Page 40 of How to Get Lucky
She rocks as I lap at her clit, indulging in every second of her taste, her smell, her pleasure. Soon, her ass is thrusting off the couch. Her thighs grip my head in the best vise grip known to mankind, but even in that position, the fuuuuckkk she cries out is unmistakable to my ears.
She freezes in ecstasy for a breath, lets out several wild shudders, and groans.
Best chorus ever.
Slowly, she relaxes into the couch with a happy moan. I gently release her breasts while blowing softly on her core. As her ass hits the leather and she lets out a blissful sigh, I kiss her inner thigh once, twice, and slowly exhale with her. I take a moment to enjoy this charged, wordless silence, the sweet sounds of her satisfaction, her hums and moans. I rise between her legs, gently caressing the tops of her thighs as I sprinkle kisses on her belly.
I make eye contact with her and smile. She grins back, brushes her hair from her face, and exhales deeply. “That was . . .”
Those two words don’t even need an adjective.
“Yes, that was.”
I head to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, then return and hand it to her.
“Thank you,” she says, sitting up straighter on the couch to take a thirsty gulp.
When London sets down her glass, she arches a naughty brow.
Then she asks the best question ever. “Can I do that to you?”
Too bad I can’t give her the answer I want to.
21
Her question is an arrow piercing my heart.
Right now I’d choose blow jobs over tacos. Blow jobs over riches. Blow jobs over air.
But I’ve got a good-guy rep to protect.
The no forming on my lips pains me for all of humanity.
It wounds me across the halls of time.
But . . . dogs.
“Pretty sure I would love that more than my next breath, but Mr. Darcy needs you. And I won’t stand between a dog and his need for after-midnight companionship.”
“You are a good guy.”
I brush my fingers along her arm. “Speaking of, how did I do defending our honor for Emery and Olive?”
She drags her fingers down my chest. “Can I tell them you made me see stars? Supernovas? Galaxies light years away?”
“How about another solar system?”
“All the solar systems,” she says, still sounding high on her climax.
And hell, I beam.
Just fucking beam as she gathers her clothes and gets dressed.
I knew great sex would be great fun. And this is officially the most fun I’ve ever had. Making London’s skin flush and her heart pound is everything I imagined great sex would be.
“You have carte blanche to tell them anything about how many constellations you saw. Come to think of it, it would be cruel of you not to share it with your girlfriends.”
She curls her hand over my shoulder. “Or taunt them with it.”
I’d like to thump my chest right now. Stage a halftime show for my prowess tonight.
But I do neither. Instead, I seize this chance.
“We should do it again,” I offer. I’m generous like that.
Also, I want her, no matter the risk.
She bites the corner of her lips. Rises onto tiptoe. Brushes a soft kiss against my lips. “Yes.”
One perfect word.
She raises a finger. “And I would like to cash that reciprocal rain check very soon.”
I give a no big deal shrug, even though blow jobs are the deal. “I believe I would be completely amenable to that.”
“What do you know? I would too. But right now, I need to take off,” she says.
“I’ll drive you,” I say.
With a grateful smile, she grabs her purse, puts on her glasses, then we leave. I take her home, giving her a quick kiss at the curb, before I return to my place.
Back inside, I’m intensely satisfied.
And also not in the least, considering I’ve had a raging erection for most of the last hour, and once my eyes swing to the couch and I picture what transpired there moments ago, it returns.
Great.
Fucking dicks.
And this one I’m pretty sure can win the honor of Boner Most Likely To Be Mistaken for a Viagra Overdose.
This au naturel diamond cutter needs some tending to.
I head to the bathroom, shed my clothes, turn on the tap in the shower, and stand under a hot stream of water. I take my aching length in my hand, groaning at the first hint of relief.
This won’t take long at all.
I slide my fist up and down my shaft and picture all the things I want to do next with London.
Her scent lingers in my nostrils, drifts through my mind.
I imagine her riding me, and my dick likes that a whole helluva lot.
But my dick has an equal opportunity imagination, so I flip through all the positions I want to try with her—her on top, her reverse cowgirling me, me on top, me on top with her legs draped over my shoulders—oh, yes, that would be fantastic. And how about her on her hands and knees, me pushing her shoulders down so she can raise her ass high in the air?
