Twisted Luck Page 2

  Discomfort lined his handsome face.

  “Oh God, you are married. Show me your hands.”

  He winced and held up both naked hands. “I’m not married.”

  “You had said no mistresses. Girlfriend, then? Because I’m not leading you down some dark path of sin.”

  A smile quirked, erasing the discomfort. “I assure you, I usually lead.”

  “Then do me already.” I couldn’t believe I’d said that. But then, I’d practically begged David many times. He’d wanted to wait.

  Mr. Perfect sat a little taller and cocked his head. “That was noble of you. To wait.”

  “His idea,” I grouched, angry that I obviously kept mumbling things that should remain secret. “He thought it would be romantic. We’d done everything but the dirty deed, anyway. But hey, when you’re porking the easy roommate, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  My guest sipped his drink. “Obviously not.”

  “It’s not like I was cold in bed or anything. I’d wanted to get laid, like all of my friends. He just didn’t want it from me.” God knew I’d given him enough blowjobs and whatever else he wanted to try to convince him. I was just cursed.

  Mr. Perfect’s gaze traced my mouth, and he smiled again, this one even dirtier than the last. He took a long sip of tequila, his gaze landing on the newsletter at my elbow. He rose from his chair, snagged the page I’d doodled on earlier, and sat back down before I could snatch it back.

  He perused my handiwork across the paper heralding David’s engagement complete with photo. Mr. Perfect shot me a breathtaking smile. “Love the mustache.”

  “An art major comes in handy.” I cocked my head. Something about that grin… “You really do look familiar.”

  “I have one of those faces.”

  “Yeah, the kind mothers warn girls about.”

  He set the page down with a laugh. “But you like that I’m handsome.”

  “I’d liked that David was handsome, too.” The tequila soured on my tongue, so I set the glass down with drunken force. “I also like window shopping for expensive shoes. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to buy them.”

  “I’m not for sale.” He contemplated me for what seemed an eon, his long fingers drumming on my table. “What would you give, Olivia, to have your revenge?”

  “I don’t want revenge.” But honestly…I’d sell my soul for some good luck.

  “What did you say?”

  I frowned. “I don’t want revenge?”

  “No, the other.”

  “I don’t recall saying anything else.”

  He leaned closer and practically whispered, “Say it anyway.”

  “I—” I licked my lips, unable to tear my gaze from his chocolaty one. “I’d sell my soul for good luck.”

  “Would you?” He leaned forward on his elbows, interested and eager for my answer.

  “Would you?” I countered, shocked by his words and that I’d even contemplate this to begin with. People didn’t sell their souls. I didn’t believe in God, Satan, Hell, or Heaven. When I was little, God hadn’t helped my mother or me when we’d needed him most. I sure as hell didn’t see any help on this horizon.

  “I already have. Paid the piper, too.” Blatant honesty and sadness quirked in a slight smile.

  I sat a little taller once more. Had this guy been through Hell and back? No way could someone fake that look, the one of cold despair. I knew it too well. I had seen it on my mother’s eyes, viewed it in the mirror when I gazed at myself. I had thought Mr. Perfect hot and out of my league, but this…maybe this soft admission put him square in my playing field.

  I shrugged and found the will power to break eye contact. “And you’re still here, hot as sin and everything. So sure, what the hell. I’d sell my soul for good luck. What have I got to lose?” As if it were possible.

  I went to take another drink, only to have air meet my lips, my hands empty. “Hey—”

  Firm arms dragged me upward until I found my cheek pressed against that crisp dress shirt, my legs cradled under his firm bicep. The room spun. I don’t know if it was from the alcohol, the scent of his cologne, the firmness of his chest under that shirt...

  My feet hit the floor in my bedroom and the spinning suddenly stopped. My head cleared long enough to stare into the depths of his chocolate brown eyes full of purpose and passion. I found myself lightheaded again but in a good way.

  The drunken haze lifted as I stared at that mouth. God, what would it be like to be kissed by such perfection?

  Those sinful lips covered mine with hard, blistering precision. Not soft like David’s kiss, but firm, with a pulse of welcomed tongue sweeping into my mouth.

  Molten bliss better than any drink swept along my veins, amplifying and expanding as heat in my core. Somehow, one of my hands landed in his hair, cupping the back of his head like a lifeline. The other massaged his shoulders, luxuriating in how his muscles rippled as he lowered me to the bed.

  Cool sheets met my back, a delicious contrast to the hot, hardened chest pressing against my aching breasts. I shifted my hips, widening my thighs to make room for…wow. Moaning into his mouth, I arched my back, the needy parts of me seeking that long length of pulsing heat throbbing in his dress slacks.

  He broke the kiss and nibbled his way down my neck. “This is your lucky night.” His thumb brushed the side of my breast in a long stroke, his finger stopping at the edge of my nipple. “I can make you feel very, very good, Olivia. I can give you the sweetest revenge over your cheating exes. I’ll make your toes curl and your blood sing.”

  As if to make his point, that finger brushed the hardened peak of my nipple, and a fresh wave of desire coursed straight to my core. “But I have to be sure you want this. All of it.”

  A jumble of confusion stuttered all thoughts. Of course I wanted this. “Do you have condoms? Because I don’t have condoms.”

  “I have condoms.”

  I tugged his head back down to mine. “Good,” I whispered against his ear. “Then get to the toe-curling part.”

  Fabric rustled and cool air met my skin as he somehow whipped off my dress. Like, it was there and then it wasn’t…but I was fine with that as his large hand covered one breast and squeezed. The front clasp of my bra unsnapped and heated wetness replaced the fabric covering my nipple.

  “Oh God.” So much better than David’s meager attempts, Mr. Perfect’s wicked tongue swirled laps around and around, the motion swirling the lust inside my brain and down in my core.

  “Something this sweet and decadent is wasted on God.” His mouth consumed the other nipple, his teeth tweaking it in a delicious way that sent spears of pain-laced pleasure straight to my toes.

  I wiggled my hips and gasped as his hard length grazed my sex, setting that on fire as well. And since this was a one-night stand, I could be as naughty as I liked, right? No need to be worried or scared like I was with David. Carpe diem. Or Carpe night. Or whatever.

  His mouth returned to mine, kissing me with renewed reverence as his hand alternated between my nipples, caressing, tugging, and pinching in just the right increments to make my head swim.

  Panting, I reached between us and unbuttoned his shirt, somehow making quick work of the event because poof, the fabric was gone, leaving firm, hot skin under my fingertips. Oh, yes. Just a smattering of hair covered the lean muscles, and it was a divine exploration along the dip of his pectorals, savoring the tightness of his nipples, the ripple of his abs as he drew in a ragged breath.

  I excited him, did I? I liked that, turning on Mr. Perfect. My tongue teased the depths of his mouth as I dipped my hand lower to cup the zipper of his dress slacks. He ground against my palm, rumbling deep in his throat, his cock hard, insistent, big.

  He broke the kiss and peppered my neck with little nips. “It’s a good thing it’s big,” he whispered hoarsely, his hand covering mine over his dick. “Remember the toe curling pledge.”

  Mouth suddenly dry, my hand lost its gri
p as I thought of debating that. He rocked to the side, and his hand covered my sex, his fingers squeezing my swollen flesh through my panties. Strong pulses of need shot from my clit down my legs to my toes. This had never happened during solo happy time.

  And damned if I didn’t want more of that.

  I licked my lips, my heart pounding double time as his fingers traced a pattern over that tight bundle of nerves. “I think I might die right here.”

  “You won’t die. I promise you.” He slid one long finger under the material and along my slit, teasing my needy flesh. The material disappeared—maybe it ripped—and his fingers had full access.

  His mouth returned to mine, and he explored with tongue and fingers until I tore my mouth from his, panting. “Please…”

  I wanted him to finish the orgasm that teetered on the brink. At the same time, I never wanted it to happen. Ecstasy this sweet should be savored, only I had no knowledge of how.

  He laughed and gave each nipple a swift kiss. “Sometimes the sweetest bliss is right on the edge. The edge of pleasure.”

  I groaned.

  Those deft fingers found my clit and pinched. “The edge of pain.”

  I drew in a gasp of pure sin as ripples of an orgasm beckoned. “You’re driving me mad.”

  “Sanity is over-rated.” His mouth returned to mine in a kiss that rendered me crazy with lust. Heart pounding, sweating, core throbbing with need that seemed to sweep away my inhibitions.

  Those hot lips kissed their way down my ribs, his stubbled jaw tickling across my belly, his tongue sliding along my slit. I gasped, and before I could say no, he spread my thighs wide and buried his face between them. His tongue lapped around my clit in insistent, take-no-prisoner circles.

  I wanted to protest, but the pulse of an impending orgasm changed my mind. My hands sank into his hair, tugging him closer. His mouth nipped, sucked, and rocketed the orgasm straight to orbit.

  Each breath seemed shallower, my heart pounding so hard my ribs hurt. My toes curled and cramped as ecstasy shattered my core in clenching, rippling waves that made my thighs shake against his cheeks. I didn’t just see stars. I saw constellations that mapped the way straight to Hell.

  I sank my head into the pillow and panted, staring up at my ceiling as it spun slightly. He kissed his way back up, across my belly, along each rib before propping himself up on his elbows.

  He grinned down at me. “Well? Toes curled? Blood singing?”

  I swallowed and nodded, still dazed.

  He trailed a finger along my cheek and across my upper lip in a tantalizing brush of gentleness. “There’s more, you know.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  His smile softened as he continued his pattern to include my bottom lip. “Oh no. I mean, more. More you can gain, more luck to be had. Not only can I rock your world, but I can change your life.”

  I somehow controlled my breathing to eke out more than two words. “Losing the V-card is often a life-changing experience.”

  He tossed back his head and laughed, one that reverberated down my body. “Let me make love to you, and I’ll show you life-changing.”

  Everything began to throb in a different way, one that demanded instead of pleaded, and I found myself nodding in a dazed and hungry way. To hell with my shitty life, the asshole exes, and no money. If my life was going to Hell, I was going to do it with multiple orgasms under my belt and a satisfied grin on my face.

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  He kissed me hard, one with promise and lots of sweeping tongue action that had me gasping for breath again. Somehow that thick cock became encased in a condom, and he dragged the tip along my slit in a tantalizing way, each slide causing the head to dip in and tease my entrance. I rocked my hips, needing more.

  “Do you want it to be really good?” he whispered in between kisses along my neck. “Really magical?”

  “Yes,” I breathed, entranced.

  “When I enter you, I want you to ask me for whatever it is that will make your life better.”

  “A unicorn?” I had a thing for sexy, imaginary creatures.

  “No, silly.” He dropped a searing kiss on my lips. He slid just the tip inside again, teasing with small thrusts that made my core seize with pleasure. “Humor me. It’s the first and only time you lose your virginity. Think of it as blowing out a candle on your bucket list cake. What do you wish for?”

  That was easy. “Luck. The good kind.”

  He nuzzled my neck. “That’s it? Not fame, fortune, a new career? Someone new to love?”

  “No. Luck.” I arched my hips, trying to drive him in and end the sweet torture. “The good kind.”

  “You had said earlier you’d sell your soul for it.”

  Somewhere in my hazy mind, a warning buzzer went off. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “That’s your decision.” His mouth nibbled and sucked while his fingers dipped between us to rub that sweet spot, the pressure calling forth another orgasm. “I want you to be sure. Just say the word, and I’ll stop.”

  But I didn’t want him to stop. The pleasure inside me bridged on pain that needed release despite the orgasm I just had. He had no right to do this to me. I groaned.

  “Well?” His breath warmed my ear as fingers stilled and he rolled, the heat of his body departing from mine, leaving me…alone.

  A moment of panic-laced longing hit as I reached for him. “Please…”

  “You sure?”

  That warning swirled in the haze of lustful confusion. Why not be happy for once? His hand returned to stroke lazily along my body, dashing away all thoughts.

  I swallowed and nodded. “The answer is yes. Take whatever. My soul, the last ten bucks in my wallet… Just do it.”

  “Now?” His body returned, looming over me as he dropped a kiss to my lips. He stared into my eyes, his glittering like onyx, his mouth quirked with something that echoed triumph.

  The desire beckoned louder, and I bit my lip on another moan. “Now.”

  Slowly, slowly he slid inside, the stretch foreign yet deliciously good in a needy, full way.

  “Oh,” I breathed.

  “Say it,” he said through gritted teeth. “What did you tell me earlier? What would you wish for?”

  “I want—” I gasped as he sank deep, deeper… “Luck. The good kind.”

  He slammed into me with a force that exploded like something nuclear. Instant ecstasy bridging on catastrophic laced with loss. My groan mingled with a scream as a weird sensation shattered across my back and along my right arm. He deepened the kiss, soothing my noise with his mouth, his tongue stealing my breath.

  A moment later, something euphoric and…wonderful…surged as his cock sank to the hilt. The constellations I’d seen earlier became a supernova of color before my eyes. I arched my hips, seeking more.

  Each stroke took me higher, each kiss and nip and bite on my neck, lips, and breasts shook me harder. I hung on to what I could, his skin sweaty and slick, his hands and mouth beautiful accompaniment to each timed, precise thrust. I ceased breathing. I’m sure my heart stopped. And oh God, how the hell would I survive the tsunami of an orgasm brewing?

  “Tell me again,” he whispered, his glittering gaze searing into mine.

  I heaved a breath, sucked in another. My parched tongue licked beads of sweat from my upper lip. “L-luck,” I ground out. “The good kind.”

  He murmured something in an accented tongue and kissed my lips, my nose, and each eyelid.

  This orgasm rocked my core like an earthquake, rattling every cell, firing every muscle. Free-fall from a spaceship couldn’t be this good, the spinning, swirling, kaleidoscope of colors delighting my brain. I gasped for air like I’d surfaced from the depths of Hell only to be plunged back in again with another toe-curling tremor.

  “Good girl,” he crooned, smiling down at me as if I were a cherished possession. “Let the luck begin.”

  Chapter Two

  The doorbell rang.


  I bolted upright, the sheet falling from my naked body to pool at my waist. Sunlight streamed through an open strip in the curtains, the beam dancing across my legs. Something told me I should be disoriented and in a hell of a lot of pain, but I felt pretty damned good. Like I’d slept for a week good.

  I looked around and squinted. The shot glass on the bedside table, a spent wedge of lime, a salt shaker, and the empty bottle of tequila reminded me of my pity party. I frowned at the bottle. I didn’t recall finishing that off, but then, I’d had help.

  Gorgeous help.

  Dirty assistance that had licked and kissed every inch of my body before riding me hard, leaving me wet and satisfied, and no longer a virgin.

  Oh God.

  Heart in my throat, I stared at my empty bed, the sheets a rumpled mess, pillows everywhere. A trembling hand slid down my belly to my mound and hesitantly dipped into my folds for proof. Everything seemed…normal. Dry and pain-free, though that brush with my finger stirred up a weird tremor of desire that shot through my veins.

  Had I really brought a guy home and…well…

  Male laughter echoed…a tongue lapped liquid off my belly, the wedge of lime running over my—

  The doorbell rang, longer this time.

  Breathing hard, I yanked my hand away and banished the sexy images in my brain. “Coming!”

  Someone banged on the door and shouted, “Ms. Denning!”

  “Dammit, I said I was coming.” I grabbed a robe and shrugged it on, checking the bathroom as I went, just to be sure. The doorbell pealed again, and I went that way, peeking into an empty kitchen and living room before tying the robe shut.

  The door opened to a chorus of “Surprise!”

  Something shot into my face, raining down over my hair. Sputtering, I wiped colorful, glittery confetti from my eyes to glare at three eager, well-dressed beings. “What the—”

  “Congratulations! This is your lucky day,” the pert woman in a business suit exclaimed. She shoved a larger-than-life check into my hands. “Get a picture, Joe. She looks positively stunned.”

  A camera flashed, blinding me further. Someone sidled up to me and slung an arm over my shoulders, hugging me close. “What do you have to say, Ms. Denning?”