Page 80 of Lorcan's Obsession

"Are you asking whether I would trade a perfect grade for the most amazing sex of my life?” I scoffed. “Because the answer is abso-fucking-lutely."

"Mmm, someone’s been getting a good sausage,” he teased. “Was it that hottie with all those suits up there? Rita wanted to slip him her number after they were done, but he left too."

"Tell Rita to back off. That’s my man."

“Miaow.” Curtis pawed the air with a grin. “I love a good catfight though.”

“Not happening, Curt. But I could use a bottle of hot sake.”

“You gonna drink your problems away?”

“Damn right, I am.”

I did exactly that. I knocked back glass after glass of sake while I processed the bizarre afternoon. Five shots in, I suddenly understood why Fayed had been acting so strange during lunch. Somehow, he suspected Lorcan and set out to make him jealous.

Even in the midst of drunken brooding, I reluctantly applauded his lawyer skills. Ugh, this was why I wanted to keep my connections with Fayed, he was so good! But very different from Lorcan good. And right now, if I had to choose, I was going to pick the man with the pierced dick. But how was I going to get him back?

I took another shot. After downing half the bottle of hot sake, I had enough liquid courage flowing through my veins to go and calm the handsome devil who was angry with me.

Thin sweat ran down my spine while taking the five-minute taxi ride to Lorcan's apartment. I stumbled from the elevator to Lorcan’s door in those killer six-inch heels.

"I can do this," I encouraged myself, propping myself up against the door. I was stark hammered but determined to have the discussion and clear the air. The keys jingled as I struggled to fit one in the keyhole. After multiple frustrating attempts, the damn key finally entered the hole, and the door swung open.

My rush to take off the pinching shoes was slowed to a painful stop when I skidded on the marble tiles in the foyer and landed on my ass.

“Ouch!”

Hurried footsteps rushed toward the entryway, and I got a gorgeous view of Lorcan in nothing but boxing shorts.

“Shit, you okay?” he asked, discarding his gloves quickly and lifting me to his naked, sweat-glistened chest.

“I think so,” I grumbled, staring at his hard squares.

He walked us to the living area, a knowing smirk curling on his thick lips.

“Did you fall because you’re drunk?”

“Maybe.” I giggled back.

He lowered me to the seat and took off my shiny black heels.

“I’ll get you some water.”

“No. Stay.” I grasped his fingertips as he sauntered off. “I want to talk.”

“About your disastrous lunch date?”

“It wasn’t a date, Lorcan. Fayed is a friend.”

“Who happens to be in love with you and wants to fuck you!”

“I don’t feel the same way, Lorcan. I never have for the past three years.”

“And you think that made it any easier to watch him dote on you?”

Lorcan was struggling to keep his cool. His voice was strained, and the sinew on his body was taut like fine-tuned guitar strings.

“I know, baby,” I soothed, caressing his bicep and glossing over his perfectly chiseled pecs. “But all that is settled now. I’m sure he’ll keep it strictly professional.”

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