Page 20 of Yanked (Frenched 1.50)
“Fuck that. Now that you’re here, I don’t care about seeing anyone but you. I want to take you to dinner. Or eat you for dinner.” His hand was wandering over my hip, but I didn’t want to gloss over this issue with sex.
“You never want to bring me around your friends, Lucas. Why is that?”
He sighed, removing his hand. “Because when you’re here, I want you all to myself, Mia. We have so little time together. I don’t want to waste it paying attention to anyone else.”
“But it makes me feel bad, like I’m not really part of your life. Like I’m just something on the side and you don’t ever intend to let me in.” I got to my knees and sat back on my heels. “I love you. I want to know your friends, and I want them to know me.”
He looked at me a
moment. “OK.”
I blinked. “OK?”
“Sure. If you want to meet some of my friends, we can hook up with them for drinks tonight.”
“Really?” I couldn’t help grinning. Granted, it was cocktails with friends, not an apartment in SoHo, but it was a step in the right direction. I could be patient. Tonight, I’d blend in seamlessly with his social life, and he’d see how nice it would be to have me around more often.
Tomorrow, The Talk.
“Really. We’ve missed the reservation, but we can grab dinner before we meet them. The bar here is nice. I’ll call them and see if they’ll meet us.”
I hopped off the bed. “Shoot, I should have taken my dress out of my bag and hung it up.” Lifting my suitcase onto the bench at the foot of the bed, I unzipped it and took out my favorite LBD.
“You were too busy bossing me around.” Lucas sat up, his eyes popping. “Is that a dress or a nightgown?”
I smiled. “A dress.” It was nothing fancy, but it traveled well and hugged my curves like hot caramel coated an apple.
“Jesus. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off you.”
“Good.” I hope Jessica notices. I hope she watches you fawning all over me and realizes that She. Can’t. Have. You. Ever. Again. Grabbing a hanger from the closet, I hung the dress in the bathroom, hoping the steam from a shower might release some of the wrinkles. As I walked back into the bedroom, I noticed Lucas’s tie on the floor near the door. I scooped it up and tossed it at him. “Lose something?”
“Oh yeah. That.” He looped it around his neck, watching me slip off my socks and remove my bra and panties. “Mmm. You sure you want to go out?”
I grinned ruefully. “Yes. Just give me half an hour, OK?” From my suitcase I pulled my makeup bag, hairbrush, and high heels. They were bright red with a platform sole, four-inch heel, and a bow on the side—totally impractical for a snowy February in New York, but I was tired of being practical all the time.
“OK. But I’m warning you. Half an hour is all I need to recover, and when I see you in that dress and those shoes…” He shrugged. “No promises. In fact,” he went on, slipping one hand into his pants, “I might need less time than that.”
I laughed. “Stop it. It’s only been like ten minutes! You can’t be ready to go again already.”
“Oh no?” He got off the bed and came toward me.
I shrieked and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Knowing Lucas, he’d try to follow me into the shower for round two and make us late. But damn he’d looked good lying there with his hand in his pants. Just like I imagined him when we were on the phone. Was he really hard again already?
On second thought, we have no reservation and don’t have to be anywhere at any certain time.
I unlocked the door.
Sponfuckingtaneous was my new middle name.
Ten minutes later, I was rinsing the body wash from my skin when the lights went out in the bathroom.
I froze in the steamy blackness. “Lucas?”
The curtain slid open and his silhouette appeared. His naked silhouette.
“So.” He stepped into the shower. “If I have to share you with other people tonight, I need to get my fill of you before we leave.” He moved under the spray behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and pressing his erection into my lower back. “Although I don’t think that’s possible.”
I smiled. “Feel free to try.”
