Page 55 of Devious Temptation
“Hey.”
When she refuses to look at me, I bring my fingers under her chin to lift her gaze to mine. “Lucy?”
She swallows, batting those thick lashes of hers up at me, and her ruby-painted lips part as she breathes, “Yes?”
I allow my eyes to drift down her body slowly, taking in every single inch of her that I want to devour—want to lay claim to like the monster I am. “I don’t ever want to see you wear black again. While you look beautiful, it’s notyou. Do you understand?”
Her pretty blush deepens to a cherry red, breaking out along her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “Y-yes, sir.”
Flashing her a fiendish smile, I slide my hands into my pockets to keep myself from backing her into the hotel room and painting every inch of her flesh withme.
“Such a good girl,” I whisper, loving the way her breath hitches and her breasts heave against the tight fabric encasing them.
With every ounce of strength I possess, I turn away anddon’t look back as I wait for the elevator to take me far away from the tempting woman.
Heaving a sigh, I step into the metal box and wait to turn around until the doors shut behind me. One thing is very clear: This weekend will either end with my balls as blue as a Smurf or as deep inside her as possible while my resolve goes on an extended vacation.
Twenty
As a forumabout the trending market report on rental increases comes to a close, Dorsen approaches me with a look of uncertainty. “Hey, so uh, I hope this isn’t weird or anything, but I was wondering if you knew if Lucy is seeing anyone?”
Irritation prickles down my spine, licking at my nerve endings, and I surprise myself when I answer him honestly. “To my knowledge, no, she’s not seeing anyone.”
“Damn lucky for me then, eh?” He waggles his eyebrows. “Do you mind if I take her to dinner tonight?”
“Didn’t realize you were into teenagers, Dorsen,” I grumble, lifting my gaze to catch a pretty blonde peering at me over his shoulder. She’s talking to a brunette, and they’re both looking at me like they’re deciding who will approach me.
“Aww, come on. You have eyes, Lawson. She’s a total knockout. If Clemmens hadn’t kept me wrapped up all night kissing the Los Angeles branch’s ass, I’d have taken her back to my room.”
My eyes veer to his slowly, an unamused glare settling over my face. “Lucy isn’t that type of girl. So, if that’s what you’re looking for—a quick conference fuck—you can forget it.”
“That’s not the type of girl you fuck and leave in a hotel room on a weekend. That’s wifey right there, Law.” He chucks my shoulder like we’re pals. We aren’t good enough friends—merely work acquaintances—for him to use a nickname with me. And I find his definition of Lucy extremely bothersome.
Like I don’t know she’s wife material? Any man would be fucking lucky to have her on his arm.
I’ve been replaying last night over and over again in my mind. I could have pushed her into that hotel room, and she would have let me have my way with her—let me ravish her body until she was a puddle in the middle of the bed. But I know myself. I would have left and tried to say it didn’t mean anything.
I would have fucked things up between us for good.
I’m confusingmyselfwith my conflicting emotions. I can’t even begin to fathom how she’s feeling.
One thing I know for certain, though? She won’t give Dorsen the time of day.
“Put in a good word for me, eh?” He elbows my ribs. “Maybe I’ll be taking her off your hands by the time the next big party rolls around.”
As he walks off, the blonde approaches me. “Lawson Morgan! It’s so good to see you!” She presses up on her toes to kiss my cheek as she grips my bicep for balance.
“You as well…” I nod politely, unsure if I’m supposed to know who this woman is.
“Judy Bell, we met in New York last summer. I’m an acquaintance of Jules’.”
Quickly, I search my memory, but come up short, so I lie, “Ah. That’s right. How are you?”
“Dying to finish that night we started… if you know what I mean?” She runs a finger down my chest. “I’m in room 1375 if you want to… catch up.”
The insinuation that anything happened between us last year makes me queasy. I have better taste than a box-colored blonde with bubblegum lips and lashes thick enough to look like caterpillars hanging over her mousy brown eyes.
Being the gentleman I am, though, I flash her a suave smile. “Kind of you to think of me. Perhaps I’ll see you later.”
