Damn it.
“I haven’t been on any dates in a week,” I confessed. A week…ten days…ever since Lucian’s penis invaded my vagina and my dreams…
“Hang in there. Mr. Sloane is out there,” Naomi said, squeezing my hand.
“You can’t get burnt out already. He’s not going to stroll through that door,” Lina said, pointing to the entrance.
The door swung open, and I damn near forgot to breathe when Lucifer himself stepped inside, his face serious, another insanely sexy, expensive coat flapping in the breeze. His eyes found me, and I felt…a lot of unholy things.
“Wow. That would have been pretty great if it had been a different tall, gorgeous, single guy,” Naomi teased.
“Uh-oh, Angel. Looks like the boss is here,” Nash warned Lina playfully.
“Here.” Knox shoved a root beer in my face, forcing me to look away from the avenging angel of orgasms as he made his way through the crowd. I could hear my heartbeat over the music. Electricity crackled over my skin. Every cell in my body was acutely aware that Lucian was near.
“Thanks,” I croaked.
“Lucy, what the hell are you doing here?” Knox demanded by way of greeting.
“I had business nearby. Thought I might find you here.”
His voice, that low, velvety rasp, went straight to my lady parts.
While the Morgans took turns doing the manly, shoulder-clapping handshake greeting, I became fascinated by a crumpled dish towel on the back of the bar and tried to talk my body out of a full-blown anticipatory orgasm.
The band changed tunes, shifting into “H.O.L.Y” by Florida Georgia Line while I tried to calm the hell down.
“I love this song,” Lina said to Nash.
He already had his fingers interlaced with hers and tugged her off her stool. “Let’s go, Angel.”
“Dance with me?” Naomi asked, sliding her palms up Knox’s chest. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear that had her cheeks turning pink.
“Don’t worry. I’ll hold down the bar,” I called after them, still ignoring Lucian.
The band’s lights had dimmed, making our little corner dark as sin. Silver and Fi were busy on the opposite end. Lucian eased closer, still not saying a word.
I reached for my drink, determined to look bored and not at all horny. But my traitorous fingers bobbled the glass, and gravity did the rest.
“Shit!” I climbed onto the footrail and reached over the bar to grab a stack of napkins.
Warm fingertips ghosted up the back of my thigh, and I froze where I was.
Lucian took the napkins from my hand and efficiently tossed them on the spill.
His hand came around my stomach, and he lifted me off the footrail. I suppressed a yelp of surprise.
He slowly lowered me to the floor, and in doing so, I had the thrill of feeling his erection pressed intimately to my rear end.
Finding myself caged between his arms and the bar, I turned. “Hi,” I said breathlessly. My nipples hardened to points sharp enough to cut through my practically useless bra.
He guided me into the dark corner where the bar met the wall and put a hand on either side of my head. “Hi,” he said. His eyes were smoldering, his cock hard, and I was giddy.
I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I didn’t trust myself to be able to stop.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“I don’t feel like making small talk, Pixie,” he said.
“What do you feel like doing?”
His lips curved into a wolfish facsimile of a smile. He hooked an index finger in the neckline of my sweater. The contact of his skin against mine had my lady parts celebrating. “You.”
He’d touched me. That meant I got to return the favor, right?
I reached out and cupped the hard length of his erection with my palm.
He closed his eyes and pressed himself against my hand.
I gripped him hard, and those gray eyes opened. He returned the favor by cupping my breast and squeezing.
I was dizzy, breathless, so turned on I was afraid I was about to combust.
“I thought we were done,” I said, even as I began to stroke him through his slacks.
“Do you want to be done?” His knee nudged my legs apart.
That hand kneading my breast was driving me to distraction.
Why did I have to be the one to say I wanted him again? Why couldn’t he say it?
The beat of the music pulsed through me as our bodies inched closer in our dark corner of sinful secrets.
“Someone might see us,” I said, ignoring his question.
His fingers slid inside the scoop of my sweater and dipped beneath the flirty edge of my bra to capture my needy nipple. My legs buckled, but I didn’t fall. Not with his knee between my legs, his hard thigh making contact with my aching center.