AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Blake grinned at me. "Well, I'm looking forward to it. Shopping with you, I mean."
"We'll be having wine at lunch," I assured her. "Shopping drives me to drink."
"Me too." She walked tentatively toward me then leaned up and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.
"What's that for?" I put my hand over the spot where she'd kissed me, as if I could preserve it. Jesus, Lucas. Get a fucking grip.
"For being sweet. And for letting me have a graceful exit after I tried to get you to sleep with me—again." Her smile didn't falter.
"My pleasure." I nodded toward her door. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
"Yes, sir." She winked at me, and before I could object to her word choice, she disappeared into her room.
With the scent of her hair still all around me, I went as swiftly as I could down the hall to the privacy of my own room so that I could relieve myself.
Again.
Chapter Nine
Blake
I couldn't sleep. Instead, I tossed and turned, finally giving up and staring at the ceiling. Why am I trying so hard to get Lucas into bed? Is it just because he's handsome and sexy?
Nah. He was a prime specimen of male physical beauty and power, all muscle and smoldering good looks. But that usually wasn't enough to get me excited. It took a lot more than that.
Not that I was excited. I would never admit to it, anyway.
Is it because he said no?
Maybe. It was certainly a first for me, aside from Vince. Maybe Lucas's rejection stung me more than I cared to admit, and I wanted him to see what he was missing.
But I didn't think that was the real reason.
It’s because I like him. I liked Lucas Ford—I liked his brain, I liked his take on the world, and I liked his unflappable confidence. I also liked his green eyes, dimple and big shoulders, but that wasn't the point. I didn't "like" guys. I had sex with them. For money. They were all Johns that way and that was how I preferred it.
So if I slept with him, he would no longer be Mr. Special and I wouldn't be crushed out on him. He would just be a John, like all the rest. And that was what I wanted, for too many reasons to scroll through in my tired head.
Christ. Now I was analyzing myself.
I rolled back over, trying to fall asleep and desperately trying to turn my internal psychoanalyst off.
I did not like her diagnosis at all.
LUCAS
I woke up the next morning sporting wood, the kind that wouldn't go down on its own. Unfreakingbelievable. I hadn't masturbated this much since I was a high school sophomore. That was right before I smartened up and got a girlfriend—one that was just as horny as me and wasn't interested in talking too much.
Blake's hair spilled out all around her on the bed. I stroked it, my naked body covering hers. My erection rubbed against her wetness. She felt slick beneath me. If I didn't watch it, I was going to come before I even got inside her.
Or got to the best part of the fantasy. I needed to pace myself with Blake, even in my imagination. For fuck's sake. I was seriously losing it.
Don't think, don't think, I coached myself, trying to get back to the fantasy. If I didn't get this over with now, I was going to be walking around Newbury Street all day with blue frickin' balls.
Blake arched her back and looked up at me with her wide blue eyes. "I need you," she gasped, sounding as if she would die if I didn't fuck her right now. So I did—I eased my cock into her tight, pink, perfect pussy. Her body clamped around me like a vise.
"Holy fuck, babe," I said as I started to thrust.
"Lucas!" she cried, writhing in pleasure underneath me, her tits bobbing as I fucked her hard. "Oh, fuck!"
