by Lulu Pratt
“Go to hell,” he grits out between his teeth. I can see him unbuttoning the jacket of his suit as he paces back and forth in his office hurling insults at me.
The mere visual is pretty damn comical if I do say so myself.
“I’ll see you there,” I promise darkly, then I hang up.
My concentration shot, I throw my tools back on the table and stare at the piece in front of me.
Lilah Tucker.
Why can’t I stop thinking about her? No matter how hard I try, she’s right there in the peripheral of every thought I have.
I must have taken about ten cold showers in the last two days alone. Every time I recall her, my dick aches in protest.
The sexual frustration is to be expected. She’s a walking wet dream if I’ve seen one.
But why do I miss her feistiness and that sharp tongue as she tries to deflect attention away from the intensity of our chemistry. Why do I miss the fire raging in her beautiful eyes?
My fist balls up again on its own accord, a clear indication that I need to get a grip.
How the fuck do I miss someone I barely know? What kind of spell did she put on me?
The tension radiating from me is so strong that I push away from my workstation. If I try to continue sculpting, I might just ruin it.
Tired of these frustrating thoughts, I snatch up my phone with one goal in mind.
Spurred on by my recent conversation, I find Lilah’s number intent on making my first sizable investment.
Even if I were to never touch my trust fund, I know that my inheritance will take care of me until the grave. However, I suddenly feel like I have something to prove and Lilah’s going to help me.
And I’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Because if I don’t see her soon, I’m going to combust.
Fifteen
LILAH
I’m not sure what possessed me to go grocery shopping in the middle of the night, but here I am in aisle six comparing generic cereal brands.
By the time I grabbed a squeaky shopping cart, it was midnight on the dot and I’ve been busy ever since. My tight budget makes it necessary that I pinch every penny possible and I don’t take the task lightly.
Because of the late hour, my contacts have long left my eyes, so I push the clunky glasses further up the bridge of my nose to continue my price comparison.
When my phone vibrates in my back pocket, I tear my eyes away from my current task and retrieve the device. Who would be calling me at this hour? My mom? Charli? Edward?
Nothing prepares me to see Andrew’s name on the screen.
I haven’t heard from him once since I pulled my little disappearing act and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to reach out.
When can I see you, Ms. Tucker?
I may not have reached out to him in reality, but he was all I could think of, night and day. I had even found myself washing my hands under scalding water this afternoon lost in my thoughts as I recalled our last encounter.
I’m free all day tomorrow. What time works best for you?
I take a deep breath and wait for his response. Hopefully, he says later in the day. I need time to prepare for our next encounter, because the last one nearly knocked my world off its axis.
What about tonight? I want to pick your brain before I move forward with anything…
Shit.
Sorry. I can’t right now. I’m in the middle of something.
His response comes through quicker than lightning.
What the fuck are you saying, Lilah? Where are you?
He’s nowhere near me but I can feel the heat of his jealousy through the phone.
Cool your jets, caveman. I’m not in danger. I’m fine. Honest.
I hesitate to respond, but I know that I have step lightly.
I’m food shopping.
When no follow-up text comes through, I shrug and get back to the task at hand.
I breeze through the aisles humming softly to myself. I make it to the cookie aisle uninterrupted when a kind male voice breaks my train of thought from behind me.
Great.
“How are you?” He asks politely, and I continue to stare intently at the package in my hand. The less I say the better. Maybe this overly friendly mystery man will back off.
I grunt and bend down my head even further. Perhaps shopping at midnight is not the best idea I had recently.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but you looked fa—”
That’s when I recognize the voice. Deep yet nasally. I teased him about it all the time when we were together.
“Mason!”
Unintentionally, I pounce on him hugging him tight as comfort fills my heart at seeing someone familiar from my past.
“Hey, Lily Cat,” he greets laughingly when I pull away.
His old nickname for me brings back a flood of memories, good memories. I haven’t seen this man since our college graduation. I had no idea I even missed him until this very moment.
Mason was always a good guy. At least where I was concerned. We broke up in college because we realized we were better off friends than anything else. There was absolutely zero spark between us.
“Wow, you look great,” he tells me sincerely. “I’m guessing life is treating you well.”
If only you knew.
I smile dutifully and thank him for the compliment.
“What have you been up to, Lily Cat? You forgot all about me once you moved away to chase your dreams,” he remarks, moving his basket from one hand to another.
Rolling my eyes playfully, I lean against the handle of my cart. “Are you sure it’s not the other way around? My number is still the same, big shot. You’re the one who left to become some Wall Street exec.”
Mason laughs bashfully and it’s an endearing sound.
“So what are you doing in Greenwich anyway? Do you live around here now?”
“Not quite. I’m here for the summer. My girlfriend’s family is from here, so we’re staying at their estate for a little bit,” he shares casually.
But the smile on his face is telling.
Mason’s in love.
Who the hell would have guessed it? He’d only had eyes for books and video games the last time I saw him. And now he’s a man in love. How stinking cute…
My heart sings at the revelation and I start to tell him as much until a strong hand grips my elbow and catches me off guard.
Before I can yelp in surprise, Andrew’s deep timbre is filling the air.
“Hey Cupcake,” he says, dropping a wet kiss behind my ear. His grip on my elbow loosens as he traces his tongue over my earlobe.
To any other person, it would look like we’re two lovers greeting each other. But I know for a fact that this is just his way of marking his territory.
He’s deduced that Mason is a threat and even though that’s not the case at all, he’s still on full alert.
A shiver runs down my spine and it has nothing to do with the chilly temperature inside the market.
“Andrew, hi,” I greet in an attempt to sound cool and collected. But I sound out of breath and dazed even to my own ears.
He finally steps around me and looks down at me. I almost drown in the midnight blue pools focused intently on me.
Mason clears his throat across the aisle and I suddenly remember he’s there. So I clear my throat too and try to talk.
“Andrew, this is Mason. Mason, this is Andrew.” My words are wobbly as Andrew’s hand moves from my elbow to the small of my back. I’m wearing a crop top and have never been more thrilled about an outfit choice as his hand touches my bare flesh.
His hot fingers dance across my cool skin creating a delightful sensation.
Mason is the first to extend his hand and Andrew looks at it for a full moment before reaching out to shake it.
True to his nature, Mason engages him in friendly conversation while I get lost in drawing comparisons between the two.
Where Mason is lanky and thin, Andrew
is solid muscle. Mason’s pale skin dims in comparison to Andrew’s bronzed tone and the array of artwork covering it. Mason’s unruly hair is light blond and falling around his ears, while Andrew’s copper hair is short and perfectly groomed. Mason is open and friendly, but Andrew is closed off and brooding.
They couldn’t be more different—
“Right, Cupcake?” Andrew says bringing me back to the present. I’m not even going to pretend that I know what they’re talking about so I just smile and nod.
Mason watches the way Andrew’s thick arm falls around my shoulder and gives a heavy sigh, rocking back on his heels.
“Well, it was great to see you, Lily Cat. Hopefully it won’t be six years before we see each other again.”
I chuckle lightly and promise to keep in touch. I can see Andrew’s jaw tighten from the corner of my eye.
“Nice to meet you, man. Take care of this one, she’s a handful,” Mason says jokingly before walking off to continue his shopping.
Before Mason’s even out of earshot, Andrew is grilling me.
“Why the fuck are you out shopping so late?” He growls and the disgruntled sound goes straight to my panties. “Do you have any idea what kind of psychos are out this time of night?”
I simultaneously want to purr and bristle at his tone.
“Err, you? Me? Mason? I can take care of myself just fine,” I bite back. “How the hell did you find me so fast anyway?”
His lips lift into a smile at my demanding tone.
What the hell is so funny?
“Answer me!” I’m two seconds shy of stomping my feet like a spoiled child. His little popups are beginning to rattle me. It’s like he has eyes all over this city.
“This isn’t a very big town. There’s only one store open this late in a twenty-mile radius.”
“And that little show back there,” I say referencing his tense interaction with Mason. “What was that?”
“You’re mine, Lilah. And I want everyone who sees you to know it,” he says emphatically, his stare certain and steady.
“I’m yours?” I repeat back to him questioningly.
His eyes darken dangerously as he fixes me with his burning gaze. When he speaks, that deep rumbling voice holds nothing but delicious promise.
“Mine.”
Sixteen
ANDREW
“Tell me where we’re going,” Lilah demands from the passenger seat, turning her body to face mine as I navigate my car south down a pretty deserted Interstate 95.
“You said you trusted me, Cupcake.”
As soon as we got to her place, I’d dropped her bags on the kitchen counter and told her that we were going out. She’d already revealed that she wasn’t tired and I knew the perfect outlet for some of that restless energy.
“I do trust you, but I still want to know,” she says, skillfully cloaking her words in a sullen tone before crossing her arms across her chest.
Covering my mouth with my free hand, I cover a smile. She’s fucking adorable.
“We’ll be there shortly. Just sit tight,” I instruct, changing lanes.
This trip would typically take a little over an hour during the day, but with the help of my Porsche Turbo and the empty roads, we’ll be getting there well ahead of schedule.
She lets out an exasperated huff and faces forward again.
“This is a pretty sweet car,” she mumbles from the passenger seat. She’s spoken so lowly that it seems as if she’s talking to herself.
“Thanks,” I say smoothly, gripping the wheel.
“I think you’ve been in a different car every time I’ve seen you,” she points out. “Are cars a passion of yours?”
I’ve never really thought about it like that. I’ve always just been a lover of beautiful cars. It’s one of the few things my father and I had in common.
He bought me my first Porsche Carrera for my sixteenth birthday and the rest was history.
“Not sure I would call it a passion, more like a hobby. I guess you could say I’m a collector of sorts,” I tell her. For a second I remember my bucket list, which I haven’t really thought of since the day I first saw Lilah’s beautiful face on that leaflet.
“I see,” she says, and I get the sense that there’s a lot left unsaid.
What’s she thinking?
It still blows my fucking mind that a woman has been able to keep my attention for so long. I’ve never worked this hard to get someone in my bed. And to be honest, I’ve caught myself forgetting that’s the ultimate goal.
When it comes to her, things flow effortlessly and that scares the shit out of me. It’s like I actually want her to fall for me, for reasons that have nothing to do with sex, and that’s a terrifying pill to swallow.
I don’t know what it is about her, but Lilah has effortlessly done the impossible from the moment we were introduced. She holds my attention without even trying.
Women chase me, not the other way around. Yet, Lilah let it be known early on that she didn’t plan on joining the “legions of women in my fan club.”
Her words, not mine.
As we get closer to our exit, I ease into the far right lane and begin decelerating.
“No fucking way.” Lilah’s voice is full of awe as she presses her nose against the window to peer out at the bright lights of the city we’re entering.
I pull off the exit and bring my car to a slow crawl as she continues to take in the sight coming into view.
“You did not bring me to New York City!” she exclaims, turning to look at me again.
This time there’s nothing but wonder written all over her face when she looks at me. Her eyes dance excitedly as she turns her head back and forth trying to take it all in.
“I can’t fucking believe this!” She can barely stop fidgeting in her seat and the grin on my face is uncontained.
I’ve never seen someone so excited about something so small in my entire life. Who knew a forty-minute drive could mean so much to someone?
Lilah’s smile stretches from ear to ear as I continue driving. And fuck me, but I want to be the reason that smile is on her face more often.
There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s attracted to me. But it never occurred to me that I could do something to bring her so much joy without touching her once.
Suddenly I realize that I’ve never seen her this giddy and the energy is contagious. A foreign emotion is ebbing through my veins and I know that I want to spend my time putting that smile on her face.
Despite the late hour, the streets are still congested in the city that never sleeps.
“Just so you know,” she says and her voice has grown thick. “This is the most amazing thing that’s happened to me in a while.”
Her words are emphatic and I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I’m not sure what that’s about but I know I need to lighten the mood.
“You haven’t seen anything yet, Cupcake.”
***
The plan was to take her dancing.
But as I’m learning, things rarely go according to plan when Lilah is involved.
As soon as we started walking to the club, Lilah’s eyes lit up when she saw a sign for a popular sushi restaurant she’d read about.
So, instead of dancing body to body in a packed nightclub, we’re on a rooftop eating sushi. Well, I’m eating sushi while Lilah tries over and over to get a good grasp on her food with the chopsticks.
She’s so determined not to ask for help and I love the show. Everything she does is downright charming. I have no clue how she does it, but it just works.
I don’t hold in my laugh when her forehead wrinkles as she focuses intently on the task in front of her.
“You can just eat it with your hands. I’m not judging you.”
She makes several more valiant attempts before blowing out a frustrated breath.
“Fuck it,” Lilah says before digging in with her hands.
When she licks her fingertips clean my cock wakes up and
goes on full alert, taking in the sensual scene enviously. New York City’s thick and humid night air does nothing to help my rising body temperature.
“This is delicious,” she moans appreciatively.
We eat in silence for a while before Lilah speaks up.
“So you own this building?” she asks drawing from our brief conversation earlier.
“Just the top three floors,” I tell her, finishing up my food.
After grabbing our food I didn’t want to eat it on the busy Manhattan streets so I told her to follow me as I led us a few blocks away to this very building. I inherited the multi-level penthouse on my eighteenth birthday and this rooftop has always been a favorite hideout of mine.
The solitude is comforting and the view is amazing.
Though sharing it with someone is new for me. I’ve never brought anyone here before, but I hadn’t even thought twice about bringing Lilah here.
What the hell does that say?
I’ve never been interested in sharing rooftop views and conversations over sushi, yet here I am.
I tell myself that I’m pulling out all the stops in order to achieve my goal, but another part of me knows that isn’t completely true. I find myself enjoying this a little too much and I know I need to pump the brakes.
“This is incredible,” Lilah says beside me, forcing me to abandon my troubling thoughts.
Still brooding, I don’t say anything as she begins to fill me in on the random day trips she and her mom used to take to New York City during the summers when she was a girl.
I’m only half-listening at first, but in true Lilah fashion her enthusiasm proves to be contagious and pulls me right out of my dark mood.
When I tune back in and focus on the way her lips are moving, I’m reminded of something that has been evident from the start, that Lilah Tucker is fucking trouble.