3. Lucia
Chapter 3
Lucia
The elevator glides quietly upward. My hands smooth down the black dress he sent. The dress and shoes are worth nearly as much as my monthly salary. Yes, the Louboutin’s pinch my toes, but god do they make my legs look amazing.
I turn around and glance at my behind on the mirrored elevator walls.
Pretty good. I’m not model thin like my supermodel sister, Nadia, but I enjoy being able to eat—at least when I can afford it.
This agreement is going to change all of that. I’ll never have to forgo lunch or dinner again.
And I know I shouldn’t want this. I certainly shouldn’t want him.
He’s my best friend, Amelia’s father, for Christ’s sake. My dad’s golf buddy. He's also too old, too controlling, too...everything. But he’s not my forever and in four weeks I can change my life.
I can save for an apartment of my own. Travel the world when I want to. I can even change jobs, maybe take the leap and move to New York or London.
The world is my oyster.
Just four weeks stand in the way of me breaking free.
The elevator doors open and there he stands, devastatingly handsome in his charcoal suit. He reaches out his hand, his warm fingers wrapping around mine.
“You look beautiful.” His voice slides over my skin like silk, and there’s a warm feeling in my belly that feels foreign. Like butterflies. Strange.
My thighs press together of their own accord as his eyes rake over me.
“You look very handsome, too.”
He smiles before he turns and leads me down a hallway, away from the thrum of bass coming from deep in the club—his sex club.
I blow out a breath as I think about that.
This man has seen and experienced so much, maybe he’ll decide in ten minutes flat that I’m not quite what he thought I would be.
What does he think?
He leads me into a room with navy walls, but it’s bathed in a soft, intimate light.
“Take a seat.” As he rifles through a folder, I turn and walk to the leather couch.
He slides a document across the coffee table in front of me. “You know the process.”
Of course he doesn’t trust me.
But I’m a lawyer and I should’ve expected the NDA.
My eyes catch on handwritten additions in the margins as I read line by line.
“I’m not into BDSM.” The words tumble out before I can stop them, but I can’t sign if it’s a deal-breaker.
“I’m not heavily into either, but are you into experimenting? Finding out exactly what you do like?”
I chew on my lip before I pick up the pen and sign.
He smiles, but he covers it by tracing his thumb across his bottom lip.
“You must get offers all the time,” I say, gesturing toward the club beyond.
His gaze burns into mine. “Of which I turn down.”
We lock eyes. “And you’re wondering why I’ve offered you this deal when I can get what I want for free?”
I nod.
“Because I can afford it.”
“That’s not the reason you chose me.”
His lips curve. “I think you’ll abide by the rules.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry, I can stick to rules, I won’t be catching feelings. For one. You’re too old for me.” I lie because damn, the man is hot despite his age. But this is what he wants. No strings attached sex—nothing more. And I want him to take over my debt. God, it feels so much better not physically taking his money.
He arches an eyebrow. “And you’re my daughter’s best friend.”
“Who you pursued!” I add.
I’m sure he growls, but I ignore it. “We won’t be lovers, just—”
“Two people exploring each other.”
“Exactly.” His voice is low and gravelly. “Take off your clothes.”
“What?” I say. My voice hitches a couple of octaves.
“Take off your clothes,” he repeats and I’m sure I see a smirk lifting at the edge of his mouth.
“Just like that?” I fold my arms. “No drink first? No getting to know each other?”
“We already know each other.” He pours amber liquid into crystal tumblers. “I know you drink mojitos and coffee, depending on the time of day. But this will soothe your nerves.”
“Stalker much?”
His eyes flash as he holds out a glass. “Careful.”
“Or what?” I accept the drink, take a sip. The burn is real as it hits my throat. “You’ll spank me?”
“Would you like that?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “No.”
“Stand up.”
The moment I do, he steps behind me, fingers finding my zipper. The dress pools at my feet.
“Turn around.”
My stomach flutters as I face him in my matching black lingerie set. The lingerie he sent me.
“Beautiful.” His fingers trace my breasts, unhooking my bra like a pro. “Panties off.”
How many lingerie sets has he sent to different women in the past?
My stomach turns at the thought.
Stop it! It doesn’t matter what he’s done before you, or with whom. This is not a relationship.
“Panties.” The word takes me out of my musing. I hesitate, then slide them down my legs.
His hands glide over my curves. “You’re gorgeous.”
I smile as I reach for his tie, but he catches my wrist. “Not yet.”
“No?”
“Open your legs.”
God, this man.
But I comply, and his finger circles my clit, sending sparks of desire through my body. A moan flees from my mouth before I can hold it back, my hips instinctively pressing forward.
He withdraws his hand. “Birth control?”
“Seriously? Way to kill the mood.” I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’ll need condoms.”
He reaches for his briefcase, retrieves papers from his folder, hands them to me like I’m his lawyer. I am, but not tonight. “I’m clean. Are you on the pill?”
“Yes.” The word comes out clipped, irritated.
“Good. Here’s my doctor’s information. Come back in two days with your results.” His tone is all business now, like we’re discussing a legal contract instead of our arrangement.
And I’m still naked. Is this him proving the power he holds?
“Are you kidding me?” I snatch up my clothes, yanking my panties on with trembling fingers. Heat rises to my cheeks. I’m not sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment. “This is ridiculous. You could have given me the paperwork earlier today and I could have stayed at home tonight and not got dressed up.”
He wraps his large hand around the back of my neck and turns me to him. “Stop being a brat.”
My mouth drops open before I shut and hiss, “I. Am. Not. A. Brat.”
He smiles. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you in.”
“I’m not a horse.”
A small chuckle rattles up his throat. “And I will relish our adult conversations.”
“You’ll need to come to my office for those.”
“You are super quick at the replies. On your knees.”
“What?”
Still holding me by my neck, his mouth gets dangerously close to mine. My breathing hitches, and although I’m still a little annoyed with him, as he holds my neck and his hot breath fans over my cheek, my wet pussy is betraying my every thought.
He lowers me until my knees hit the ground. “Let’s see if you can be quiet. I only want to hear your moans or a word of your choosing for me to stop. Nothing else.”
“Do you prefer a word in particular?” I ask. I don’t know. This is his thing.
“You can just tell me to stop, if you wish,” he says. “Take my cock out.”
I know he is testing me, so I follow his instructions.
I reach for the belt on his pants, sliding it free before flicking my thumb under the button and dragging down his zipper. I push down his pants and boxer briefs. His cock jumps free and I swallow at the size of him.
“Hold it.”
He’s already fully hard as I take the base of him in my hand and lean forward, smelling the soap and a fresh laundry smell that lingers on him.
“Lick the end.”
I clench my thighs together. I’m more turned on than I thought I would be. Not that I thought about this moment too much.
That’s a lie. Maybe I have thought of him a little.
Mr. Bridge takes my cheeks in both of his hands just as I’m about to take his dick in my mouth. His eyes are so caring and I’m taken aback when he asks, “Are you okay?”
I nod. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I’m eager to please him—yet this was the most disappointing part of sex with my ex. I hate giving head. I hate not knowing if I’m doing this right.
Like he knows, his thumbs slide over my cheeks. The movement is so delicate, tears lace my eyes. I glance down, not wanting him to see it, but he slides his thumb over my bottom lip. “Look at me.” His voice is gruff.
I do as he asks, looking through watery lashes at him.
“That’s enough for tonight.”
I shake my head. “I want to be good for you.”
He straightens back up as he considers me. “What do you want, Lucia?”
“I want to feel something.” Inside these walls, I could be perfect for him, but I know outside we’re so wrong.
“I know you do, baby girl, but I’ll be the one pleasing you. Not the other way around.”
My pussy clenches at his term of endearment.
And now I want to do this for him. I want to be the one who can please him. The one who gives something back.
I know Mr. Bridge is used to being in control. Maybe that’s where I can differ from the rest. “Please, Mr. Bridge.”
“Ronan,” he grunts as he takes his massive cock in his hand and strokes his palm along the length, while still considering if I can take him in my mouth or if he should let me go home now.
“Open for me,” he says. I keep the smile off my face as I obey. “And relax.”
And when he presses the crown against my mouth, sliding the pre-cum over my bottom lip, I probe my tongue, licking the stickiness away.
I hum against him as he feeds me the head—slowly—another inch and I reach up to hold it.
“Lucia—” He chastises. “Do you want me to spank you?”
Do I?
I’m not entirely convinced I do or don’t, so I open my mouth wider as he feeds me another inch of him.
“Fuck!” he curses under a shallow breath. It’s a rare thing to hear him swear. Maybe this is when he can’t help himself.
Still holding his cock with one hand, he reaches the other to my cheek and strokes his thumb over. His eyes never leave mine as he whispers, “You really are beautiful.”
I’ve never been called beautiful so many times in my life as I have in one night by him. My sister, Nadia is the beautiful one. Me, I’m supposed to be the clever one. The one who would never agree to what I did today.
The one who’d never agree to suck this older man’s cock. But I am. And I don’t hate it.
He pulls out. I exhale, and he presses forward again.
I know what he’s doing. Getting me used to his girth. And his length . My hands land on his muscular thighs, holding me up.
“Eyes on me, Lucia.”
His eyes roam from mine to my mouth as I fuck his heavy cock with my mouth. My tongue slides over the thick underside, tasting him as his hand reaches for my hair and he guides me to the speed he wants.
“That’s perfect. You’re doing so well.”
My jaw is sore, yet my pussy ignores it as I spasm at his praise.
His strokes quicken. He goes deeper. Rougher almost as the crown of his cock hits the back of my throat.
I gag.
He pulls out. I try to stop him.
“You were fine, Lucia. We’ll work on it.”
“I can finish you.” My words sound awfully like I am begging. But if he thinks I’m rubbish at giving head, he might want to pull out of the deal. And now I want it.
He holds my gaze before he says, “Open wide.”
I open my mouth, and he taps his solid cock against my bottom lip again. He wants this more than he claims, and I can be the one who can please him.
“I want to slide my dick over your tongue again.”
Whoa!
I probe my tongue out of my mouth until it is underneath his dick.
He holds my cheeks as he slides his thick cock over my tongue, stopping and pulling back and starting again. Over and over. His eyes close and his head drops back until he is staring at the ceiling.
His moans are obscene and as much as my jaw is aching, I smile because I made him produce that sound.
“Fuck, Lucia—”
His gaze meets mine again, glassy eyes as his climax nears its peak.
I want to say, “come for me” but I know Mr. Bridge won’t like that. He likes control. He likes to be the one making his partner come, yet here I am on my knees, enjoying the fact I’m in charge.
His grip on my cheeks slackens as one hand reaches into my hair, the other under my chin. As his movements pick up the pace, his hips thrusting hard, making his cock go deeper. And then his thighs shake underneath my palms. And I have absolutely no control, but it is strangely exhilarating.
His cock thickens, and he groans as his cum fills my mouth.
“Take it all,” he orders and my throat convulses around the hot liquid, swallowing every drop.
His thumbs stop the escaping cum, pushing it back into my mouth.
I’m panting harder than him when he pulls away. And I expect him to pull up his pants and boxers and turn away, but he takes hold of me by my waist and pulls me off the ground like I weigh nothing at all. But it’s when he pulls my body against his and cuddles me that makes me gasp. Or is it because his cock is still hard as it presses against my stomach?
His breathing is fast, his heart pounds against my chest.
“That was — You were amazing.” He holds the back of my head, tilts my face, forcing me to look at him. My heart thuds against my breastbone as he stares at me and me at him.
His face nears mine, his eyes still dark with lust. His lips are just a mere hairbreadth from mine.
I could shut my eyes and let him kiss me, but this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He’s still high from his orgasm.
It’s not part of the agreement.
“Mr. Bridge.” I twist out of his arms. “We agreed there’d be no kissing.”
He stares at me. The lust in his eyes changes to some other emotion, and it looks a little like annoyance. But he brushes it off, grabs the paperwork on his desk, hands it to me like we’ve just concluded business.
I suppose we have.
“Send me the results and I’ll contact you.” His voice isn’t unkind, indifferent—yes. He turns to his desk, picks up his phone and says, “Miss Simmons is leaving.”