Page 23 of Lorcan's Obsession

"No can do." Her singsong was a torturous tune.

"Why?"

"Because today was our one chance at fun. I don't do repeats or relationships."

If I’d been any more shocked, my jaw would have hit the floor. Didn’t her friend say she wasn’t a one-time-only kind of girl? My brain couldn’t keep up, and now was a terrible time for it to tap out. Tristen was still waiting for a reply, and her tapping heel screamed the window was closing. I had to think. Fast.

"How about a wager?" The words rushed out of my mouth.

Her heel stopped tapping.

"What's on the table?" she asked, a sly smile teasing at the corners of her lips. Maybe she really loved to conquer a challenge. She’d stayed on for the bet last night, after all.

"I get another chance, and you get the best orgasm of your life." Nervous sweat ran down my back, but she’d never known from my casual stance.

"What if you don't deliver? Again," she huffed.

"I will deliver," I declared, punctuating every word. Never mind if I knew how to get a woman to orgasm or not. It couldn’t be that hard, right? Plenty of women wanted me to fuck them, so I must have been a good loverboy.

But this Tristen, she studied me, eyeing me like a connoisseur appraising a piece of art.

"Fine,” she said at last. “Pick me up on Tuesday, eleven p.m. at Club Zeta."

With that, she stepped around me, turned the handle, and left my apartment. Relief flooded my system. Even if Tristen wasn’t into me, she was still very into my dick. My mind raced with scenarios of what would happen when I picked her up at the club. Would she be waiting for me alone? Did she frequent clubs on the weekdays? Would I spot her…?

Shit. I needed her phone number.

Grabbing my aching nuts, I dashed out the door, catching up with her as she reached the elevators. She thwacked the elevator button with a clenched fist.

"Tristen, wait!"

She whipped around with annoyance. Her eyes zeroed in on the sweat-glistened eight squares on my torso before trailing lower to the near-bursting seam on my crotch. The stud button on my low-hanging jeans was still open, revealing the dark patch of soft hair leading to my shaft.

"Eyes up here," I taunted, working to keep down a victorious grin. This was the second time in less than five minutes I'd caught her staring at my wondrous junk.

"What do you want, Lorcan?" she asked in a humorless tone.

"I need your number."

"I told you; I don’t share my number with people I just met."

Are we really strangers when I’ve tasted your cunt? It’s more than anything I’ve ever done for any other woman—

Before the words could spill out of my mouth, I remembered why I was standing here, half naked with aching balls. Somehow, I’d flunked back there, and the fiery blaze of lust that had ignited between us had been smothered into embers. If I wanted to stoke the energy back up, I had to stick to the script.

“How am I supposed to find you inside a club full of people?"

Her brow arched in a sharp curve, but the elevator doors opened behind her before she could sear me with a blistering remark. Without a second glance, she stormed inside the mirrored lift. I followed her to the threshold, keeping the doors open with my arm.

“You can’t take it back, Tristen. You said I could pick you up on Tuesday.”

“So?” She glared.

“How do we meet?”

A hint of irritation dusted her golden-brown face before a furtive expression overshadowed it. Curling her pointer finger, she beckoned me inside the elevator once, twice. Pleasure and fear swam to the opposite ends of my spine in anticipation of what she might do.

I stepped inside, punching the numbers on the digital keypad to stall the lift, and towered over her. “I’m here.”

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