Page 41 of How to Get Lucky
My senses crackle as I grip harder, stroke faster, a movie reel of all the ways I want to touch her, taste her, have her racing before my eyes.
I want to worship her body with my tongue. Kiss her everywhere. Touch her all over. Slide into her. Feel her clench around me.
Pleasure jolts down my spine, sharp and hot.
My hand shuttles in a blur. Seconds later, I grunt, coming hard, picturing the woman I should stay away from and knowing there’s not a chance in hell that I will.
22
The next morning
From the Woman Power Trio, aka the text messages of London and her two besties, Olive and Emery
London: All I’m going to say is you’re both wrong. Absolutely incredibly wrong.
Emery: *sits up in bed* *puts glasses on* *perks ears*
Olive: Yes, we want to hear what you’ve learned about good guys. So please serve up all the salacious details, like the heroine does in a sexy romance novel when she gabs with her besties.
London: Because you love dirty details served in your earbuds.
Olive: Yeah, because earbuds were invented for men with deep, sexy voices to whisper sweet, dirty nothings into. Prove me wrong. Also, since you’ve heard Dax Long giving it good, then you understand why I go on and on about him.
Emery: After that kitten, let’s have a threesome clip, yes. Yes, we do. But wait. What’s his other name? He goes by the Ostrich, right? Or is it the Rooster? Wait. No. It’s the Lizard King!
Olive: *rolls eyes* It’s Pegasus. He’s the Pegasus.
London: Pegasus, as in the mythical Greek creature?
Olive: He is a man of legend.
London: Hello? Can we discuss real men and real orgasms?
Olive: The Pegasus has given me lots of real orgasms when my hot hubs isn’t around. Solo Os are real. Don’t be so judgy, you dirty girl. But feel free to make up for it by telling us everything.
London: Let me just say . . . le sigh. Le big happy, dirty cloud nine sigh.
Olive: Yay! More, more. Give us more.
Emery: Was it sheet-grabbing, bone-rattling, back-arching good?
London: Let me put it this way. I felt like I had an out-of-body experience when he went down on me.
Olive: So he is kind of a Pegasus.
London: It felt quite fantastical. So yes, let’s call it a Pegasus-level O. But . . .
Emery: Uh-oh.
Olive: Did he do butt stuff to you, London? Please say yes. Please say yes.
London: There was no butt stuff, you pig!
Olive: Oink, oink. So what’s the catch?
London: The catch is I like him so much. And I’m pretty sure he really likes me too.
Emery: Liking a man can be hazardous to your health.
London: I know. Trust me, I know.
Emery: What do you like about him?
London: He’s funny, clever, kind, and thoughtful. And he listens. He actually listens. So, obviously . . . he’s too good to be true.
Olive: Kind and thoughtful? He does sound like a book hero. Do you think if your story is made into a romance novel, we could have the Pegasus voice him?
London: Well, he is quite magical with his tongue.
Emery: Should we call him the Lizard King, then? And does he have any new tricks we should know about? Not asking for a friend.
London: The trick is this—he was just super into it and so was I.
Emery: *swoons*
Olive: *breaks out emergency nightstand BOB*
Emery: Olive, can you not start diddling yourself while we’re texting?
Olive: What made you think I just started?
Emery: You’re such a pervert.
Olive: Takes one to know one. And speaking of perverts, I want to hear from pervy London. Tell us more about the Lizard King’s magic tongue.
London: Honestly, I think he just wanted me to feel really good. That was the magic.
Olive: You are so far gone. Also, that’s kind of how it should be. But you’ve probably forgotten because it’s been such a long time. I think you might be suffering from sex amnesia.
London: That comes after the sex drought, right?
Emery: But it ends with the sex feast. Are you having a sex feast?
London: I would like to be. I kind of can’t stop thinking about him. What the hell am I supposed to do?
Emery: Only one thing to do. Emergency meeting to discuss. Because it sounds like it’s way more than just sex.
London: I think it’s been more than just sex from the first day I met him. He never seemed like a “just sex” guy. Is that good or bad?
Olive: Let me be serious for one hot second. It’s good. It’s also dangerous.
London: Ugh. That’s my worry. He’s made it kind of clear that he’s not really interested in anything more. Because of working for my brother and all that.
Emery: Your brother is hot.
London: Wow. On that note, my lady boner is gone.
Olive: Mine’s not. Archer is a babe.
London: You’re married!
Olive: Married. Not dead.
Emery: But on a more serious note, are you going to say something to Archer?
