Page 55 of Lucas

Wifey

I’m sure you don’t know how to make a woman come. They must be faking it.

Oh, she has no idea.

I’ve never left a woman unsatisfied. Never failed to reduce them to a quivering, pleading mess, begging for more, for anything I’m willing to give.

The urge to show her just how good I can make her feel is sudden and overwhelming. To spread her out on this very desk and worship her with hands and mouth until she’s sobbing my name—until she forgets every reason she has to hate me.

Feeling brave behind the keyboard? Come here and find out for yourself.

Fuck. She works in this building now, just a few floors away. What if she shows up? My cock twitches at the thought, and I run a hand over the front of my pants. If these conversations continue, I’ll need to jerk off in the bathroom.

Wifey

I’m way braver than you. I just know you’re all talk. You’re an insensitive bastard, and people like that can’t be good in bed.

An insensitive bastard? Maybe. But I know my way around a woman’s body.

More threats and empty words. Do you have the courage to come and check for yourself?

Wifey

I’ll come to the event but this is the last time you give me such short notice.

I set the phone down on the desk and realize I’m smiling. She caved. How is it possible that I enjoy these spats so much?

I lean back in my chair and lace my fingers behind my head, satisfaction thrumming through my veins. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

There’s just something about Ava that brings it out of me. A reckless, impulsive side I thought I’d long outgrown. She pushes my buttons like no one else and gets under my skin in a way I can’t quite understand.

My mind keeps drifting back to her. To the way her cheeks flush when she’s angry, the defiant tilt of her chin when she’sfacing me down. The intoxicating scent of her perfume, the maddening sway of her hips as she walks away...

Gritting my teeth, I give my head a sharp shake, dispelling the thoughts. This is exactly what I can’t allow. This preoccupation, this...obsession.

I reach for the next envelope in the stack, my mind already turning to all the tasks I have to accomplish before the gala, before I have to face her again, and pretend that I’m not counting down the seconds until I can.

“Lilibeth?” My voice echoes through the spacious kitchen.

“Yes, sir?” She turns to me, wiping her hands on her apron, a smile gracing her face. The copper pots behind her simmer and steam, filling the kitchen with the enticing scents of her cooking. I draw a deep breath.

“Could you make that special dish again, the one with the caramelized apricots? I loved it.”

The smile vanishes from her face. “Umm...”

I frown. “Is something the matter?”

“No, just… Um...” Lilibeth fidgets with her apron strings, her gaze darting around the kitchen, looking anywhere but at me.

“What’s wrong, Lilibeth? It’s just a dish. Did you already cook something else for today?”

“No. It’s just that she asked me not to tell you.”

“She?” I narrow my eyes and take a step closer, closing the distance between us. “You mean Ava?”

Lilibeth nods.

“What are you not supposed to tell me? You know you work for me, not Ava. She can’t make demands of you.” What the hell could she be hiding? What’s so important that I can’t know about it? Is she poisoning me?