Page 57 of Lucky In Love

Cue me on my knees, crawling across his thick gray carpet, my mouth watering at the sight of his big, chiseled, work of art body. Gideon smirks down at me, rubbing his thumb roughly over my mouth. Pushing it in further, he tells me to suck him, so I do. His groan rumbles from his chest as his other hand pumps up and down his thickness. Using his thumb, he captures the pearl of cum on the tip, smudging it over my mouth as I hum at the taste of him.

“Such a good girl,” he praises with a flash of heat in his dark eyes. I preen for him, his words hitting me like gentle touches. With his hand still cupping my jaw, he yanks roughly, opening my mouth even wider. Flattening my tongue, I let him press his swollen crown past my lips. “Such a pretty thing, kitten. My little fucking goddess. Oh, yeah, that’s it, that’s my girl.”

He groans filthy words as my tongue runs up the base of him as he presses all ten inches of his dick down my throat. I gag on him, but I don’t stop. I want to please him. It is all I have wanted for days. Ever since we made love, I crave more. I am addicted to him. To his throaty, raw sounds as I suck him harder, deeper down my throat. Those wild eyes are full of passion, need, want. That ripple in his muscular body as he holds back his orgasm, refusing to let me make him come.

“Not down your throat tonight, baby. Come here, kitten, come sit on my cock,” he purrs, bending to lift me onto his lip. I slid down his chest, our moans mingling as my tits rub against his skin, pleasure shooting to my clit. Grabbing handfuls of my ass, he lifts me, and I cry out as he slams me down, driving his wide cock as deep as it can go. “Oh, fuck, that’s it. That’s my good girl, come on my cock, cover me in that sweet sticky, kitten.”

Whimpering as I shake against his chest, pleasure erupting as a huge implosion inside me, I have no words. His fingers flatten to my pussy, rubbing at my swollen clit, setting of more eruptions. I cling to him as he fucks me, my voice raw as I chant his name, begging, aching for him to come.

“Please, please, Gideon, I need it. Come inside me. Let me feel it, baby,” I plead against his mouth.

“Fuck, I can’t deny you anything, kitten. Ah, fuck…love how you choke me with that greedy little pussy,” roaring as he comes inside me, he falls back against the couch, crushing me to him.

Once we recover, he is on his feet, heading towards his bathroom. Still holding me to him, he starts a shower in the huge glass tile shower, letting it warm before he steps beneath it. I cry out with a laugh, and he laughs too, smacking my backside playfully. The unexpected sting of pleasure does not go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, I am saving that for later, kitten,” he purrs, kissing me softly as the shower pours down.

Gideon caters to me in the shower the way he does just about everywhere else. He washes my hair, scrubbing my scalp until I could pass out from pleasure. He scrubs my skin with his big, rough hands. Kissing down my spine, he spins me beneath the shower, lifting my leg on his shoulder. With the hot shower pounding down, I come so hard I can hardly stand as he feasts on my pussy.

Lying in his bed waiting for him to come snuggle me the way I love, I scroll aimlessly through my phone. Until I see an article in a local gossip rag that stops my heart. Gideon with a small blonde woman, his hand holding hers as he leads her through a crowd. Above the photo is a headline about the popstar finding her perfect knight in shining armor at last.

Every part of me that was just warm and lax after an afternoon of quality time with a man I believed was my knight in shining armor goes cold. Stumbling from the bed, I tear off his shirt as if it burns my skin. With trembling hands, I pull my dress on and snatch up my heels. Jesus, I am so stupid. Of course, a man like Gideon has a beautiful woman on his arm. He might have a little fun with me, but I am not the sort of girl you take home to mom and dad.

“Kitten, what sounds good for dinner? Now that I have you out of that dress, I want to keep you that way,” Gideon calls as he steps back into the room, wrapped in just a towel.

Thinking back to our first night, I think I might wretch. I came here to get him for a date at my favorite dance theater. Gideon came to the door just like this, hot and handsome in just a towel. I cracked a joke about him doing it to get me out of my panties. Whether it was his intent, it worked. And now I wonder if how often he has used this trick to get laid. To get a needy woman beneath him.

“Never happen,” I throw some of his words back at him. Looking at him for a moment, I am ashamed to feel tears sting my eyes. We have been seeing each other for a few weeks. It was never serious. Why do I feel as if I am falling apart? As if my entire world has just changed in the worst possible way.

“Gemma, what is going on? You’re leaving? Why?”

Staring up at him, I almost let myself forget what I saw. Listen to that voice in my head that tells me it means nothing. I have listened to that voice for most of my life and, to be honest, that asshole has steered me wrong one time too many. Stiffening my spine and squaring my shoulders, I shake my head.

“Yes, I am leaving. Have to be at Cutter’s to cover for someone,” I mumble, brushing past him, being careful not to touch him. Once I touch him or he touches me, that voice in my head will start talking.

Rushing from the bedroom, I try to get to the door as fast as I can. Because it is not that voice in my head I am most worried about. I am worried he will say the right things. Tell the right lies. Anything to have his cake and eat it, too. They all do it. All the men in my life fed me lies. I ate up because it was all they bothered to give me. All the hope I had to hold on to.

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute, Gemma. Tell me what the hell is actually going on. Talk to me.”

Staring up at him, I let go of the hope I had grasped so tightly since we met. The cute dates, the nights we cuddled as we talked until dawn, how my body feels tuned to his touch. All of it was a lie.

“I fold, Gideon.”

Chapter Five

Griffin

Gemma has a terrible poker face.

Last night I watched her walk out of my place with a broken heart. That woman stormed out of my place without knowing she was taking my heart with her. It might be new between us, but it this no fling, no quick little round—no, this thing with Gemma is the real deal, and I just watched her go.

To be fair, I was utterly confused. We had not fought or some big dramatic moment. Just before we had been laughing in the shower, hands and mouths all over each other, having the best time. We always have the best time together. I can talk to her about anything. Share all the parts of me I never wanted to give to anyone. From how I love watching Matlock reruns to how attached I am to Noodle.

“Cover for me tonight,” I plead with Adriel for him to take over with my current charge.

“Ariana is always a brat,” he sighs as he sucks down a cold beer. Yes, this is true. We have all had shifts with the spoiled pop princess. To be honest, he is the one she is the brattiest with, so I know he will do me a solid if he covers. Which I know he will. If you ask me, he likes her being a brat.

“Yeah, she is. Been a bitch keeping her from that stupid boyfriend of hers,” I mention with a sigh.

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