Page 139 of Manhattan State of Mind

The message from Lucy pops up on my screen:Hey, are you free?

Distracted by the incessant drone of the meeting, I tap a response:Busy. But for you, I can spare a moment.

Her reply lands in seconds:No, don’t worry about it. I know you’re busy.

After a frosty stretch, her sudden thaw is startling. I rise from my seat with a brisk dismissal for the room, ignoring the sea of questioning faces.

I message back:Where are you? I’m en route.

The ellipsis appears again before her response:Near your boardroom, top floor, the little meeting room.

I frown down at my phone screen, confused by her mixed signals. One minute she’s cold, the next she’s hot. If she were any other woman, I’d tell her where to go. But this is Lucy—and so I oblige.

She’s perched on the table edge when I enter, knuckles white around her necklace. My gaze makes her shrink.

“Hi! Thanks for breaking away,” she breathes.

Frustration edges into my tone. “You’ve been avoiding me, Lucy. My options were limited.” I move closer. “What’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to see you. I missed you.” Her words are coupled with unexpected physical contact as she wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m sorry I’ve been moody.”

Her proximity stirs something within me, but I push it down. “You’re acting out of character. What’s really going on?”

Her big blue eyes dart away from mine. “It’s nothing, really! I just freaked out a bit about us. But I’m over it now, really.”

I examine her. Her eyes scream fear, and her body language is all wrong. Years of navigating the calculated facades of high-stakes gamblers have made me an exceptional human polygraph.

She’s lying. The thought kindles a flame of anger within me. I’ve got my own secrets, sure, but I can’t stomach dishonesty aimed at me. It’s part of my ego. The hypocrisy isn’t lost on me.

As if to prevent me from questioning her any further, she grabs on to my waist and pulls me closer to her body before planting a passionate kiss on my lips.

Arousal courses through me when she moves her hands down my body and caresses my cock through mypants. Every ounce of resistance I had slips away and suddenly I’m pressing her against me.

“Right here?” I growl into her mouth, feeling myself swell in anticipation.

“Shh,” she murmurs, swinging herself onto the table and wrapping her legs around my waist. Her hand squeezes around my cock, and thank God we aren’t in one of the glass offices.

My grip tightens on her thighs as I trail kisses down to her neck and take in the scent of her perfume. “Damn it, Lucy,” I say against her skin, “are you trying to make me come right here?”

I let out a deep, guttural groan as she continues to stimulate me. I can’t take it anymore. Hell, I’m actually close to coming in my pants.

“Stop,” I command, grabbing her wrists so she can’t make me go over the edge. I quickly unfasten my zipper until I’ve released my throbbing cock from its confines.

She grips my hardening erection tightly in her hand and slides up and down, sending waves of pleasure through me with each stroke. The blood pumps into my erection as precum drips out. Fuck. I’m so close. My hardened cock fills with heat, pulsing urgently.

Suddenly, she pulls away from me as if something’s repulsed her.

What the fuck?

“Sorry,” she exhales. “Okay, you’re right, this is ridiculous. I should go.”

“What the hell, Lucy?” I stare at her, breathing hard. “Why’d you get me worked up like that in the office? You get me all aroused and then just change your mind?”

“Sorry. Just lost my nerve.” She jumps from the table and gently pushes me away. “I’ll catch you later, JP.”

“What? Wait.”

I stare after her with an aching hard-on as she rushes from the room. Why do I feel like I’ve been played?