Page 25 of Breakaway Heart
I swallowed down a gulp in my throat. All this vulnerable chat had made me want to move on to something more playful. As if him opening up had made him cross an imaginary line and step into my world.
I watched his thick fingers touching each other, and wondered what it was that I wanted from him. Then the words fell off my tongue before I could stop them.
“So, I’ve met Randy Jackson the asshole. I’ve heard about Randall, the terrified little boy. The only one I haven’t come across yet is The King.”
Randy raised his head, and a grin shimmered across his face.
“Allow me to introduce you.”
“That sounds like a bad idea…” I let the words linger in their uncertainty, and Randy didn’t hesitate to pounce on it.
“You know,” He leaned back with a rediscovered air of confidence brimming around him, “I could make you come without even touching you.”
“Hah! You are full of it.”
I was about to laugh, until I saw his face. His stare fixed on me with perfect certainty.
Fuck.He was serious.
There was absolutely no doubt in his expression that he couldn’t do exactly as he said.
“And how, exactly, would you do that?”
“It’s more of a show than tell, Lucy.”
Our eyes were looking more fiercely at each other now. Decisions being calculated, assessed, and made. Decisions or, perhaps, mistakes. But what did I really have to lose?
In that moment, what I really wanted to lose was myself under the spell of someone who knew what they were doing. And Randy, despite his whole thing, unashamedly did.
I found myself nodding slowly, and he smiled coolly in return. The mistake being made. Placing his drink down on the table, Randy moved effortlessly and slowly, without hesitation, easing himself out of his chair and walking over to me.
As he came closer, he casually reached out and picked up a piece of fruit from the bowl on the table between us. Then, when he stood in front of me, he held out his hand and I felt a heady quiver of excitement.
“Come with me.”
10
PEACHES
I followed Randy along the hallway, my heart thumping in my chest as he opened the door to the study. I wasn’t thinking anymore, I was just feeling. And the feeling was one of need. For touch. Sensation. Arousal.
Randy gestured to one of two dark, upright wooden chairs, padded with leather, and placed in front of a wide marbled fireplace. The room was warm with amber lamps and had a smell of old books, long extinguished fires, and the sweet aroma of cigars. The ghosts of time that had already been spent there.
I sat down, and Randy stood over me. A fuzz of nervous excitement buzzed in my stomach as he leaned over, my lips opening for him. As our lips touched for the first time, a swirl of vibrant colors exploded under my skin, the feeling both soft and firm, an impossible pressure that delighted my senses.
Desire quickly threw its heavy blanket over our thoughts, and any shyness quickly gave way to something much more wild and delicious that burned between us. As we tasted each other’s saliva, our breath became heavier andour pulses ran quicker. We wanted the heat and touch of each other, and it dulled all the other thoughts and feelings. I couldn’t have stopped it, even if I wanted to. And I didn’t. I wanted to know his body, to offer up my own to him.
Our lips parted, and he looked confidently down at me.
“Now, it’s my turn to be in charge, okay?”
I nodded wordlessly back at him.
Randy went over to the opposite chair and sat down, gazing intently at me. His eyes traced the soft curves of my legs, his imagination working on him as he reached the point where the skin of my thighs disappeared under the hem of my dress.
“I’d like you to stand up,” He told me. Not a demand, a request. I answered him by standing up from my chair as calmly as I could. I made to make a step forward, but he raised his hand at me with a flat palm, telling me to stay.
“Unzip your dress,” he told me as he casually reclined into a chair, one leg crossing over the other. He wanted to savor me and the moment, and it only added to my excitement.
