argument with the two men at the bar when I did. Had I not intervened, there likely would have been an article published the following day about Lukas Holt throwing two fifty-year-old men out on their asses in front of the Monroe Hotel.

  It would have been a scandal and a PR nightmare and I never would have heard the end of it from Lisa. Not to mention the damage it might have done to Lukas’ already staggering reputation.

  “Lukas,” I breathed. His name was the only word I could think to say. My mind was a fuzzy, jumbled, white-noise-filled space.

  “I’m tired of this runaround,” he said. His voice was gravelly and deep.

  I tried to speak. I tried to ask him what runaround he was talking about. But no words came out.

  “I want you, Kayla,” he said.

  My heart hammered wildly in my chest.

  He moved in closer. His eyes raked over the length of my body and I wished I’d had the foresight to wear a dress that didn’t betray my arousal. My nipples hardened and pressed against the silk fabric as he closed in on me.

  “And you want me too,” he said, finally stopping when he was well within my personal bubble. He planted one hand on the elevator wall beside my head and stared down the length of his nose at me. “No more games. No more pretending.”

  “I’m not pretending.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  I licked my lips.

  What could I say to get him to give me space?

  The better question lingered in the back of my mind.

  Do I want him to give me space, or do I want him to take what he wants, consequences be damned?

  “Look at me,” Lukas barked.

  My eyes darted up to his.

  “Tell me to stop,” he whispered. “Tell me to stop and I’ll listen.”

  I swallowed.

  He moved quicker than I anticipated. One minute, he was staring into my soul, and the next, he had a hold of the back of my neck. I didn’t resist when he dropped his head, and his lips crashed against mine. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet and spiced, like chai. He smelled like musk and pine and citrus and I gave in to the rush of my own blood, pumping in a chorus of desire screaming at me to go for it.

  Let him touch you.

  I draped an arm over his shoulders as he craned my neck back to kiss my throat. His lips were warm and soft as velvet as he worked his way down my neck and across my chest. He lingered at the swell of my cleavage until a strap fell from my shoulder and exposed half of my breast. A deep, guttural growl escaped him.

  My knees trembled and my thighs felt like I’d just done a three-hour spin class. He pinned me to the wall, his fist still clenched in my hair, and I gazed at the bright lights in the ceiling as he jerked the top of my dress down to expose the rest of my breast. He cupped me in one hand and pinched my nipple with his thumb and forefinger. A breathless giggle left me but it was stolen away when he sealed his mouth over my nipple and flicked at me with his tongue.

  “Someone might catch us,” I whispered. Every word hitched in my throat like it was getting caught on thorns. “Lukas, please.”

  “I don’t give a damn if someone catches us.”

  “I do,” I muttered.

  He broke away and released my hair. I struggled to catch my breath as he shielded me from the door with his body. My breast was still exposed but he stared into my eyes. “I’ve been waiting too long for you to make me wait.”

  We crashed together again.

  When the doors opened with a soft chime, Lukas blocked me from the view of the hallway as I pulled the straps of my dress back up. Luckily, nobody was there. He took my hand and led me down the hall to the Presidential Suite, where he swiped his card and shouldered the door open. He ushered me inside ahead of him and slapped my ass as I brushed past.

  Hard.

  It stung. I yelped. His deep chuckle followed me into the depths of the room as he closed and locked the door behind him. He didn’t turn the lights on. All that illuminated the room was the moonlight streaming through the open curtains.

  Neither of us went to draw them closed. The hotel had a glorious and unobstructed view of the city, and with the lights out, nobody would be able to see us.

  At least that was what I told myself as I turned back to Lukas to find him shrugging out of his suit jacket and stepping out of his shoes. He undid his belt, and as his fingers worked, I stepped in close and began working on the buttons of his shirt. One at a time, I popped them open. Each one came free and taunted me.

  One step closer to feeling him.

  One step closer to tasting him.

  One step closer to doing what I swore I never would.

  The last button came free and I slid my hands up his shirt and over his shoulders. The shirt fell free and landed behind him. Finally, I could see him without having to pretend I wasn’t looking. All of him. Every ridge of muscle, every rippling vein, every freckle, blemish, rib, and inch. He was magnificent.

  Lukas caught my wrist as I ran a hand across his chest. “Your turn,” he purred.

  He released me.

  I took a step back and stood framed in the moonlight pouring through the window at my back. I could take a hint. I dropped one shoulder and the strap of my dress fell. I dropped the other and the second strap slid free. A slight twist and a gentle roll of my shoulders sent the silky gown falling free, and it landed in a gentle gathering around my feet.

  I stepped out of the green silk and stood before him in nothing but a pair of black seamless panties.

  Lukas soaked in the sight of me. His eyes roamed the length of my body several times over before he discarded his pants and closed the distance between us in four long strides. He stopped inches away and reached upward. His hand hovered in front of my face, tracing the air around my jaw and hovering over my lips.

  All I could hear was the sound of my own uneven breaths.

  “Touch me,” I whispered. “Please.”

  Lukas’ thumb grazed my lower lip. I closed my eyes as his touch trailed across my cheek and down my neck. He traced my shoulder and my collarbones. He grazed my nipples and cupped my breasts and came back up to hold my chin so he could pull me in for deep, desperate kisses.

  I needed more. I needed everything.

  “More.” The word left my lips in a half growl, half plea. I hooked an arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down to me.

  Lukas obliged by gathering me in his arms and picking me up. I hooked my legs around his waist and felt the rock hard swell of his cock pressing against the fabric of my panties as he carried me to the bed. He threw me down none too gently and I laughed before he descended on top of me, cutting off my breathless giggles with a fierce kiss that set my veins on fire.

  His kiss left my lips and trailed down, down, and farther still until he settled between my thighs, a pleased sound rumbling in his chest as he pulled my panties aside. For a brief, panicked moment, I realized what we were about to do.

  There was no going back after this.

  If there was a time to say no, it was then. It was all I had to do. One little word and it would be over and we wouldn’t have taken things too far.

  We wouldn’t have betrayed Lisa.

  But the word never left my mouth and Lukas’ tongue glided up the length of my pussy, tasting me, savoring me, making me feel what I had not felt in a long time.

  I gripped the blanket beneath me. “Oh,” I whimpered. Lukas sealed his lips over my clit and suckled. My grip on the bed tightened and my body took over. “Oh wow.”

  He chuckled against my pussy and I wished I’d been able to keep my mouth shut. The last thing Lukas needed was a bigger ego.

 
; But holy hell, did he know what he was doing with that mouth of his.

  He teased, licked, and suckled until I writhed on the bed. He slid his hands under my ass so he could hold my waist with me resting upon his forearms. It gave him control. I shouldn’t have been surprised he wanted control in the bedroom. I was more than willing to give it to him. I let him turn me slightly on my side, let him push my leg back, let him plunge a finger inside me while he rolled his tongue over my clit in the most exquisite rhythm.

  My body tensed.

  Lukas pressed another finger inside me. Pressure mounted. My vision blurred and my heartrate accelerated. I forgot what we were doing was wrong and forgot that I had to be quiet. A cry of pleasure broke free as I came. Lukas didn’t stop what he was doing until I relaxed on the bed, breathless and spent, wondering why I’d let my life get so busy that I no longer had room for sex.

  Sex was glorious.

  How had I forgotten?

  Lukas slid off the edge of the bed and stood. He turned from the bed and bent over to pick up his pants. In the pocket, he found a condom. He flashed it at me with a devilish smile before tossing it on my stomach and leaving it there while he stripped out of his boxers.

  I couldn’t tear my gaze from his cock when it sprang free.

  He grabbed me under my knees and dragged me to the end with him, letting my ass hang off the edge and supporting me with a knee under my right thigh as he stroked his cock. He plucked the condom from where it rested on my stomach, tore it open, and discarded the wrapper on the floor. He rolled the rubber on and dropped his hips to rub the length of his cock up and down my swollen pussy.

  “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks,” he growled as he planted his hands on the mattress on either side of my head. “And it wasn’t nearly as good in my head as this is.”

  “Just shut up and fuck me,” I managed to say.

  The look of sheer lust on his face made my insides tighten.

  Lukas gave me what I wanted. He slid inside me. I was wet and needy, and even though he was bigger than I could imagine, I took him. It hurt only briefly, and he waited for me to adjust to him before he began working his hips in a slow thrusting rhythm.

  I gripped his forearms on either side of my head as he plunged in and out of me. My ass still hung half off the bed, and the momentum of his thrusts worked with the balancing act. I was forced up against him every time he drove down.

  The combination was exquisite. My toes curled. I couldn’t lose control this quickly. I had to hold on. I had to keep it together.

  But what he was doing felt so good. Too good.

  My back arched and my nails bit into the skin on his forearms. Lukas dropped lower and I met him with a kiss. His breath was sharp and hot against my cheek when he nudged my face to the side to pinch my earlobe between his teeth. A fluttery sigh escaped me that made him growl in response.

  The sound pushed me over the edge.

  I stifled my cry in his shoulder when I came. He bucked harder and deeper until he too lost control. His thrust slowed as our orgasms ebbed away, and he pulled back to look down at me.

  I swallowed and closed my eyes when he pulled out and went into the bathroom to clean up.

  Lying alone on the bed, my afterglow didn’t last long before my mind went into overdrive.

  We weren’t supposed to do this. He was my best friend’s brother. He was off limits. It didn’t matter how good the sex was or whether it was the best sex of my life. What mattered was the damage this affair could have on other people and our reputations.

  Our careers.

  I sat up and raked my fingers through my hair as I let my legs dangle off the end of the bed. My toes were cramped after being curled. I wiggled them, but that only made it worse, so I hopped off the bed and stood flat footed while I listened to the water run in the bathroom.

  Feelings floated around in my belly that I knew I shouldn’t have. They were too strong. Too misplaced. It made no sense for me to feel the way about Lukas that I did. The risks were too high. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he was only using me to work with Lisa and improve the way the public perceived him? Was I just a means to an end?

  I hurried to put my dress back on and fix my panties and hair.

  I didn’t want another short-term hookup. What happened tonight could not happen again. If I was going to be smart about this, I needed to build a wall between us. Otherwise, one of us was going to be damaged when all was said and done, and I doubted it would be the billionaire who could have any girl he wanted.

  I knocked on the bathroom door. “Lukas? I’m sorry, but I have to go back downstairs. I’ve been gone too long already. Don’t come find me. This… we shouldn’t have done this.”

  The water turned off on the other side of the door but I didn’t stick around and wait for him to come out.

  I ran.

  Chapter 23

  Lukas

  “So, how do you think the gala went, Mr. Holt?”

  Rebecca Mills sat across my desk from me with one leg crossed under the other. She was dressed boldly in a matching ruby-red pantsuit. Her shoes were shiny black heels with red soles, and I noticed the curl of a cursive tattoo peeking out along the side of her foot.

  I wondered what it said, but my mind was then occupied with thoughts about the gala to respond to her question.

  How did I think it went?

  Well, for starters, I’d had the best sex of my entire life that night in the Presidential Suite. I’d argue it had been more than just sex. It had been transcendent.

  But as soon as Kayla and I had finished making love, she’d gotten dressed and bailed, claiming she had to go back downstairs to work.

  To say I had been disappointed would be a gross understatement. After sex like that, I figured this thing between us had been solidified. In reality, it felt like Kayla and I were somehow even further apart. She was somehow even more unreachable.

  I’d wondered over the past few days since the gala if Kayla’s only priority was her work. It bothered me to think that it might be, and that was rich coming from me of all people, a type-A workaholic for over a decade. But seeing those same habits in someone else—someone I cared a great deal for—made me question everything. It made me realize how closed off I’d been.

  “Mr. Holt?”

  I glanced up at Rebecca and cleared my throat. “Sorry, got lost in thought for a minute there. I heard it went well and that we raised a lot of money. One hundred and fifty thousand was the last tally, I heard.”

  Rebecca smiled. Today, she hadn’t brought a pen and paper but rather a recording device. She held it in one hand, her index finger poised over the red record button. “Actually last I heard, you were closing in on the two hundred and fifty thousand dollar mark. An impressive feat.”

  I plastered a smile on my face. “I’m happy people were willing to contribute and I could play a part in a successful charitable evening.”

  Rebecca eyed me suspiciously.

  I frowned. “What?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice that you left the gala early. Very early.”

  My eyes widened. I hadn’t even realized Rebecca was at the gala, but of course, it made sense that she would be there.

  Rebecca carried on and I couldn’t tell if she was playing games with me to get to the truth or if this was just how a reporter like herself conversed. “I’d been spending the evening with Lisa, who was introducing me to other CEOs and businessmen at the party. I wanted to get some background quotes about you, you see. Everybody likes an origin story. But by the time we went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. Not one for late nights, or you just didn’t want to stick around for a dinner that cost you five thousand dollars?”

  I considered making up an excuse as to why I left the gala early but the thought made my chest feel heavy with exhaustion. I was tired of keeping part of myself tucked safely away. Wouldn’t it be easier to just be honest? I didn’t have to tell her about Kayla and me,
but I could tell her what had been on my mind that led me to drag Kayla up to the Presidential Suite in the first place.

  “I’ve never really been one for galas,” I admitted, “or lavish parties of any kind really. I’ve attended more of them than any man should ever have to in my time and I think I got it in my head that fancy dinners with high ticket prices were the only way to be charitable. Or the most effective. But since working with Good Fellow’s, I’ve come to realize this isn’t the case. The non-profit gave me an opportunity to have some hands-on experience and now I can’t go back to how it used to be before that.”

  “How did it used to be before that?” Rebecca asked.

  “Removed,” I said. “Galas let the rich feel good about themselves for a night. They let them think they’re doing enough when they could do so much more. Now, I’m not saying everyone has to become a charity worker. I’m not saying that at all. All I’m saying is we could all do with a bit of a reality check. These kinds of fundraisers are too far removed from the real issues. Folks don’t even know what the issues are that they’re giving to half the time. And I used to be one of those people. I have a lot of regrets about that.”

  I was saying a lot of things I’d never said before and Rebecca was catching it all on her little recording device.

  She leaned forward and draped an elbow over her crossed knee. “Why do you have regrets?”

  I shrugged one shoulder and thought for a moment before answering. The response grew clearer in my mind. “I used to be the guy who thought the fundraisers were enough. But I realize now that I was foolish, which is especially ironic because I used to be the kid who needed the help so I didn’t go hungry.”

  “Can you tell me more about that, Lukas?”

  “I grew up in an apartment co-op. I had a single mother who worked tirelessly to provide for us, but when nobody wants to take a chance on you, it’s impossible to get your foot in the door and make any real money. We struggled for a long time. As a kid, I thought I had it harder. You know how kids are, unwillingly self-absorbed. I thought about how I wanted more. How I wanted to be more. How I couldn’t bear the thought of never getting out of those rundown condos. But I never thought about how hard it was on my mother until I was older. She was the one with the real worries. She was the one paying the bills and trying to put food on our table. She was the one who felt like she was failing on the nights when there was no food. I owe her a lot. I owe her everything.”