Trinity

I smile at the last couple of women who are signing up for the Whiskey, Women, and Song mailing list.

“So, only women at these things?” one of them asks.

“Think of it as a safe space, a place for women to meet and not feel the pressure to be on all the time.”

“I like the idea,” her friend says as she writes down her email address. “As long as it’s not filled with lawyers.”

Her friend cackles and they walk out the door laughing.

Wow, this has been a really positive experience. Good people, even with the “mistaken identity” snafu at the beginning, a brand of shade I’ve been living all my life. I’m smiling as I turn, eager to share my good vibes with someone.

He’s gone.

One minute he was talking to Aubrey, the next, the air is a void I feel like a punch. What the hell is wrong with me?

It’s just a hot guy. There are lots of hot guys. And this one is the wrong, hot guy. Too gorgeous and too much trouble and—

“Hi.”

Thank the gods, he came back.

“Thought you skedaddled out of here.”

“No, you didn’t.” He lifts the case of half-empty bottles onto the dolly and secures it with the bungee cord I use. “Ready?” He’s already dragging my wares into the corridor.

I follow, noting how quiet it is in the office. We pass a couple of open doors with people at desks, heads down, poring over depositions or whatever lawyers pore over at seven in the evening. But other than them, no one is around to watch our departure.

Lucas calls for the elevator.

The air crackles with possibility. I’m suddenly very nervous.

The doors open and we step inside. Lucas situates the dolly and then he backs me up against the wall before the doors have closed. His eyes burn into me, branding me with sensual purpose.

“We good?”

I nod.

“Say it.”

“We’re goo—” His mouth descends on mine. We’re goo. I’m goo. A hot, melting puddle of neurons and blood vessels and other things that make up my weak, weak body.

I’m not good at being kissed. I don’t enjoy being on the passive end of a smooch, so I do what any modern woman who hasn’t gotten any in a while would do:

I eat Lucas’s face off.

I can’t help it. One touch of his mouth to mine and it’s a flame to kindling. My lips take on a life of their own: greedy, grasping, gimme-all-the-sugar. He moans at the contact of our tongues and that moan sets off vibrations throughout my body. Every cell is on fire.

We’re both fighting for supremacy here, neither of us willing to surrender. It’s war. It’s brutally beautiful. How wonderful to feel so well matched with a kiss.

I’m ready to see how well we fit in all the other areas. His chest to mine, our hips rocking together, that moment when he sinks inside me, deep and true. I need it so badly I can already feel it. I want to feel everything with this man after so long sublimating my needs to others.

Seems we’re on the same page. We both go for the respective ass grab, and this simultaneously mutual move shifts something. Separating, we laugh into the kiss.

It’s a lovely moment that I’ll never forget. But it breaks the spell and twists it into something else, something deeper as we stare at each other for a long, ultracharged moment.

“Wow,” he murmurs.

“Yeah. Wow.”

The elevator doors open. Aubrey is on the other side, her cat’s mouth curving into a grin. Neither of us has pressed the button to escape this floor.

Lucas hits twenty-five and smiles at Aubrey. “Take the next one, princess.”

He’s back to kissing me before the doors close.

I know there are a million reasons not to do this. I can only think of the one reason why we must: I need Lucas Wright more than I’ve ever needed anything.

I need something for me. Someone who sees me, if only for a sparkling star-filled moment. I expect I’ll fall back into sanity, but hopefully, not too soon.

The elevator doors open again, this time on the floor of his offices. Lucas stops kissing me long enough to pull my case of liquor out into the hallway and toward the glass door of his suite. His other hand is on my ass and he’s trying to wave at a scan pad on the wall.

The thing won’t beep green. Not enough hands, stupid tech…I don’t know!

I try to keep my end up by burying my nose in his neck and licking his skin. He tastes better than the best bourbon.

“Love, just a sec.” Growling, he waves his security card again and the door clicks. Once inside he leaves the dolly by the door. “Should be safe there. But you’re not.”

I giggle like a lovestruck fool.

“You think that’s funny?”

I giggle again. He pulls me flush against his body.

“Love hearing your laugh, gorgeous girl.”

“Gorgeous woman,” I insist. “I’m mature. And too old for you.” God, I sound drunk, yet I’ve barely touched a drop.

“You need a younger bloke to keep up with you.”

Maybe. Or maybe I need someone with boundless energy and sparkling eyes who looks at me like I matter.

“You talk too much.”

“So I’ve been told. I’m going to be chatty, love. Can’t help it.”

I love his honesty. It’s so strange to think that, considering what he does for a living, but there’s no artifice about him. And if there is, I don’t want to know.

“Where are we go—?” But he’s already hoisting me up around his hips as he walks, still kissing me. We’re heading to his office, where I’m gently placed on the sofa.

“You’re sure?” he asks, and I’m surprised to hear hesitancy from someone who’s usually so cocky.

“Never been surer.”

That smile again. I could exist on its heat. Live on its luminosity.

I unbutton my pants, hoping against hope that my muffin top doesn’t suddenly go splat with the release.

I’m not fat, but I’ve definitely got a little extra padding on the hips. And the waist. And the thighs. Now that the pants are no longer doing their job, I need to get this done and dusted. Most guys don’t really like to linger on the buildup, which is fine given where we are. I’m sure Lucas doesn’t want a long, slow screw in his place of work. Something fast and furious should get us both there.

To distract him, I curl a hand around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. His dreamy, answering moan tells me I probably got away with it. My suspicions are confirmed when Lucas pulls on my zipper and yanks down on the waistband of my pants. Boy’s in a hurry.

Then the unimaginable happens: My pants get stuck on my cupcake-padded hips.

He pulls away from my mouth, searching out the problem. The problem, however, does not want to be immediately resolved.

“Maybe if—”

“Just a bit this way—”

“How about—”

“Uh, let me stand.” I do, trying to pull my pants down at the same time for maximum efficiency. Part of the issue is that they are not only tight, but far too warm for a summer day. We manage to get them past my hips…

…where they become sweat-bonded to my thighs. Mother. Fucker!

Lucas is on his knees between mine, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“I don’t know what’s so funny. If these stay on, you’re not getting any, Lucas!”

Back on his haunches, he’s now laughing his head off.

“All right, forget it!” I make a move, but I’m thigh-cuffed by my stupid pants. What was I thinking?

“Oh no, you don’t.” He pulls me back with a tender shove, placing me knees first on the sofa so I’m ass-out. A teeny-tiny thong is all that separates me from undiluted pleasure.

Oh, and my cock-blocking leather pants!

“Lucas, I—”

“Hush, love. I’ve got this.”

Unable to see exactly what’s happening, the next thing I feel is the strap of my thong sawing against my pulsing pussy.

Oh. My. Lucas.

His breath feels hot and urgent against my ass cheeks, then lower in between my legs. Something wet—his tongue, it has to be his tongue, please let it be his tongue—paints a line of desire along my inner thigh. Then the other.

Then in between.

“Luuuu—caaaas.”

I try to force my thighs wider to give him better access, but my pants have me in a bind. This scenario is a microcosm of our overall situation, both of us locked into unchangeable positions. I can’t move. I can’t get off this way. I can’t—

One of those long, lovely fingers traces a path between my folds and makes sizzling contact with my clit. I jerk at the touch.

“Oh! Yes, yes. Do that again.”

He does it again, applying more friction this time. Harder, faster. My hips flex to meet his strokes, trying to ignite a fire.

Things are definitely starting to smoke. My thighs shake and the orgasm slams through me like a summer storm. One second I’m as frustrated as hell, the next I’m sprinting up a peak like I’m being chased. The view up there is spectacular.

That’s when I hear it. A ripping sound, followed closely by Lucas swearing. But my thighs are free with my pants now shoved to my knees. He flips me to face him.

“Sorry—I had to—”

“ ’S okay.”

Now it’s a race to see who can get naked quicker. He wants to help me and I desperately want to help him. We’re both so damn helpful that we’re divested of clothing in seconds flat, except for my thong.

Naked Lucas is about as wow as it can get. I’ve seen the epic chest and the load-bearing thighs, but the whole package sends a flood gushing between my legs. He kneels on one knee to the right of me, his cock jutting forward like a joystick I want to put into fifth gear. Just give that knob a twist. Savoring me, he cups and palms my breast. No more urgency, only a languor that thrills me.

But I know his patience has to be hard for him, so I’m prepared to sacrifice my love of the leisurely approach this one time.

“You don’t have to go slow. I know you must be ready.” We’ve both been ready for weeks.

With a long finger, he pushes my thong aside, lingering where I’m pulsing and wet.

“Think I need to get right in this pussy.”

This pussy—my pussy—flutters in anticipation.

“Oh yeah?”

He smiles. The wickedest, sexiest smile I’ve ever seen, punctuated with a dirty lick of his lips I can already feel between my thighs again. “Oh yeah. I want to rub my face right in there, right where you’re soaking wet for me. I want to drink you down, Trinity Jones.”

I’ve never been so turned on in my life and I just had a top-notch orgasm at the hands of this man. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to survive his tongue on me again or actual P to the V.

“You want that, love?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You. Your face. In my—” He takes my thong and rips it apart before scooping my butt cheeks up in a lift, like he’s about to gulp from a goblet.

The moment his tongue touches my flesh, I jolt upward, an involuntary flex of my most sensitive tissues. This only spurs him on. He’s undeterred. Unrepentant. He’s a man on a mission and that mission is to lick me dry. This will likely be impossible because the sheer pleasure is making me gush. The more he licks, the wetter I get.

His moans vibrate against me, amplifying the sensation of every suck, sip, and lick with his tongue. Invading, conquering, owning. I grasp his hair, pull on it hard. He raises his head and the sight of him, smothered in me, takes me to another level.

“Do you mind?” he pants. “Genius at work here.”

“Get to it,” I demand with a lusty giggle, amazed that this is actually fun.

He gets to it. On it. In it.

There’s nothing better than a guy who enjoys you, and Lucas enjoys me. It’s more liberating than I could have possibly imagined. When I come again, it’s as if invisible bonds have dissolved.

As if anything is possible.