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Things We Left Behind: Chapter 29

Getting Stupid


Honky Tonk was loud and crowded. There was a band occupying the small stage in the corner, and almost every table was taken. I spotted my friends at the corner of the bar and made my way toward them.

Naomi and Lina had their heads together, laughing over something. Knox and Nash stood guard behind them, beers hanging loosely from their hands, sharing wry smiles over something they both found amusing. Stef the Chicken had apparently returned to town and was two-­stepping with Jeremiah on the dance floor in the middle of a crowd of burly bikers.

I felt like a big, dumb idiot at the wave of disappointment that smacked me right in the face.

Lucian hadn’t said he was coming. It was silly to think that he’d make the drive on a Wednesday night. It was stupid to have even wanted him to. But that was me. Silly, stupid, and now downright disappointed. I’d dressed up for no reason, wasting a perfectly good matching bra and underwear set under the short skirt and tight sweater I thought would make his blood warm.

Of course, I hadn’t actually asked him to come. We should be done. Finished. Finito. No more sex-­o. Though we were still flirt fighting over text. But I sure as hell wasn’t putting myself out there on a limb. Not with him. And not when I should be focusing on finding my future husband and father of my future children.

I tried to shake off my mood as I approached the bar. This was for the best. Lucian was nothing but a distraction from what I really wanted. It was time to forget about his gigantic dick and focus on my future.

“Lookin’ hot tonight, Sloane,” Sherry “Fi” Fiasco called from behind the bar where she was helping Silver the bartender sling drinks. She saluted me with her lollipop.

I fluffed my hair and blew her a kiss. And on the inside, I wished I’d gone with sweats.

No, I reminded myself. It wasn’t a waste. I was hunting for a potential mate. Any guy in here could be the future Mr. Sloane. Like that one over there.

Mr. Michaels, Chloe and Waylay’s handsome teacher, was sharing a beer with two other teachers and mechanic Tallulah St. John. He was good looking, had a great smile, loved kids, and wore glasses. And all I could think about was Lucian’s tattooed naked body ranging over mine.

How was a girl supposed to meet a nice guy and settle for normal, non-­mind-­melting sex now? Was I going to be haunted by the ghost of all the orgasms he’d delivered? Would I compare every lover from now on to him, and would anyone come close to measuring up?

I was spiraling. Over Lucian’s spectacular cock. I needed therapy and a drink.

I made a mental note to check out a book or two on hypnotherapy. I’d get over him…er, his sexual prowess if it killed me.

“There she is,” Naomi said, hopping off her stool and hugging me despite the fact that we’d spent half the day working together.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. I was busy fantasizing about my mortal enemy ripping my underwear off and making me scream his name, I didn’t say. I was absolutely going to swing by the library on my way home and grab whatever books I could find on breaking bad habits.

Knox gave my shoulder a squeeze. His wedding band caught the light, reminding me that if someone could come along and turn Knox Morgan into the marrying kind, I still had a chance at finding Mr. Right out there.

Lina flashed me a grin and a wave.

Nash leaned in over her. “What are you drinking, Sloaney?”

“I think I’ll just have a root beer,” I decided.

Disappointment called for sugar. I’d have one drink. Then I’d make my excuses, hit the library, and go home. And then I’d check the battery level on my vibrator.

Lina and Naomi boxed me in.

“Nash and I took Naomi and Knox to meet Mary Louise this afternoon.”

I perked up. “How did it go?”

“We loved her,” Lina said.

Naomi’s smile lit up the bar. “Even Viking over there couldn’t find anything to complain about.”

“Now that’s impressive,” I admitted.

“Mary Louise is ecstatic that someone is taking an interest and your interviews have gotten good play,” Lina said, her dark-­red fingernails glittering against the bourbon in her glass.

“The library fielded six calls this week from people interested in the case,” Naomi added.

“Fran called today. She said there’s a podcast that wants to interview me, Mary Louise, and Allen. And she got on the judge’s calendar for an informal meeting next week,” I said.

“This is great progress,” Naomi said, nudging me with her shoulder. “So why do you look like someone just tried to ban all the books?”

Damn my face.

“It was a long day. So did Stef tell Jeremiah he’s ready to become a Knockemout resident yet?” I congratulated myself on my expert-­level subject change as we all turned to study the happy couple on the dance floor.

Naomi shook her head and rolled her eyes heavenward. “He’s convinced himself that Jeremiah is going to think he’s a stalker.”

“What an idiot,” I said affectionately.

“Speaking of dating, how’s your search going these days?” Lina asked.

Damn it.

“I haven’t been on any dates in a week,” I confessed. A week…ten days…ever since Lucian’s penis invaded my vagina and my dreams…

“Hang in there. Mr. Sloane is out there,” Naomi said, squeezing my hand.

“You can’t get burnt out already. He’s not going to stroll through that door,” Lina said, pointing to the entrance.

The door swung open, and I damn near forgot to breathe when Lucifer himself stepped inside, his face serious, another insanely sexy, expensive coat flapping in the breeze. His eyes found me, and I felt…a lot of unholy things.

“Wow. That would have been pretty great if it had been a different tall, gorgeous, single guy,” Naomi teased.

“Uh-­oh, Angel. Looks like the boss is here,” Nash warned Lina playfully.

“Here.” Knox shoved a root beer in my face, forcing me to look away from the avenging angel of orgasms as he made his way through the crowd. I could hear my heartbeat over the music. Electricity crackled over my skin. Every cell in my body was acutely aware that Lucian was near.

“Thanks,” I croaked.

“Lucy, what the hell are you doing here?” Knox demanded by way of greeting.

“I had business nearby. Thought I might find you here.”

His voice, that low, velvety rasp, went straight to my lady parts.

While the Morgans took turns doing the manly, shoulder-­clapping handshake greeting, I became fascinated by a crumpled dish towel on the back of the bar and tried to talk my body out of a full-­blown anticipatory orgasm.

The band changed tunes, shifting into “H.O.L.Y” by Florida Georgia Line while I tried to calm the hell down.

“I love this song,” Lina said to Nash.

He already had his fingers interlaced with hers and tugged her off her stool. “Let’s go, Angel.”

“Dance with me?” Naomi asked, sliding her palms up Knox’s chest. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear that had her cheeks turning pink.

“Don’t worry. I’ll hold down the bar,” I called after them, still ignoring Lucian.

The band’s lights had dimmed, making our little corner dark as sin. Silver and Fi were busy on the opposite end. Lucian eased closer, still not saying a word.

I reached for my drink, determined to look bored and not at all horny. But my traitorous fingers bobbled the glass, and gravity did the rest.

“Shit!” I climbed onto the footrail and reached over the bar to grab a stack of napkins.

Warm fingertips ghosted up the back of my thigh, and I froze where I was.

Lucian took the napkins from my hand and efficiently tossed them on the spill.

His hand came around my stomach, and he lifted me off the footrail. I suppressed a yelp of surprise.

He slowly lowered me to the floor, and in doing so, I had the thrill of feeling his erection pressed intimately to my rear end.

Finding myself caged between his arms and the bar, I turned. “Hi,” I said breathlessly. My nipples hardened to points sharp enough to cut through my practically useless bra.

He guided me into the dark corner where the bar met the wall and put a hand on either side of my head. “Hi,” he said. His eyes were smoldering, his cock hard, and I was giddy.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I didn’t trust myself to be able to stop.

“How was your day?” I asked.

“I don’t feel like making small talk, Pixie,” he said.

“What do you feel like doing?”

His lips curved into a wolfish facsimile of a smile. He hooked an index finger in the neckline of my sweater. The contact of his skin against mine had my lady parts celebrating. “You.”

He’d touched me. That meant I got to return the favor, right?

I reached out and cupped the hard length of his erection with my palm.

He closed his eyes and pressed himself against my hand.

I gripped him hard, and those gray eyes opened. He returned the favor by cupping my breast and squeezing.

I was dizzy, breathless, so turned on I was afraid I was about to combust.

“I thought we were done,” I said, even as I began to stroke him through his slacks.

“Do you want to be done?” His knee nudged my legs apart.

That hand kneading my breast was driving me to distraction.

Why did I have to be the one to say I wanted him again? Why couldn’t he say it?

The beat of the music pulsed through me as our bodies inched closer in our dark corner of sinful secrets.

“Someone might see us,” I said, ignoring his question.

His fingers slid inside the scoop of my sweater and dipped beneath the flirty edge of my bra to capture my needy nipple. My legs buckled, but I didn’t fall. Not with his knee between my legs, his hard thigh making contact with my aching center.

I sucked in a breath.

“Tell me you want me again,” he ordered as his fingers tugged at my nipple.

“What if I’m over it?” I breathed.

His grin was sinful. “I can feel how wet you are for me through my pants. You’re not over it.”

“Are you?” I asked.

“If I thought for a second I could get away with it, I’d have you bent over the bar with this tiny excuse for a skirt flipped up around your waist and my cock inside you.”

My core spasmed recklessly at the image his words painted. Lucian could give a master class in dirty talk.

“Oh boy,” I squeaked.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

I swallowed hard. “I suppose I wouldn’t be opposed to a few more orgasms. If you think you can deliver them.” The rigid length of his penis pulsed under my grip.

He tugged harder on my nipple, sending ripples of sensation echoing through my body. “I think I can manage to wring a few more out of you. If you can find a way to keep your insults to yourself.”

“I can’t promise that.”

It felt so good to be touched by him, to know that I was minutes away from being treated to his spectacular body.

“You two aren’t fighting again, are you? ’Cause I can reattach those electrodes real fast,” Knox said from behind Lucian’s broad back.

I jolted and released my grip on Lucian’s cock. He took his sweet time removing his hand from my shirt.

Apparently neither one of us had noticed that the song had changed and that our friends had returned. I ducked under his arm and stepped around him. I felt his grip on the back of my skirt and understood what he wanted. I positioned myself between Lucian’s bulging erection and everyone else’s line of sight.

“They’re definitely fighting,” Lina said, taking a good look at my face. “She’s all flushed and he’s grinding his molars.”

“We weren’t fighting,” I said. “We were…”

“Having a discussion we need to finish,” Lucian filled in. He gave my ass a hard pinch under the hem of my skirt.

I took half a step back, grinding the heel of my boot into the fancy Italian leather of his shoe.

“I’ll allow it as long as there’s no bloodshed,” Knox said.

“Call if you need backup,” Nash told us.

“We’ll be right back,” I promised as Lucian steered me away from our friends. “Are you out of your damn mind?” I hissed as he marched us down the hall, past the restrooms and Fi’s office. The second we turned the corner, his big hand wrapped possessively around my upper arm, and he pulled me against him.

His cock was rock-­hard against my stomach, and then his mouth was molten lava against mine. He kissed the air out of my lungs, the thoughts out of my head, the warning bells out of my ears.

One hand fisted in my hair while the other slid down to cup my ass cheek with something that felt a lot like possession.

“Why do you look so pissed off?”

“Because I’m not inside you. Because I drove all the way up here and you weren’t accommodating enough to be home alone.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize I was supposed to be at your beck and call,” I said, shoving a hand between our bodies and gripping his iron length.

He outdid me by dragging the neckline of my sweater down to reveal the spectacularly slutty lace bra I now had no regrets about harnessing my boobs into. His other hand found its way under my skirt to the apex of my thighs.

“My little tease.”

My brain hooked on the “my.” But all overthinking ceased when Lucian’s beard tickled my neck as his fingers traced the material over my sex.

“Someone could see us,” I said, sucking in a breath. Anyone could take a wrong turn out of the restrooms and end up getting an eyeful of enemies in rut.

“Tell them you have to leave,” he growled in my ear. The hand at my breast dove under the lace to palm me, to knead my flesh.

“We both just got here,” I said breathlessly.

“Then quit stroking my cock.” But even as he said the words, he pushed his erection harder against my hand.

His fingers found their way under the band of my underwear to my sex.

“So fucking wet for me. Every damn time,” he murmured before thrusting into me.

I was spiraling out of control, and I wanted him to fall with me. I wanted to drive him over the edge.

“Please,” I whispered, knowing how me pleading set him off.

He went rigid against me. Every muscle in his spectacular body was waiting to hear what I wanted from him. “Please what?”

“Let me taste you.”

He swore violently, but his erection betrayed him by swelling in my hand.

“Let me taste you, then we’ll go back, finish our drinks, and get the hell out of here,” I bargained.

He hesitated. But I felt the need in him. He needed to let me do this.

“Someone is going to come looking for us if we’re gone too long,” he said, sliding a single finger into my pulsating pussy.

“If you don’t let me put my mouth on your cock right now, I don’t know if I can go back out there. I just need to take the edge off.”

“You’re so close to coming,” he said as my muscles rippled around his fingers.

“Please, Lucian,” I whimpered. I’d come later. He’d make sure of that. But right now, I needed to feel him at the back of my throat. I needed to take him to the kind of place he took me.

He swore darkly and gave my breast another hard squeeze. Then he was releasing me.

I couldn’t believe it. The man was giving me the one thing I wanted, even though it was the one thing he didn’t want. As I worked his fly open, he brought two glistening fingers to his mouth and licked them.

My knees buckled, which was fine because the floor was where I had to be anyway.

I knelt on the cool concrete, feeling the heat from Lucian’s attention as I freed his cock. From this angle, it was intimidatingly huge. The blunt tip was already wet with moisture that leaked from the slit.

“Thank you,” I whispered. I looked up at him as I opened my lips and took him into my mouth. A shudder rolled through his body, and he pumped his hips convulsively against me.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed as I took him to the back of my throat and held him there.

Glancing up, I found his head tipped back, hands fisted against the wall.

I hummed and he looked down at me. Those gray eyes had fire in them. He reached out and stroked a finger over my cheek.

I took that as permission to continue. So I fisted my hand around the root of his shaft and began to move. Pulling, sucking him to the back of my throat, then dragging lips and tongue and fingers over him to the tip.

He was spewing profanity now as if I’d snapped nearly every tether of his control.

I loved this. The intimacy. The power. I was the one on my knees, but I was in control. He’d given me that.


I immediately froze at Lucian’s rough command. He gripped my hair, wrapping it around his fist, and pulled me back until his erection slid free. We stared at each other, both breathing heavily in the relative silence of the hallway.

His eyes were half-­mast, lips parted. He looked like he wanted more, and I wanted to give it to him.

Once again, he skimmed his knuckles over my cheek.

The moment was broken by high-­pitched giggles and the swing of the restroom door.

Lucian scooped me up under the arms and set me on my feet. “We have to go back before they send out a search party,” he said, tucking his monstrous cock back into his pants.

I was having trouble pulling myself together. The fog of lust had crowded out all my senses except for the ones Lucian currently occupied. I sagged against the wall.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he ordered as he adjusted his raging hard-­on.

“How am I looking at you?” I asked.

“Like you need me to fuck you.”

“To be fair, that’s exactly what I need.”

He gritted his teeth and half turned away from me. Was I driving him as wild as he drove me?

As I shoved my boobs back into my sweater, I took inventory of him. His tie was crooked. His usually perfectly coiffed hair was standing up on one side. And his pants looked as if they were in danger of being destroyed by his very insistent erection.

“How can you still walk and talk with that thing?” I asked, gesturing at his penis region.

“Do not address my cock right now,” Lucian growled. He was doing some kind of deep breathing exercise and looking everywhere but at me.

“It just seems like it gets harder every time. Is that normal? I mean, my boobs feel like they weigh a ton right now. I think my bra is cutting off my circulation.”

Lucian closed his eyes. “Pixie, I can’t get unhard when you’re talking about your tits.”

I grinned wickedly. The benefit of being a woman was that you could be turned on without pitching a tent in your pants. “They just feel so swollen. And my nipples are so sensitive.”

He cursed and bent at the waist.

Struggling to Regain Control Lucian was downright endearing.

“Thirty minutes.”

“What?” I asked.

“We’re leaving in thirty minutes. You make up an excuse and I’ll follow. Meet me in the parking lot.”

A thrill zoomed through me. He wanted to fuck me. He needed to fuck me. I would have done a victory dance if I hadn’t been so acutely aware of the wetness between my thighs.

“Deal,” I agreed. “I’ll go back first, and you take a minute to try to stop thinking about taking my bra off and burying your face in my boobs.”

His growl echoed after me as I danced past him, laughing.

We lasted twenty-­two minutes. Twenty-­two minutes of pure torture.

He stood behind me as I tried to focus on conversation with Naomi and Lina. But every time he touched me, his thigh crowding mine when he leaned in to order a drink, his finger tracing the bare skin between my skirt and sweater, I lost all train of thought.

Naomi finally gave me the perfect out and asked me if I was tired.

“I’m exhausted,” I fibbed. “It’s been a long couple of weeks, and I’m fantasizing about bed.”

Neither of those things was a lie.

“You’ve been through a lot,” she said with sympathy. “Go home. Get some sleep.”

“You sure you guys don’t mind?” I asked, stifling a fake yawn.

“I guess we’ll just have to settle for the testosterone trio,” Lina said. “Text me tomorrow.”

“I will,” I promised. “Good night, guys.”

Knox and Nash said their goodbyes. Lucian pretended to ignore me.

I sauntered out of the bar, adding an extra swing to my hips, and I felt him watching me the whole way to the door.

I was just unlocking my Jeep when I sensed a disturbance in the force. “Cheese and crackers! How did you get here so fast?”

“Long legs,” he said, gripping me by the arm and steering me toward his Jaguar. “Get in,” he said.

“What about my Jeep?”

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight after that little stunt in the hallway, you’re sorely mistaken. Get. In.”

I got in.


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