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I’m either being punished or punked, and I’m not sure which. This fucking hard-on doesn’t care. He just wants some relief.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.
CHAPTERTWELVE
Aria
The sun peeks through my blinds, and I groan in a mixture of tiredness and contentment. I don’t remember climbing the stairs or falling into bed. All I remember is eating all of my lava cake and half of Lucky’s while he told me about his Greek grandmother, and I told him what I remember of my own mother.
I sigh and stare at the ceiling, thinking about how wrong I was about Lucky. As wrong as I was about Chase, only in a completely different way.
His outsides definitely don’t match what’s inside, but I’m slowly starting to figure out why. Lucky was shaped by his life experiences, his struggles, and it sounds like there were plenty. Maybe he was always going to end up in a biker gang. Maybe that’s his destiny.
Lucky.I close my eyes and remember the feel of his strong arms, hard with corded muscles under my thighs and back, his broad chest holding me close. I inhale deeply and can still smell him, which makes me feverish and uncomfortable, so I turn to my side and hit a hard wall.
A hard wall ofman.
Lucky.
Shit!
Confused, I take stock of myself—still wearing the pink Yves St Laurent dress and Lucky in his boxer briefs with all the important bits covered.
Phew.
’’Now that I’m certain we didn’t fuck or fool around, I give myself permission to take in my fill of him. In addition to the tattoos on his face—the big glaring one written in Greek—his chest is covered, but he has a huge owl on his stomach. A closer look reveals scars, one on his right shoulder and another small, puckered scar just below his rib cage.
It’s like a treasure map of his life, a series of battles and victories etched across his skin. Suddenly, I want to know everything about him, which is silly. We barely called a truce last night, and now I want to know his life story. Something must seriously be wrong with me.
Yeah, you’re lonely and abandoned by everyone you love.
That’s part of it, but it’s also because Lucky is easy to talk to. He’s plain-spoken, and he doesn’t judge, much like Frannie. I find that oddly comforting.
“Take a picture ,sweetheart, it’ll last longer,” he mutters, his voice a gravelly whisper that’s barely audible.
“Sorry!” Like a scared little girl, I jump up and race around the bed before I close the door to my en suite bathroom. I lean against the door, creating as much space between me and Lucky as possible.
“Get a grip,” I tell myself and turn on the water to the shower. I have to admit—Lucky is incredibly good-looking. I’d gotten an incredible view ofeverythingwhen he dropped that towel. Now, all the details are coming back to me now. The muscles. The tattoos. The smoldering confidence. The half-erect boner that was impressive even when he wasn’t fully hard.
No, no brain, don’t go there!
I strip out of my dress and panties and turn up the water temperature and pressure. Then I step into the shower, hoping to wash away the thoughts before they land me in hot water, metaphorically speaking.
I definitely don’t need another poorly thought-out crush, particularly not on the guy who’s basically my bodyguard. Then again, I’ve always loved a good bodyguard romance.
And now I’m thinking about getting hot and sweaty with the chiseled hunk occupying my bed. The six-pack abs make my mouth water, and when I think of those abs combined with that cocky smile, a shiver runs down my spine.
My pussy pulses between my thighs and I’m sick of denying myself. Since Chase was a bust, and so was the guy before him—and the one before that—my pussy is sorely neglected.
My hand wanders down my body and finds my clit swollen beyond belief. My pussy is slick with desire as images of Lucky’s hot body flood my mind.
I think of him on his knees lapping at my juices, his big strong hands gripping my ass to keep me right where he needs me so he can feast on me. “Oh fuck,” I moan and let my head fall back, and my hand moves faster between my thighs.
My clit swells even more, and I add a third finger, rubbing faster and harder, getting closer and closer to the climax I am so fucking desperate for that I can taste it.
“Yes,” I pant as my leg muscles tighten all the way up to my ass. Pleasure is moments way. I feel it.
“I got you all worked up just by being my sexy self, huh?”
