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“Lucas.”
“Hmm,” he hums into me.
“Someone is at your door,” I tell him, hearing the faint knocking.
He doesn’t stop. In fact, he doesn’t seem to care at all that someone is here.
I giggle as he slaps my nipple, then moves his hand back down to slide his finger into me.
“No giggling,” he commands, and that automatically brings up another giggle, until his mouth does that thing where it licks with his whole tongue, incredibly slowly over my clit. Then I shut up and moan. “That’s better,” he says, then continues with what he’s doing. My head lolls back on the pillow, and I can’t help but call out his name as he makes me come.
The knocking grows louder, but my moans drown them out.
“Chanel.”
“Hmm,” is all I can manage as he spreads my legs and puts himself between them.
“You weren’t mine. Did you know that?”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut, my eyes asking all he needs to respond.
“You were his.”
This makes my eyes open wider. “What?”
He pauses inside of me and leans forward, his mouth hovering before he leans down and kisses my chin and then bites my ear. “But I think I may keep you. Maybe.” A soft groan leaves him as he pushes all the way in. I dig my nails into his back as he takes me, and I let him because he knows what he’s doing.
Lucas is a good lover. No, Lucas is a marvelous lover.
No man I have ever been with has fucked me the way Lucas does.
And that’s saying a lot considering I’ve slept with my fair share of men.
“Tell me it’s me you want,” he says, pushing in and stopping. He gazes down at me, and I reach up to push some of his hair away from his face.
I hate that this man, who is so evil, is so damn beautiful.
He can fool the best of them.
When God created Lucas, he said, “I’m going to make you so fine, that women will drop at your feet.”
Literally.
Dead.
And Lucas said, “Challenge accepted, bitch.”
Well, in my head that’s how it went.
The knocking continues.
Lucas is still waiting for my words.
“It’s you,” I whisper, which makes a small, sinister smile touch his lips before he starts moving again. He leans down, and this time when he comes to my lips, I let him. He halts, as if he isn’t sure. He’s giving me time to push him away, to tell him no.
“Lucas.”
He freezes, and so do I.
The knocking has stopped, and now that person is in the house.
Lucas pulls out of me, throws the duvet over me, picks up a pair of pants and slides them on, then looks back at me. “Do not move. Stay in this room.”
I nod as he looks me in the eyes one last time.
“You’ll forgive me.” Then he walks out.
What is that supposed to mean?
I stay there, frozen in shock until I hear talking. So I decide to get up and get ready for the day since I don’t plan on missing work. Lucas mentioned earlier he’s had some clothes brought over and they’re in a bag in the closet. I find the bag and open it. The outfit is long work pants with a silky black singlet. After getting dressed, I go to his bathroom and fix my hair. Once it’s styled enough, I walk back into the bedroom to find Lucas sitting on the bed, with the door open.
“Plans have changed,” he states, standing and walking to his closet. He gets dressed, and I watch him, confused by his words. When he turns back to me, he’s doing up his buttons. “You should leave.”
“Okay.” I reach for my cell and walk out of his bedroom with a little bit of anger, pain and rejection hitting me at his words. I stop short at the sight before me blocking the front door.
“Hello, Chanel. That’s your real name, correct?” My eyes go wide, and I clutch the cell in my hand. “I mean, I didn’t really think Mandy was your name, so it was harder to find you.” I step back as he steps up to me.
I bump into something and am relieved to feel it’s Lucas. His hands come up to my arms and he grips them.
“Chanel, meet my father, Malik.”
A small gasp leaves me.
This man is not his father, he can’t be.
I had him as a client.
He kept on requesting me, and eventually I had to put a stop to it. He became weird and made me uncomfortable, so I put a restraining order on him when he started demanding I leave with him and be his.
I didn’t want to do that, so I did what I had to.
“I need to leave,” I say, the words barely leaving me as I try to step back.
