Page 41 of Lorcan's Obsession

I schooled myself before walking with two mugs in hand and taking a seat across from her. I gawped at her glorious mouth that I'd just—

Calm yourself.

She opened her mouth to lip-sync "thank you" but winced and gave me an appreciative nod instead.

"I'm sorry for the pain." I meant it in sympathy, but honestly, I was curious how bad it was. She rolled her eyes and smiled while dropping her head back. Distracting me, briefly, as I recalled how stunning her hair looked on that very same buttery soft leather couch while she teetered on the edge with her mouth open...

I shook my head out of the stupor.

"Text-to-speech?" I suggested.

Tristen reached for her phone and began typing.

Siri: Thanks for the tea.

"It was my pleasure making it." I winked at her as the fiery green in her eyes mellowed, and she smiled at me. "That was the best blowjob I ever had."

Siri: Stop blowing hot air up my ass, Lorcan.

"Language, Siri! I'm trying to have a serious conversation with my girl."

Tristen chuckled silently, shaking her head. I smirked at her, enjoying the inside joke we shared. She looked so adorable. But then, she shifted her body away, facing those floor-to-ceiling windows, effectively ending the conversation.

Did she not believe me?

In a single leap, I bounded to her chair and straddled her, setting my knees on each side of her luscious hips. Tenderly, I turned her face to mine and cupped it in my palm. Blue specks adorned her curious eyes as Tristen gazed up at me. She was confident in her skin. She owned her power. But at this moment, she doubted my honesty because my playboy history made me an accomplice to full of crap.

I trailed featherlight kisses along her jawline. "Tristen, I will never say sweet things to you just to make you feel better or to keep you around me. I will always be honest with you, even when my intentions seem selfish, like yesterday when I ripped your dress so you’d stay the night.”

Her eyes widened like dinner plates, but thanks to my hard work down her throat, I was safe from her reprimand for now.

"I’m a work in progress, Tristen. A huge work in progress. But being around you keeps me on my toes, and I like that."

Tristen cupped my cheeks, caressing my five o'clock shadow as she chewed on her plump lip. A thoughtful expression danced across her features, her eyes slowly rising to meet mine. I pressed a tender kiss against her nose before I continued.

"So I'm gonna bring my A-game, Tristen, and we'll pump and dump together?"

Tristen nodded with a smile, resting her head against my chest. After spoiling her rotten with kisses, I cuddled her, stroking her soft hair while we selected a movie to watch on my large TV screen. If it were up to me, we’d stay like this forever.

But life was never as we wanted it to be. Here I was, halfway around the world, doing everything I could to get my father’s approval. And as if that wasn’t enough, my eyes had landed on the hottest piece of ass that was more commitment-phobic than me. Chasing her wouldn’t be a sprint. It would be a goddamn painstaking marathon.

“Now,” I said, “while you do look stunning in my T-shirt, how about we get you some decent clothes?”

17

TM'D

Thank fuck we’d already eaten breakfast because there was no way I'd be swallowing anything after that.

Lorcan had been adamant about taking me home. According to him, my aching throat meant I was unwell and needed tender love and care. He called the concierge service, and after arguing about fashion with Siri as my go-between, he ordered lounge athleisure wear and sneakers from the mall attached to his building. I hadn't done the walk of shame in forever, and ironically, him ripping my dress saved my ass. Coming out of his place in loungewear looked way less slutty and suspicious than my day-old party dress. Once I was presentable, I called my driver to come around. Lorcan walked me downstairs where the car service was waiting.

You should just share your contact already, a small voice whispered. The man is inside your brain and under your skin. The only place he hasn't pitched his tent is in between your legs.

That voice could pack its bags and go to Hawaii. Long-term, meaningful connections weren’t for me. I'd vowed to control my fate, and falling in love was a life sentence. That foolishness nearly cost me my life once before, and I could never make that mistake again.

A grinning driver stood beside his gray Lexus 350—the standard private taxi car in Dubai. My friends and I regarded Samir like an adopted dad to a bunch of misfits who had found friendship and a home in a different country. Nine times out of ten, Samir would know where any of us were on a given day.

Coming up to the car, Samir held the backseat door open, curiosity written all over his face. He’d chauffeured me around enough to know that I always came out alone. Why was a tall, handsome man walking beside me today? And any other day, I’d have launched into a tasteful explanation, but right now, I couldn’t even say hello without wincing in pain.

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