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It’s a fling. Nothing more.
I can’t go getting all weird about Lukas. It’s bad enough that my conscience is screaming at me for being a dirty ho, while my inner goddess is yellingyou go girl!
If only he wasn’t my ex-boyfriend’s dad…
Chapter Fifteen
Lukas
Thank God I have a stupidly long meeting to distract me from this morning’s turnaround of events. Unfortunately for me, though, the meeting is boring as bat shit, and I find my mind wandering.
I can still smell her on me.
Her beautiful scent of wild berries and cream.
She’s sweet like candy, her body soft, her skin smooth. I’ve never been so excited to be with a woman in a very long time. That may be partly due to the fact that it is somewhat taboo, but mainly because she’s fucking gorgeous.
I wish I could give a shit the way she does, but the fact is, I don’t. I gave up giving a shit what people thought of me a while back. I didn’t get this far in business being a sap.
I’m known as a shrewd businessman, a hard ass, apparently, and I didn’t get that way from laying down and getting all butt hurt when someone disagreed with me.
I get the logistics, I really do. But I’m not James. He didn’t treat her the way she deserves and that’s on him, not me.
What’s more, I shouldn’t give a shit that she walked out on me like she did. Albeit that was a first, but I felt a strange pain in my chest when she left mad and a little upset.
I don’t like upsetting her.
The only tears I would ever want to see on Ariana’s face are those that form when she’s in the throes of passion, riding my cock.
Jesus.
There is no repenting from my sins.
I shift in my seat, remembering our sweet, sinful night of hot sex.
My head between her legs as she rode my face. Goddamn. The way her big, bountiful breasts swayed and bounced, her nipples changing color when I plucked and sucked at them.
It’s enough to drive a sane man mad.
That woman can move her hips. She’s definitely a tiger in the bedroom; no sign of my little lamb anywhere.
I definitely went full vanilla on her, though, not wanting to scare her off. I’m not Christian fucking Grey by any means, but the thought of trussing her up with my tie has me hard as a rock as I try to concentrate on the merger that I’m meant to be interested in.
The truth is, I’m kind of mad that she left like that. She worries way too much about what people think.
I have to remember that I’ve got twenty years on her, and I’m not exactly one to wear my heart on my sleeve.
It fucks me over that she practically ran from my suite and high-tailed it as quick as possible.
I know she enjoyed herself. I know she was surprised at how good we were together, at what I did to her, but it’s doubtful she’s going to get over the fact of who I am and who she is and what all of that means. She’s so caught up in her own head, and giving her the benefit of the doubt, I suppose she has a right to be.
Still. It kind of ruined the moment.
I get such little downtime, and though I enjoy pleasure, it felt different with her. I care about her, and there is my first mistake.
The women I usually fuck are just nameless faces. We both get off and have a good time and that’s that. There are no feelings involved, and I rarely see them again. I don’t like to keep all of my eggs in one basket, but with Ariana, I felt a strange coldness when she left me in bed.
I didn’t want her to go.
