Naughty or Nice

‘Oh, God, Lucas!’

This time she cries it so loud the sound echoes through the empty room—hell, it probably reaches the outer corridor too. This is madness. But I’m all for it.

She grips me against her with both hands now, her hold fierce as her legs spread wide over the marble top. She’s clinging to me as if her life depends on it, but I’m not going anywhere. I catch each wave of her orgasm with my mouth. It’s perfect, heavenly, and as I get to my feet my cock spasms painfully.

Now.

I look down into her sparkling gaze. Her smile is soft, warm.

‘I didn’t think—’ She breaks off, her cheeks flushing deeper, her lashes lowering.

Her sudden embarrassment makes me ache—and not with need, but with something I don’t want to acknowledge. I use my hands to stroke her inner thighs gently, holding her open to me. I don’t know why I’m waiting. I should bury myself in her and be done with it. With this.

‘It’s a well-known fact that women can enjoy multiples.’

‘In general—just not me.’

So I’m the first. That feeling swells inside me and I drop my head. I need to kiss her. To taste those cherry-red lips. But she turns her head away. It’s a rejection. A shot of ice water in my face.

‘No kissing.’

‘Fuck me, Evangeline, what we’ve just shared goes a whole load further than kissing.’

Her thighs tense beneath my fingers and her palms drop to my chest. ‘I must get back.’

She has to be kidding.

Her hands forcing me away tell me otherwise.

I’m lost for words.

Carefully she closes her legs and slips from the countertop, bending to retrieve her thong from the floor. I get there first. Scoop it up into my hand. Our gazes lock in silent challenge. Hell, if she’s leaving me like this I’m taking something. Even if it’s to reassure me that I didn’t dream it.

She wets her lips, their glossy redness killing me. ‘Fine—keep them.’

She smooths down her dress as she rises. I follow suit but make no attempt to leave. There’s something about her I just can’t shake. Call it too many years of absence, a need to make up for lost time, an opportunity to take what I’ve always wanted at last.

I have a ridiculous urge to say something—but what?

She reaches for the door latch and my hand covers hers on instinct. There are voices approaching once more and her eyes flicker in their general direction, away from me. I want so much to read her thoughts.

‘You need to go, Lucas.’

Her voice is cold. Unsettling. And then she looks at me and I can’t work out whether it’s with hatred or sadness, or both. But it’s enough for my hand to fall back to my side.

She pulls open the door, forcing me to move out of the way. It doesn’t matter what her eyes tell me now. She wanted me—and that doesn’t just die out on a simple tongue-fuck or two.

She turns to me, her hand hot against my chest as she backs me out of the cubicle.

‘This isn’t over,’ I say.

But she smiles—it’s soulless—and her hand shifts from me to curl around the edge of the cubicle door.

‘Yes, it is... Now we’re even.’

I register her meaning, shaking my head. Like hell we are...

‘We’re not even.’ My grin is one of sheer arrogance. ‘Not by a long shot.’