Page 46 of How to Get Lucky
“You told your friend about me?” Her tone pitches up like she’s intrigued, maybe delighted, by this fact.
“Hell, yeah. Told him what an incredible first date we had. He’s wise beyond his years. Honestly, he keeps me more centered than he probably knows. He’s a good dude.”
“Sounds like my Olive. She and Emery are my rocks—my diamonds really. We all went to college together, and I’m so happy they both live here. They’ve made settling in LA so much easier for me.”
“Here’s to friends.” I lift my can to hers.
“Not for the many, but for the true.”
“I like that,” I say, then take a drink.
“Thanks,” she says. “Although, I can hear Olive whispering in my ear right now telling me friendships aren’t everything. Friendships are there so you have someone to talk to about your awesome sex life, she’d say.”
“So is it? Awesome?”
Her eyes glint. “It’s been showing real promise recently. I met this adorable guy,” she says, using the same word she did on our sushi date.
“I hear adorable is actually quite sexy.”
“You heard correctly.” This conversation has taken a welcome turn away from Shouldn’t City and toward Why Notsville. Her voice is pure sex, and her eyes are smoldering. I set my can on the table, and she does the same.
“You know what else I heard?” I ask playfully.
“What’s that?”
“Adorable guys are great kissers. It can be proven in the adorable-guy challenge.”
“Challenge accepted. Lay it on me.”
“With pleasure.” I lean in, gently remove her glasses, set them on the coffee table, and steal one long kiss, claiming her mouth, savoring the taste of her.
My head swims with desire, and I let out a low groan. She pulls back, eyes hazy. “I think you’re right. About us focusing on the job.”
“Right,” I say, deflated, even though her eyes haven’t lost any of that fire.
“But I think we’re probably okay to focus on different kinds of jobs. Like, say, blow . . . jobs.” She gives a hint of separation between those last two words, and it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.
“That sounds like a great job to focus on,” I rasp as she inches closer to me and lays her hand on my stomach.
She slides her fingers between the buttons of my shirt, teasing my abs. I curl a hand around the back of her head, drawing her to my mouth. Losing myself in London. Giving in to this moment that feels so right. She feels right. And I want that. I want more of her.
She takes over the kiss, flicking her tongue over my lips while she unbuttons my shirt, caressing my chest. Part of me wants to stop her—it’s after hours, but someone still might come into the studio. But she seems into it, and hey, it’s just a shirt.
“Mmm. Nice chest. Nice pecs. Nice everything,” she whispers in my ear as she parts the material, dips her head, and presses a kiss to my chest. I shudder from her touch, running my fingers through her hair as she feathers kisses on my pecs and nipples. Her soft lips on my skin send shock waves rushing through my body. My cock throbs in my pants as she scrapes her fingernails down my abs.
Then, in one smooth motion, she unclasps the button at my fly and tugs at my zipper. She slides effortlessly off the couch so she’s on her knees in front of me, just as I was for her last night. She’s a sensual goddess, a lustful contradiction. Submissive on her knees, but powerful in her eyes, the desire to please me shining in those irises. Part of me wants to toss her on her back and fuck her so we can experience that pleasure together, but something else tells me to relax, to enjoy this.
Her hand plays with the waistband of my boxer briefs, and her eyes dart to the door. She seems aware of the distant possibility of us being found like this, and instead of pulling my pants down, she reaches inside and grabs my length. The feel of her soft hand on me for the first time draws out a groan from deep within.
An appreciative smirk plays on her face as she runs her hand down my shaft to cup my balls, freeing me from my boxers, exposing all of me to her. She licks her lips as her eyes focus on my dick, and I swear I almost come from the look on her face alone.
“This is a pretty nice cock too,” she says.
“Nice?” I tease.
Taking her time, she whispers in a voice like smoke, “Incredible.”
If I thought I was going to blow from the heat in her eyes, her dirty words have me at the edge of desire. With her hands on my thighs, she drags her soft tongue up my length, teasing me from balls to tip. She plants firm, sucking kisses down the throbbing vein as her hand grips the base. Her lips and her touch have my cock jumping against my stomach.
