5. Lucky
5
LUCKY
I saw her the minute she walked into the club.
How could I not notice her when the crowd parted and let her through, as though she were visiting royalty? How could I not have known who she was? Who she is? How could I have ignored the presence of the one person who turned every head in the club tonight?
I’d been standing with Rafi in a quiet corner of the room when he’d let out a low whistle. When I’d looked up, there she was, walking down a human aisle like she was walking the red carpet, before she took a seat at the bar. Alone. My eyes followed her and stayed on her until Rafi nudged me, snapping me out of my stupor.
“Jacklyn Vicci,” he told me. “Heiress to the Vicci empire.”
“She come here often?”
It was purely by chance that I was here tonight. I may own the place, but I don’t have time to run this shit-instead, I leave it to Rafi and a merry band of his university friends who know how to bring in the lux crowd.
“No. Hardly ever, which is why whenever she does make a public appearance, it’s a big deal.”
His eyes watched me carefully, as though he was trying to dissect my brain.
“What does she do?” I asked him. According to her, she was running the show now.
Rafi shrugged and told me he didn’t know; she was generally a private person and not much was known about her. Then he asked me why I was so interested to know.
I didn’t bother answering him. Instead, I shot him a glance that could burn through steel. "When’s your next semester start, kid?" I let the words land heavy, a silent jab at how much younger he is—my way of reminding him where he stands. But he didn't take the bait. He just brushed past me, diving straight to the point.
“Her family’s been a problem lately," Rafi said, his tone tight, like he was trying to steer me in a different direction. As though he knew the thoughts that were lingering in my head. "Keep that in mind before you do something stupid."
Sometimes I think Rafi is the older one between us. I slapped him on the back and told him not to worry as I walked away.
Now I’m pulling Jacklyn by the hand down the narrow hallway toward my office.
The familiar scent of polished wood and aged leather wraps around me like a second skin. The room is sparse, functional, and everything I need it to be for the rare times I use it. My desk sits in a corner of the room, stacks of untouched papers mocking me from the edges, but I barely spare it a glance. My attention is locked on her.
Jacklyn follows me in, her movements fluid but hesitant, the soft rustle of her clothing amplifying the quiet tension between us. She has that effect—a presence that seems to consume the space, making every small detail sharper. She’s wearing a short black dress that falls just about her knees, the straps showing off toned and tanned shoulders that I know must have cost her a lot of time in the gym. She’s wearing her hair out, and it falls in luxurious black waves past her shoulders, inviting me to wrap it around my hands.
I kick the door shut with the heel of my boot, the sound echoing in the silence surrounding us. Before the latch even clicks, I close the distance between her and me.
She barely has time to turn before I have her pinned against the door, her back pressing against the wood with a soft thud. My hands find her hips instinctively, pulling her closer, my lips brushing against hers, a teasing whisper that ignites a fire deep within us.
Jacklyn responds instinctively, her hands finding their way to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as our kiss becomes fiercer, a collision of wills and pent-up desire. There is fire in every movement, every touch, a resistance that only makes me crave her more. Her hands move to my chest, not to push me away, but to anchor herself, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as though she might lose herself otherwise.
“Lucky,” she whispers against my lips, her voice a mix of caution and need.
I pause, resting my forehead against hers, my breathing uneven. “Tell me to stop,” I murmur, my voice low and rough. “And I will.” I slide my hands down her waist, feeling the curve of her hips beneath the fabric.
Her eyes search mine, dark and stormy, a battle raging behind them. But instead of pulling away, she tightens her grip on my shirt, her lips brushing mine again. Not an answer; a command.
Her nails rake lightly over my chest as I trail my lips along her jaw, down to the curve of her neck. She tilts her head to the side, giving me access, her breath hitching when I press a kiss to the hollow of her throat.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” she whispers, her voice trembling.
“What’s that?” I mutter, my lips curving against her skin.
Her laugh is soft, but it quickly dissolves into a sigh as I press closer, the heat between us undeniable. I want to memorize this moment, the feel of her, the sound of her, the way she fits against me like she has always belonged there.
I pull back just enough to see her face. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, but her eyes—those striking, determined eyes—they’re fire. My dick strains against my pants, and I think it’s in danger of falling off if I don’t get it inside her anytime soon.
“You want to know if the company here is any good?” I whisper, my voice hoarse. I let her go and reach into my pocket, taking out a condom. “Let me show you how good it is.”
Her eyes expand, her pupils dilated as she pounces on me, her mouth locking to me in a punishing kiss. I push my erection against her thigh, ripping the plastic packaging open as I return her kiss with the same fervor. We break away only momentarily – enough time for her to slip her dress over her head and let it fall to the ground. She’s wearing lacy black underwear that makes my dick swell painfully. For a moment, my mind is hijacked as I wonder if she came here tonight with the intent to get fucked. The thought that she would’ve given herself over to any man she met tonight makes me unreasonably mad.
I reach a hand past her and engage the lock, ensuring our privacy, then I toe off my boots and drop my pants. My dick throbs, begging for release, and I’m careful not to cream myself as I roll the rubber on it, then lift Jacklyn until her legs are wrapped around my waist.
I nip at her lip, bite the edge. I kiss down her neck, then lift her higher until I capture a tit in my mouth. I suck on it until her moans fill the room and she’s panting, begging for her own release. I catch the other tit, give it the same attention, then drop her until her skin and mine collide against one another in the most sensitive spots. I push her panties to the side and slick a finger up and down her slit. My finger comes away drenched, and this tips me over the edge. With one sudden thrust, I push up until I’m spearing her. I push all the way in, until I hit her walls, then hold steady, forcing my climax back. Fuck, she’s so tight yet so accommodating!
My dick twitches, begging for release. I move her, and she starts bouncing up and down on me as I hold her up by the ass, squeezing her cheeks.
“Fuck!” she hisses through her panting, and I arch into her, ready for the explosion as she continues to jump up and down on my dick, until I feel her walls clenching around me and she screams through her orgasm and settles onto me, breathing against my neck. I follow her, roaring through my own climax as her nails dig into my shoulders and she holds onto me like her life depends on this moment.
Jacklyn Vicci really doesn’t like to talk about herself.
After she uses my private bathroom to freshen up, she wraps her hair in a tie she brings out of her clutch and heads for the door. I catch her by the waist and lift her off her feet, bringing her back towards me, and we fall onto the couch, with her sitting sideways on my lap.
“What’s the rush?” I ask her. “You came out to unwind, and now you’re in a hurry to leave?”
She smiles gently and pushes a finger into my chest, putting some space between us.
“I have someone waiting outside for me.”
I’m quiet as I look at her. I know she came alone. She sees the look on my face and explains that her bodyguards are waiting for her outside in the car.
“So, let them wait,” I shrug. And I’m somewhat relieved, no matter how stupid it may seem, that it’s not a husband or boyfriend that’s waiting for her. I hold her firmly around the waist as we watch each other silently. This woman. “Stay the night,” I suggest.
Her lips quirk in a faint, knowing smile, the kind that doesn’t reach her eyes. She presses a finger into my chest, creating just enough distance to remind me she’s not one to be cornered. “I don’t stay in one place too long, Lucky. You’ll learn that about me.”
“That so?” I ask, my hand still resting lightly on her waist. “Sounds exhausting, never standing still.”
She studies me for a moment, her eyes sharp, unyielding. “It’s necessary. Some of us don’t have the luxury of letting our guard down.”
I chuckle softly, shaking my head before I give her a knowing smile. “Ah. So you’re the type who doesn’t just hold the reins; you keep them knotted tight, don’t you?”
“And you don’t?” she counters, arching an elegant brow.
I grin, not bothering to hide the edge of flirtation in my tone. “Oh, I know when to loosen them. Sometimes, that’s the only way to get what you want.”
“Spoken like a man who’s used to people giving in to him.”
“Maybe,” I admit, holding her gaze. “But I also know it doesn’t work on everyone.”
Her eyes narrow slightly, but the corners of her lips twitch upward in a faint smirk. “Good. I’d hate to be predictable.”
“You’re far from predictable, Jacklyn,” I say, letting her name roll off my tongue deliberately. She stiffens at the sound, just enough for me to notice.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence stretches, taut like a string pulled to its limit. Her eyes search mine, looking for… what? Weakness? An angle? Or maybe just a reason to stay a little longer.
“You talk a lot about letting go,” she says finally, her tone sharp but her voice quieter now. “But I don’t think you’re as free as you like to pretend you are.”
Her words hit like a calculated strike, and I can’t help the short laugh that escapes me. “Touché. Maybe I like control more than I let on.”
“Maybe,” she echoes, tilting her head slightly, her hair falling in a loose wave over one shoulder. “But control is a funny thing. The harder you hold on, the easier it slips through your fingers.”
Her words linger between us, heavy with double meaning.
“Is that a warning?” I ask, my voice dropping lower.
Her lips curve into a slow, deliberate smile. “It’s an observation.”
“And what would you do, Jacklyn, if someone managed to take the reins from you?” I press, my hand sliding a fraction lower on her waist, testing her reaction.
Her smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes sharpen like a blade. “No one takes them from me, Lucky. Not without a fight.”
The way she says it is both a challenge and a promise, and it leaves me wondering whether I’d survive the attempt—or if I even care.
“So why don’t you tell me who the real Jacklyn Vicci is. Other than the fact that you like to keep your world tightly controlled…” I pause, trailing my thumb in a small circle against her hip, “I don’t know anything else about you.”
Her smile falters, her expression guarded. For a split second, I think I’ve lost her, that I’ve asked for too much, but then she surprises me by leaning in, her voice low.
“There’s nothing to tell,” she throws at me.
“Nothing?” I reply, standing suddenly and taking her with me, steadying her with a hand on her back.
She gasps at the sudden movement, her hands instinctively clutching my shoulders. “What are you doing!” she laughs, but there’s a rare looseness to her tone, as though she’s allowing herself to surrender to the moment, if only for a fleeting second.
I set her down on the ground and close the space between us until we’re face to face and breath to breath.
She’s intoxicating, a mixture of sharp edges and smooth grace, and I can’t tell if she’s mocking me or surrendering when she smiles at me, but it doesn’t matter. All I know is that the room feels alive for the first time since she walked into it.
“Ready to go again?” she teases, twirling away before snapping back to face me. Her face is flushed, her breath slightly quicker.
I smirk, stepping closer until our bodies are sliding up against each other. “Oh, I’m just getting started, sweetheart.”
Her gaze locks on mine, and for once, there’s no mask, no pretense. Just Jacklyn. And in that moment, I wonder if I’ve ever been as captivated by anything—or anyone—in my life.