Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife (The Harder They Fall, #2)(7)

Soft, but it was an order which my eyelids obeyed. Luke was kneeling between my thighs, his pants open, the tip of his cock bulging over the waistband of his black underwear.

I licked my lips.

He chuckled. “Eyes up here.”

Our gazes met. If possible, there was even more heat behind his now.

“Did I make a mess of your sheets?” I asked.

His head cocked, and he swiped his index finger along his mouth and chin, then slipped it into his mouth and sucked. The rumbling groan that came from him had my hips rising off the mattress.

He laid his palm on my belly and pressed me down flat. “You improved my sheets. They were missing a pool of hot fucking candy made from your cunt.”

“I’ve never done that before,” I admitted.

“It won’t be the last time.” He pushed a finger into me and twisted. “I’m going to fuck you now, gorgeous.”

I nodded. “Please.”

He had to climb off the bed to grab a condom from his nightstand. Watching the sensuous way his limbs moved, the rippling of his abdomen, and that dripping purple head practically ripping out of his underwear, I had never wanted anyone more.

This was crazy. Not me. I never lost it over men.

But Luke was in a league of his own.

Just as he tossed the condom on the sheet beside me, someone banged on his bedroom door.

“Luke! Is the tall blonde in there with you?” The thick Italian accent made Vincent easy to identify.

“Fuck off,” Luke shouted, his fingers clenching at his sides.

Then Vincent yelled something in Italian. Luke responded in equally rapid Italian, his throat and face reddening.

I scooted upright, suddenly feeling exposed and strange, even though Vincent couldn’t see me through the locked door.

Luke turned around to look at me, his hands on his hips. “Don’t move. I’m getting rid of him.” Then he went back to yelling in Italian.

Normally, this man speaking Italian would have done it for me, but there was nothing normal about this situation.

Embarrassment was sinking in. We should have at least exchanged last names, and I definitely should have inquired about his sexual health.

Kara’s voice coming from right outside the door was the nail in the coffin of this evening.

“Sersh, can we go? I’m ready and don’t feel safe catching an Uber on my own,” she whined.

I already had my dress halfway on when Luke swiveled back around to face me.

“Yes, give me a minute,” I called. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He stared at me as I darted around his room, grabbing my panties and bra.

“We weren’t finished,” he grumbled.

I stopped in my tracks, clutching my underwear to my stomach. “I know, and I’m really sorry to leave you in this state…but it’s probably for the best. We don’t even know each other.”

He huffed. “That was the best part.” His gaze lingered on me, and I tried not to react to his hurtful admission. I couldn’t even pinpoint why it hurt, but it did.

I covered it up with a coquettish shrug and a little grin. “At least one of us experienced the best part.”

He strode up to me with a dark expression, and my heart leapt into my throat when he spun me toward the door.

His warm breath touched my ear before his gravelly words did. “I’ll bill you for the sheets.” Then he gently tugged my zipper up and smoothed my dress along my sides. “I’ve never tasted sweeter than you, pretty girl.”

Then he opened his bedroom door and sent me on my merry way.





Chapter Four





Luca





For once, I arrived at the gym on time.

Only a half hour after Elliot and Weston, which was on time for me. With my late nights, mornings were a struggle. But last night, once I’d cleared Vincent’s guests from my apartment and taken care of the raging erection left by the leggy, quirky blonde who’d utterly destroyed my sheets in the best way, I’d slept like a fucking baby.

Only to wake up early this morning rock hard, the memory of her taste still sweet on my lips.

Elliot Levy, my friend since our Stanford days, lifted an unimpressed brow through his reflection in the mirror as he did bicep curls. My definition of early differed from Elliot’s by a mile. He had never once arrived anywhere more than a millisecond past the appointed time.

I climbed on the open treadmill beside Weston, the third member of our trio. He’d have said I was the third member since he and Elliot had been friends since childhood, but I had shoved myself snug in the middle of the two of them, so there was no way I was number three.

Weston glanced at me while he kept up his fast clip. “You look rested for once.”

“I am. I was asleep by eleven.”

“In your own bed?”

“Yes.” I punched some buttons on the control panel, and the treadmill got started. “All alone too.”

On fresh sheets, which I didn’t mention. Though a sick, filthy part of me had been tempted to lie in that pretty girl’s mess. If I had, there wouldn’t have been any sleep for me, and my dick would have ended up chafed from a night of stroking it.

He tapped a button, slowing his pace to match mine.

“You went to bed alone?”