Page 49 of Manhattan Secret
Lachlan Fierro. That’s how and why and the reason I can’t resist.
He’s that piece of sugary fudge when a girl is on the Keto diet.
He’s the warm blanket when sleep is right there.
He’s the thing no woman can ever say no to.
How did this happen? Lachlan.
Why did this happen? Lachlan.
It’s simple math and though I’d love to be blameless, to put it all on his arrogant toes, make myself feel less culpable, I was right there with him.
It was me who pushed him down and climbed all over him that second time when he came back from the bathroom. It was me who slipped onto his lap after we finished eating half a pizza just after 1 am.
Lachlan might have led me to Hell’s gates, but it was me who climbed over and found myself a lovely little cottage to live in next door to a pair of lesbian minions.
I start chuckling to myself. Oh, my god. I’m going mad.
Sex so good he’s driven me insane.
I should hate him for corrupting me, but I can’t.
I want him all over me, in my mouth again, choking me and cursing out instructions in a raspy tone.Suck me deeper, use your hands, lick me slowly, swallow me down.I’m going to fuck your mouth hard, breathe for me, Laney.
The boy is bossy as hell and I love it.
Even as we kissed hot and heavy at my front door this morning, and I saw the flashes of desire in his sleepy, hooded eyes, I couldn’t regret him.
I feel too much for him to ever hate him for making me weak.
But where is this going?
Where can it go?
To my mind any relationship, even if we take his age and my unethical status out of it, we don’t have a chance. He’s leaving soon.
Maybe if he were attending college in NYC we might have been able to figure something out, but Boston isn’t around the corner.
Enjoy it for what it is, my friends told me this morning.
Actually, Cali said something along the lines of ride him until you kill the young buck.
It’s a few hours later when I’m sitting enjoying my vanilla latte high, while contemplating all my life decisions. Stewing over the guilt as well as glorying in the way my body feels today after Lachlan worked me over better than I’ve been worked over before.
Here lies my confusion.
It should be simple.
I shouldn’t be taking this long to know the right thing to do.
Tell Lachlan it can’t—and won’t go anywhere.
We’ve slept together, that’s it.
His pursuit is flattering, but wouldn’t I feel the same for any man paying me attention right now seeing as how it’s been since the Flintstones era for my last date?
I’m not so sure.
