Chapter 9 #2
God, those muscles.
I remembered the way they felt that first night—hard, sculpted, perfect. Touching them again now, it was like no time had passed at all. They were just as I remembered—just as intoxicating.
I knew what Lucas was trying to do. That night five years ago, we'd shared something raw and unexplainable, a connection that defied logic, as if our bodies had been made solely for each other. And now, he was trying to use that memory to warm his way back into my heart.
But he was wrong.
Because I wasn't just hungry for him. I was hungry for something else.
Something I shouldn't crave, something I couldn't even name.
But the desire inside me was a roaring fire, impossible to tame.
It overrode reason, shattered restraint, and before I knew it, my fingers were at his zipper, pulling it down with urgency.
His cock, hard and throbbing, filled my hand, and it was like my body remembered him even more than my mind did.
He pushed himself inside me in one swift motion, and I gasped, my mouth falling open as he filled me completely.
He kissed me on my neck, giving me gentle love bites.
The sensation sent a jolt of ecstasy through my entire being.
He took me right there, on the table, fast and fierce.
It wasn't like the powerful, soul-deep lovemaking we'd shared five years ago.
This was something else. It was raw, blissful, urgent.
But that didn't make it any less intoxicating.
Every thrust sent fresh waves of pleasure crashing through me.
Lucas held onto the table's edge, bracing himself as he drove into me with focused intensity.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring him to me, drawing him deeper, needing more.
My body clenched around him, pleasure tightening and tightening until it finally burst inside me, a wild release that made me bite down hard on my tongue just to keep from crying out his name.
Lucas grunted as he came, spilling himself into me, his movements slowing as he let the release wash over him.
As reality slowly returned, I found myself sitting on the conference table, skirt hiked up, blouse half-unbuttoned, Lucas standing between my legs with his forehead pressed against mine. His breathing was ragged, matching my own.
"That... shouldn't have happened," I managed, though I made no move to push him away.
"But it did," he replied, his voice rough with satisfaction. "And we both know it's been inevitable since the moment you walked back into town."
The truth of his words stung, even as I tried to gather the shattered pieces of my resolve. "This changes nothing, Lucas. I still work for Victor. I still have a life separate from you."
"For now," he conceded, stepping back to straighten his clothing. As he did, I noticed him pocket something—the elastic band that had held my hair up, now lying abandoned on the table.
"What are you doing?" I asked, sliding off the table and quickly fixing my appearance.
"Insurance," he replied with a wolfish smile, pocketing my hair tie. "A reminder of what just happened, in case you try to convince yourself it was another mistake."
I narrowed my eyes, smoothing my skirt down with as much dignity as I could muster. "It was a mistake. One that won't be repeated."
"Keep telling yourself that," he said, looking far too pleased with himself. "But I'd suggest canceling your dinner with Victor tonight. Unless you want him to see the marks I just left on your neck."
My hand flew to my throat, finding tender spots where his mouth had been. "You did that on purpose," I accused.
"Of course I did," Lucas admitted without a hint of remorse.
"I'm not playing games, Alison. I have spent most of my life chasing the wrong thing, so hungry for status that I lost sight of what was most important.
You. I don't care for anything but you, Alison.
I want you back in my life, and I'm willing to fight for that—even if the opponent is Victor Chen. "
"I'm not a prize to be won," I snapped, gathering my purse and tablet.
"No," he agreed, surprising me. "You're far more than that. You're the woman I let slip away once before. I won't make that mistake again."
I stared at him, momentarily speechless at the raw honesty in his voice. "I need to go."
Lucas nodded, making no move to stop me this time. "Go to your meeting with Victor. But remember what just happened between us. And Alison?" His voice dropped lower, a warning in its depths. "Stay away from Victor outside of work. He's not what he seems."
"That's rich, coming from you," I retorted, hand on the doorknob.
"I've never pretended to be anything other than what I am," Lucas countered. "Can Victor say the same?"
Without answering, I left the conference room, quickly making my way through the café and out onto the street. My phone showed three missed calls from Victor, but I ignored them, needing a moment to compose myself.
What had just happened? After five years of building walls around my heart, of raising my son alone, of convincing myself that I was over Lucas Hawkins—I'd fallen back into his arms at the first opportunity.
And worse, much worse, I'd loved every second of it.
My phone rang again—Victor, no doubt wondering where I was. I took a deep breath, straightened my jacket, and answered with as much professionalism as I could muster.
"Victor, I apologize for the delay. I'm on my way to the office now."
"Are you all right?" His voice held genuine concern. "What did Lucas want?"
I thought of Lucas's warning, of the marks on my neck, of my hair tie in his pocket. "Nothing important," I lied. "Just trying to intimidate the competition."
"That sounds like him," Victor agreed. "We'll discuss countermeasures at the office."
"Of course," I said automatically, even as I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.