Page 90 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
Hercules puts his hand on my back. “I was escorting Lark to the lobby.”
“Is that it?” Mason asks, sounding kind of snappy.
“Yeah, that’s it. What are you doing in the lobby?”
“Looking for you.”
All I can think is that I hope my lipstick isn’t smeared. It’s the twenty-four-hour kind, so it’s probably fine. There’s also something vastly different about the look in Mason eyes, but I’m too distracted by Hercules’s hand on my back to figure out the change. Before our sexual encounter in college, Hercules warned me that sex was all he had to offer me. That was back then, but he’s so easily touching my back the way he did with Lilith. I wonder if what just happened in the elevator means nothing to him. Whether it does or doesn’t, I’ve messed up royally.
I’m already walking when I say, “I’ll grab a cab. Thank you, Mr. Valentine. Good night, Mason.”
I’m moving as fast as my feet can take me without running. I don’t want to make a scene. Hercules says something about giving me a ride as the chill of night spreads across my face. The sound of the wind and ambient noises of the city swallow up anything else he may say to me. And frankly, I don't think he's following me. I don't look back to check. My feet are pounding the pavement, and I'm on one speed—getting the hell away from him fast.
I feel like a fool,recalling how I ran out of the lobby and didn’t stop until I was all the way home. The thing about New York City is, you can keep walking until you get to the point when you ask yourself,Why the hell do I need to take a cab or the subway? I might as well keep shuffling my feet!
So, even though my toes and heels were on fire, I kept going, thinking,What have I done?Those words repeated in my mind over and over. I didn't try to answer the question, because I couldn't. My brain wouldn't let me.
His touch. His taste. His smell. The city couldn’t take them away from me. When I got home, I didn’t turn the lights on. I opened the curtains and let the city lights illuminate my apartment then plopped down on the sofa and just stared out the window. And that’s where I still sit.
We stopped the elevator to bang. Hercules’s large cock was inside me.Did all of that really take five minutes?It felt like less time. Our entanglement was too fast. I miss him already.
I gasp as I hop to my feet. “We’re meeting in his office tomorrow.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Detected
Paisley Grove
Iforgot to call Treasure last night. I try her number as I walk up the High Line on my way to work, but I reach her voicemail. “This is Treasure Grove. Leave a message.”
I grunt, surprised. Her recording is different, more mature than it used to be. I guess even female Peter Pans have to grow up one day. Her standard message for years was “This is TG. Leave a message, biatch.” Londyn, her mother, has unsuccessfully tried to convince Treasure to change her greeting for many years, and finally, it’s happened. Not only is Treasure’s new greeting more appropriate, but she sounds so professional too.
“Hey, Treas.” I look up after a snowflake dabs my forehead. “Sorry I forgot to call you last night. What's going on? You sounded worried. Oh, if you want me to be your maid of honor or a bridesmaid, the answer is yes. Love you, bye.”
Two hands clamp down on my shoulder, and I jump, startled.
“Who do you love?” Lake asks.
“Oh my God,” I say with a hand over my raging heart. “Please stop sneaking up on me. This is New York City, you know.”
She laughs. “Sorry, hon. I’ll squawk a warning before I do it again. Like this…” Her mouth forms an exaggerated O as she lets out a strange birdcall.
I chuckle. “You’re crazy.”
Her eyes are giddy. “So, who do you love?”
“My cousin,” I say, choosing to tell the truth.
“Ooh, she has a cousin.”
“Don’t we all?”
She’s simpering like whatever she has to say is stuck in her throat and it won't come out.
“Wow, so, the secret LC,” I say, smiling.
“I know. It’s stupid, huh? I’ll reveal myself soon. Especially now.”
