Page 79 of In Good Company

Her eyes light up, and a smile graces her lips once again. “Probably like ten minutes. Why do you ask?”

My hands skirt down her back and grab her ass. “Ten minutes is all I need.”

I’m about to lift her onto the counter when she shakes her head. “No. Ten minutes is allIneed.”

Before I can protest, she drops to her knees, her fingers quickly working at the buttonof my pants.

“Lucy…” I grit out, savoring the view of her on her knees and her big, brown eyes aimed up at me.

“You’re not going to stop me this time,” she begins, undoing the zipper and not wasting any time pushing my briefs and pants out of the way.

“But, baby,” I argue, the rest of my protest dissipating on my lips when her hand wraps around my cock.

She pumps up and down, a hungry look in her eyes as she moves her attention to my length. “I’ve wanted to do this for days now, and you haven’t let me. You’re always distracting me by making me feel good.” She looks up at me again, her hand still moving up and down. “Now I want to make you feel good,babe.”

I know there’s no way I can deny her when she licks her lips and pushes her hair off her shoulders and out of the way.

My head falls backward, and my fingers tangle in her hair the moment I feel her hot breath against the tip of my cock.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life,” I confess, my entire body tight with anticipation over what she’s about to do. It’s not like I haven’t wanted to feel her mouth on me; it’s just that I’ve been so obsessed with burying my face between her thighs or sliding into her that we haven’t done this yet.

Her tongue swipes along my shaft. “It’s about to get even better.” Without saying anything else, she takes me into her mouth and proves all over again that I’m ruined for anyone else but her.

FORTY-THREE

LUCY

“Do you know what you’re doing tonight?” Charlotte asks on FaceTime as I get ready in Cal’s bathroom.

I shake my head. “I have no idea. I was making lunch when Jude showed up acting weird. He and Cal kept whispering to each other. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Charlotte shrugs, a suspicious smile forming on her lips. “I can’t wait to find out what they’re conspiring about.”

I narrow my eyes at her for a moment, my tube of mascara hovering in front of my face. “Did Jude tell you what they’re planning?”

Her mouth falls open as she vehemently shakes her head. “Jude didn’t tell me anything. Why would you think that?” Her voice goes up an octave at the end of her question.

She still holds the phone in front of her face, but she looks away, staring at something I can’t see as she takes her break in the Pembroke Hills employee locker room.

“I think that because you’re acting very suspicious,” I tell her. I raise my eyebrow at her, waiting for her to come up with another lie about how she knows nothing when it’s obvious she does.

“Just finish getting ready so you can find out the surprise and report back to me.”

I roll my eyes before focusing on the mirror again. “It seems like I don’t need to report back to you. You already know what’s happening.”

This morning started pretty normally. Cal couldn’t come to the farm stand with me because of a meeting, but I picked up everything I needed for meals today. I then got to Cal’s place and made breakfast, but when I was busy preparing lunch, Jude arrived unannounced.

That’s when things got weird.

Right after the three of us ate lunch, Cal announced I wouldn’t have to worry about dinner tonight and that I’d need to be ready by six for a surprise.

Never did I expect Charlotte to also be in on whatever the surprise is, but one FaceTime with her, and I’m convinced she knows exactly what’s happening.

“What are you wearing tonight?” she asks, trying to keep her voice smooth. The thing about Charlotte is she’s an open book. You can always read all of her reactions. You know her mood by the look on her face and the tone of her voice. And the tone in her voice right now is telling me it’s taking everything in her to keep whatever this secret is. It didn’t take me very long into our friendship to learn she’s terrible with them.

I finish applying mascara to my eyelashes before I look at her. “Does what I wear really matter?” I push, trying to get more details out of her.

Charlotte somehow manages to maintain a straight face, even though I can tell it’s killing her. She keeps her lips pressed into a thin line in an attempt to fight a smile. “Wear whatever you want,” she gets out, her voice high-pitched and tight. “Just be comfortable.”

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