What Lola Wants (Leave Your Shoes On 1)

“It’s too bad I don’t have porn-star stamina.”

“Are you kidding?” She moaned. “If you didn’t come when I was having orgasm after orgasm, I would definitely think there was something wrong with me.”

His glowing eyes clouded. “Don’t ever think that, Lo. You are gorgeous and just about every guy’s dream come true.”

She frowned. “Alex, this…” She shook her head. Tried again. “This has never happened before. I mean, I’ve never wanted, wanted, wanted so that I couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe.”

“So now I have to let you gloat because you were right—definite fireworks.”

“Oh, a whole fucking Fourth of July night sky full of them.”

He chuckled. Then he released her leg and withdrew from her. Lola experienced that unexpected void for a second time, but tried to ignore it. This might be the only evening they crossed the friendship line. She knew not to get used to sex with Alex. Not to get hooked on the euphoria and the intense chemistry.

In fact, she needed to keep things as cool as possible if they were going to pull this off.

When he disap

peared into the bathroom, she found the strength to sit up, despite feeling utterly boneless and more relaxed than if she’d spent an entire week at the spa. It felt heavenly to be so free of the sexual tension… though she still brimmed with excitement.

She slipped into her chemise, thinking a clean break would serve them both well, so they didn’t slide down the dangerous, slippery FWB slope. “I’ve got some work to do, Alex.”

He poked his head around the door frame. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” His brow furrowed. As though he wasn’t certain of how the night was supposed to end any more than she was.

“So… I’ll clean up the kitchen, since you cooked.”

Stepping back into the room, he said, “Probably not a good idea. You know how I feel about anything out of place.”

She laughed. “Alex, your hair is in complete disarray and you’re still wearing a condom. I’m pretty sure you can handle me putting the bread basket in the wrong cabinet.” She moved in and gave him a friendly—so she intended—kiss. Unfortunately, her nerve endings jumped to attention over the briefest of touches. She murmured, “Let me help out while I’m here.”

His beautiful green eyes blazed with lust. “Oh, you’ve helped out, babe. Trust me.”

“Guess I’m not the only one who needed some world-class orgasms.”

“I could fuck you all night.”

Desire sparked. Her clit tingled. On a lusty sigh, she said, “So very tempting. Like… so very. But my mind is kind of whirling with some work ideas all of a sudden and I think I should jot them down before I lose them. I didn’t exactly rock anyone’s world today,” she confessed. And felt a twinge of pain over those words.

Alex gave her the bad-boy smirk that lit her up, chased away her work-related insecurity. He said, “You rocked the hell out of mine.”

“Alex.” Her cheeks burned. What was up with that? Lola wasn’t the blushing type, yet it kept happening with Alex. She leaned in for another kiss, but he didn’t let her get away with a quickie.

His fingers curled around her upper arms and he hauled her against his rigid torso and kissed the hell out of her. The ultra-sizzling kind of kiss that had set them off in the first place and made her tackle him back when they’d been in the living room.

As he pulled away, she was eternally grateful he kept his hold on her, because she almost toppled over. She was still wearing her Mary Janes, after all. And her body was still limp and relaxed.

She’d tasted herself on his lips and it excited her, the reminder of what he’d done to her tripping through her mind and keeping her sexually charged.

More danger there.

Lola knew it. So she forced a smile and moved away, when all she really wanted was to fall back into bed with Alex.

“Thanks for the fun night.” She blew him a kiss… then blew out the door.

Interestingly, her brain really did churn with myriad thoughts that centered on the sexy Staci Kay ad campaign. So she hadn’t lied to Alex about wanting to capture the thoughts coming at her hard and fast. After packing away their mostly uneaten dinner, she grabbed her laptop, fired it up, and settled into her bed, her fingers banging out a number of ideas on the keyboard as the creative juices ran rampant—thanks to multiple orgasms.

Maybe hot monkey sex was just the boost she’d needed to truly get her marketing groove on.

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