Page 73 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

He corks the bottle, tucks it under his arm, and leads me to a massive master bedroom suite that could swallow my entire apartment.

“Would you mind if I… I mean it’s silly, but I’d love to see your closet.”

He laughs heartily. “Go ahead.”

I walk through the archway to the bathroom. To the right, a set of open double doors lead into the most impressive closet I’ve ever seen. Floor to ceiling shoe racks line the far wall. On the right are hanging racks of various heights. On the left are drawers, dozens of them, with cubicle-like shelf space above. There’s a tie rack in the corner, electric I presume, with what must be a hundred ties. In the middle of the large closet, a settee covered in brown velvet backs to an island with more drawers and pull-out shelves. On top of the island are fancy trays that hold cufflinks, empty money clips, and cologne.

This closet is every fashionista’s dream.

“I could live in here,” I say, plopping on the settee and running my hands over the soft seat.

It takes a minute for me to realize the closet is half empty. Right, Lissa used to live here. I look over at him as he leans against the doorframe and wonder if he still regrets what he did to her.

Reluctantly leaving the room, because, come on, I’ll never have a closet like this one, I glance in the bathroom on our way out. It’s as impressive as the rest of the place. Walking to the bed, I see a picture of Lucas and Lissa on the nightstand. Yeah—definitely not carrying a torch for me.

He follows my gaze then strides over and puts the picture in a drawer. “Sorry. Probably not what you want to see when we’re about to do what we’re about to do. Guess I should have gotten rid of this a long time ago.”

I shrug. “It’s not like I’m here for your heart, Lucas.”

For a second, I think he looks sad. He must really miss her.

“Get the light?” I ask. “It’s time to get down to business.”

Chapter Twenty-four

Lucas

I flip the light in the bedroom off, but leave on the one in the closet so I can see what I’m doing. She sits on the bed and tests the firmness. Her hair is still damp from the rain. The sweatshirt she’s wearing looks so out of place on her. As did the Nike shirt and cardigan she wore earlier. I tilt my head and study her.

“What?” She looks down at herself. “Did I spill wine?”

“I just can’t get over how different you look when you’re not wearing your own clothes.”

“Tell me about it. I feel like I should be at the gym.”

I smile. “Who says you aren’t about to get a workout?”

Her lips twitch with a smile, but contrary to her reaction, she says, “Lucas, I’m—”

“I know, I know. You’re just here for the sperm.” I approach the bed, removing my clothes along the way.

I stand naked next to her, not hard in the least.

My lack of an erection doesn’t keep her eyes from looking, though.

“My cock isn’t too excited about this being a business transaction. He might need a little encouragement.” I sway my hips and it thwaps from side to side.

When her tongue swipes her lower lip, my brain conjures an image of her taking me into her mouth.

She raises a brow. “Wow. All I have to do is look at it and it magically comes to life.”

I laugh as I inch closer.

She extends her arm, grips my cock, and gently pulls me toward her until the gap closes between us. The long, slowstrokes she starts with rapidly turn into faster-paced tugs with increasing pressure.

She glances up. It’s hard to make my eyes stray from the show, but I force it just long enough to say, “Hell, yeah.”

With a twitchy grin, she gets back to work, my arousal building by the second.

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