Page 6 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

I shoved him down on the bed, and maybe I was a tinybit angry. Angry that he’d delivered on a promise he hadn’t even made, and angry at myself for lifting the lid on emotions I’d locked away years ago. I should have left, just put on my dress and walked out, but Cole didn’t deserve that. Unlike most of the men in my life, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I don’t expect you to?—”

“Hush.” If I was sucking his cock, I wouldn’t have to look into those intense sea-blue eyes. “Relax.”

Cole was a man who knew how to follow instructions, and I sucked him all the way into my throat until he groaned. He was never going to forget this night. If I couldn’t get him out of my head, then he was damn well going to remember me too. Cole fucking Gallagher. A man who was totally wrong in every way that mattered. A thorn working its way into my fucking side.

Shit.

Good thing Marcel couldn’t hear my inner monologue, or I’d owe his fucking swear jar a fucking fortune. Marcel was our house manager-slash-cook, our decorator-in-chief, and a pain in all of our asses.

Damn it all to hell.

I wasn’t gentle. I scraped my teeth along Cole’s shaft and pinned his thighs with my hands when his hips began to buck, dug my nails into his skin when he tried to fight me.

He wouldn’t win this.

But when had it turned into a battle?

I cursed in my head as he shot his release into my throat, digging deep for my self-control. But tonight, it had deserted me. And when he flipped me onto my back and fucked me in the way he wanted, which was a whole lot gentler than I was used to but still devastatingly satisfying, I didn’t utter a single complaint.

The worst part?

As he held me tight, his front pressed to my back, he whispered the words I never wanted to hear.

“What if what happens in Vegas doesn’t have to stay in Vegas?”

I didn’t freak out, and considering how out of sorts I felt, I was pretty proud of myself for that. No, I did what any sensible person would do in that situation and pretended to be asleep.

Then I waited.

I waited for Cole’s breathing to slow, for his arms to loosen, for his pulse to steady.

And then I slithered out of bed, tiptoed to my clothes, quickly got dressed, and made my escape.

Or so I thought.

CHAPTER 3

JEZEBEL

Iwasn’t too far from the Medical District, and there were always cabs near the hospitals. And a walk would give me time to think. Time to remind myself of the myriad of reasons tonight had been a bad idea and why I should never do it again. Ugly, boring assholes were the way to go, or perhaps I should take a leaf out of Spider’s book and venture out of state? She had a little black book filled with numbers from all over the world, and whenever she had an itch that needed scratching, she put on a fake flight attendant uniform and went on a “layover.”

My phone buzzed again.

Barbie

Was he hot?

Me

I sent a middle-finger emoji and headed for the front door. Then paused. This house was a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. There were too many personal items for it to be a rental, and a house exchange didn’t seem right either. Folkstidied their valuables away, and there was a Fender guitar hanging on the living room wall. That had to be worth something, right? There was a signature on it. I considered using the flashlight on my cell phone to take a better look, but I caught myself in time.

Get out of the damn house, Jez.

Maybe I should leave through the back? There was a security light above the front door, and Cole’s bedroom overlooked the street. If he was a light sleeper, he might notice me slinking out and run along the street after me or?—

No.

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