Lucy In The Sky (erotica romance for women)

by Jordan, Lucia

  Copyright © 2012 by Lucia Jordan

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Dear Reader

  Thank you for acquiring my story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

  As feedback is essential for me to deliver the HOTTEST and SEXIEST stories around, please feel free to leave a review.

  If you would like to contact me personally via email at luciajordan07@gmail.com I would be happy to speak with you.

  Best,

  Lucia Jordan

  Chapter One

  Soon, she’ll be mine. And this time, I’ll make her pay.

  This was just one of the thoughts flitting through Alan Hunt’s head as he stared down at the photos of the beautiful woman on the table in front of him. Lucy Shore.

  Two years ago, he’d met her and she was everything he’d dreamed. A spoilt, shallow heiress, he’d blinded himself to her faults and centered only on the way she’d made him feel. For a week, she had let him share her bed, her lusts, and her passions.

  And then she’d dumped him.

  Alan Hunt, journalist and book writer, had met many beautiful women in his life. He was used to having them falling at his feet. But the night he’d met the daughter of Moreland Shore, Alan found himself pursuing her with interest. It was at a charity benefit organized by her father, the CEO of the investment banking and trading giant AmCheck. And within minutes of being introduced to her, Alan had fallen in deep.

  She had teased him with her smiles, the soft touch of her fingertips on his nape as they’d danced. And then she’d whispered in his ear that there were other things they could be doing instead of dancing.

  Mesmerized, unable to credit his senses regarding what she was offering, he’d followed her out of the ballroom. Outside, in the cover of the trimmed bushes, they’d kissed hotly, and he’d roamed his hands over her slim, shapely body. She’d slid her fingers down his chest to cup his hardening erection, humming with approval.

  “I knew you were my kind of guy,” she’d purred. “I’ve always had a crush on you, Mr. Hunt. Talking so smooth on the news…do you realize how many women’s fantasies you’ve featured in just by reporting on the war in the Middle East, or the financial climate in China?”

  He’d laughed huskily, shocked by the thrill her voice and her touch etched within him. How old could she be? From the much he knew about her thanks to the media, she couldn’t be more than twenty-two. He was almost ten years older, being thirty-one himself.

  “I’m flattered,” he’d said, his breath hissing in his throat as her hand grew more daring, tracing the stiff outline of his cock beneath his tuxedo pants.

  “Are we going to take this somewhere more private, or would you rather fuck me here in the bushes?” she teased, pushing her young, soft body up against him till he could feel every sweet slope and dip.

  Taking charge instantly, he’d grabbed her by the arm and led her to where his car was parked. Less than an hour later, she was spread on his sheets, and the night had been spent in endless bouts of lust and excitement. Every inch of her had seemed untouched, almost virginal.

  Even now, two years after, he couldn’t forget the orange-sized roundness of her perky breasts, with their fat bubblegum-pink colored nipples. Each boob had fit perfectly inside his palm, and as he’d made love to them with his mouth she’d cried out and squirmed beneath him, her fingers raking up and down his back.

  Alan could still remember the first time he’d slid his lips down her concave belly to her bald pussy. The swollen petals of her sex had been so tightly furled he’d had to push them apart with his fingers to taste the honeyed wine within. Her taste…damn, he’d never forget that.

  At last, he’d stretched himself above her and then slid his cock into her welcoming slit. She’d been so, so wet, and so fucking tight it would have ended in moments if not for him clinging tight to his iron-clad control. He’d fucked her long and hard and she’d come countless times that night. He’d taken her on her side, from the back – against the wall…and then in the shower, with her legs wrapped around his waist, riding his dick till they’d pumped each other into their most explosive orgasm ever.

  He’d been so sure that it would just be that one night of bliss. Alan had never dreamed she’d want more. Everyone knew about the flighty Lucy Lucy Shore. Always with a different man candy on her arm. But to his surprise, the next day and the next…she’d show up at his door, wearing a sexy outfit and having that ‘fuck me now’ look on her face. And each time, he didn’t turn her away.

  It was crazy how he couldn’t get enough of her. Soon no one and nothing else mattered. They went out to dinner, visited a club…they were photographed together a lot and soon their affair was the latest scandal. Alan had always lived a private life, hated the limelight when he was off the cameras. But Lucy made him forget about all that. He didn’t care that the paparazzi began to stalk them, or stake out his home. So long as she wanted to be with him, he didn’t care what the outside world thought.

  Alan knew he shouldn’t have been shocked when it all came to an end a week later. Just like that, she told him it was over.

  She finally confessed to him that she’d simply been using him.

  The wild and carefree Lucy Shore had just been looking for a way to defy her overbearing father who wanted her to marry some boring Russian billionaire’s heir. So she’d made sure her affair with Alan had been splashed all over the tabloids. Pictures of the sexy young heiress coming out of the newscaster’s home at odd hours of the night and morning always made the headlines. The gossip columns couldn’t get enough of it. Needless to say, Lucy’s intended engagement to Viktor Reinhardt was cancelled when news of her goings on spread.

  “Sorry you had to be caught in the middle, Alan,” she’d said, shrugging her slender shoulders. With her cropped ice-blonde hair, blue-green eyes and puffy pink-tinted lips, she’d looked like a cross between a funky Miley Cyrus and a doe-eyed cherub. But Alan knew first hand that there was nothing cherubic about Lucy. She had the worst rich-girl tantrums, drank too much, and he suspected that she had to be using some kinds of recreational drugs. And yet like everything about her, he hadn’t cared, had been so sure he could get through to her if they’d had a chance together.

  And best of all, once she was in his arms, she shed all her drama-princess persona. When he touched her, she melted like an ice cream cone. In his bed, or on his cock, she let him take control. She submitted to him in ways she’d never dream of doing when they weren’t behind closed doors.

  It had been a fucked-up relationship. Alan should have been glad when it was over.

  But he wasn’t the type to be happy he’d been made a fool of. Alan’s pride – if not his heart, had been trampled upon. He all but became a laughing stock in his circles if not around the country. Especially when just days after she dumped him, she was seen on the arm of some new ‘tween” heartthrob rock band guitarist who was just the same age as she was. Yep, Alan had really looked stupid then. The couple had gone on to get matching steampunk-styled tattoos to seal their relationship which didn’t last beyond six months. Weeks later, Lucy was seen on the dating radar again – this time with someone actua
lly two years older. And so on it went.

  In the past two years, Lucy had managed to change boyfriends the way girls change hairstyles. She was never far from the rumor mill and people just couldn’t seem to get enough of reading about her playgirl lifestyle.

  One person who definitely hadn’t stopped following her crazy spiral was Alan.

  He had to be out of his mind to even care about what she was up to. He knew he should be sick in his stomach just thinking about her. But then he’d heard about her father suddenly dying of cancer, and then the family fortune collapsing beneath mismanagement and suspicions of money laundering. Not to talk about the unforgiving economic situation in the country…all in all, the Shore fortune was now a dwindling high rise of smoke just waiting to be finally blown out of the atmosphere.

  So basically, the once settled-for-life heiress was down on her luck, out of friends, and most importantly, old news. No one wanted to talk about or even read about some has-been party loving, young and restless female that’d only been famous for being famous.

  Disgusted with himself and his obsession with Lucy Shore, Alan swept the photo clippings off the desk in one furious slash of his arm. He didn’t need to see pictures of her, he reminded himself. Not when ever feature on her heart-shaped face was already committed to memory…

  Chapter Two

  Lucy could not believe she was actually there, seated in front of the one man in the world who’d been able to turn her inside out in ways she couldn’t even begin to define.

  Alan Hunt.

  When she’d been invited to a meeting with the producer at one of the top TV networks, she’d been over the moon. There’d been whispers about some new live show coming up that needed a young, hip host. Lucy had been on a knife’s edge of excitement at the thought that she was being considered for the much-coveted position.

  Sure, she didn’t really have much hosting experience. She was used to being the guest, not the other way round. But ever since her circumstances had somewhat deflated, so had her fame and social pull. Now no one was inviting her for interviews, and unlike in the past, she wasn’t flooded with invites to the hottest parties or shows.

  Lucy Shore wasn’t letting that hold her down though.

  She was still beautiful, and in her heart she knew that given the chance, the public would welcome her back as their favorite hot female.

  Besides, she needed the dough.

  But once she was shown into the producer’s office, her look of expectation had frozen on her face when she recognized the strongly handsome, dark-haired figure sitting behind the desk.

  She’d almost wanted to turn and flee from the room.

  “Lucy,” he’d said with a charming smile as he rose and indicated the chair in front of his massive desk. “Why don’t you sit down?”

  “Thank you,” she’d said breathily, finally taking a few hesitant steps into the well-appointed office. Her wary eyes never left the lean, tall man who now lowered back into his swivel chair. He sure looked the same as she remembered. And she remembered a lot about Alan Hunt.

  True, there had been many things about him that had been unforgettable. But one thing she’d never thought he’d be was a jerk…

  *

  “What on earth are you suggesting, Alan?”

  Her question held indignation, hurt, anger and shock. It was just five minutes into the meeting and already, he’d dropped the bomb. She couldn’t trust her ears that Alan had just suggested she sleep with him to get the TV host job!

  His smile was mocking as he regarded her coldly. “I think I made my position clear the first time you heard it. You’re very much the attention whore if memory serves me correctly – and it does. So I’m thinking you’ll jump at this great opportunity to get back in the limelight. I mean did you really think you’d just strut in here and claim the most desirable job in town right now?”

  She was shaking her head at him in disbelief. “So, what now? Want to spread me out on the couch?”

  “I much prefer the desk, to be honest. You bent over with your ass in the air and panties drawn down to your knees. Quite a degrading picture, you’d imagine. But there’s a catch…Off comes my thick leather belt, which will be connecting to that sweet little bottom of yours till I think you’ve had enough. Twelve strokes should do it. Finally, you’ll get on your knees where you’d be made to suck my cock till I cum deep into your throat – and you’re going to love swallowing every drop, I promise you.”

  Lucy was shaking so much she could hardly speak. But she found the mental energy from somewhere to answer sarcastically with, “Hmm…I see you’ve developed into one kinky bastard. So is that it, Mr. High and Mighty Hunt? You revive my waned popularity, give me a chance to make some good dough to maintain the lifestyle I was used to …and all you require is a few minutes of bondage and discipline, rounded by some fellatio to make it all official. Nice. And tempting, I’ll confess. Very tempting. But here’s the deal-“ She rose and walked over slowly to the edge of his desk, just inches from where he sat, and bent over him with a mocking smirk.

  Her face just a breath away from his, she murmured softly, plainly, “I’d rather jump in front of a moving train before I’d agree to any of that bullshit.”

  She straightened to glare down at him. “You and I know that if I take this job, and with you as the producer, everyone will believe I fucked my way into it. After all, what experience do I have as a live show host? You’re doing this to bring me to my knees, Alan. And it would have worked if I were the type to prostitute my way to money and fame.

  She watched as he rose to his feet, and this time it was him who closed the distance between them. Now that he was standing, she had to tip her head back to meet his chilly gaze.

  “Oh I forgot…mostly you’d rather just do it for free,” he drawled, and then snatched in a shocked breath when she slapped him in the face, hard.

  He seemed all set to smack her right back on the cheek, but then he must have seen her jewel-like eyes glisten with tears because he paused, expressionless.

  “Fuck you, Alan. I don’t need this.”

  Lucy swirled on her heels and headed straight for the door.

  “Wait.”

  She hesitated a moment before spinning slowly round. The tears still stood in her eyes; she was defiant not to let them slip down her cheeks.

  “So my first offer wasn’t to your liking. That’s fine. But there’s another option,” he continued in that same nonchalant tone.

  For one week, you get to play my love-sick girlfriend. You’ll accompany me to parties and whatever social events I decide. In two weeks, I announce our engagement. And by the end of the month, I call the engagement off, citing some excuse I’ll carefully feed to the media regarding your unsuitability for wedlock.”

  “Oh. So in this version, I get to look like the idiot dumped by the same guy I dumped two years ago. That’s sick, you know that. I really thought you were bigger than this. But you’re just like other men, aren’t you?”

  “I’m simply what you made me,” Alan said with a shrug. “Karma plays us all, Lucy. Too bad that this time, you’re on the losing end of the game.”

  Chapter Three

  Of all the mistakes Lucy had ever made in her life, breaking Alan Hunt’s heart was the worst.

  She’d known it then and even now, it had never rung more true.

  But had she really thought he was in love with her? Back then, no. Had she truly believed she’d hurt him in any way? Maybe a little bit. She’d gone on a guilt trip for months afterwards but she’d known she’d taken the right step.

  Lucy Shore didn’t want to fall in love. She was terrified of the very idea. What did she know about the world anyway?

  Living in a family surrounded by the best things in life, it had all been a façade that had fooled everybody else but the people living in it. Her mother, the closet alcoholic, and her father, the consummate womanizer who’d managed to keep secret his many affairs with women from Lucy’s long-t
ime nanny to the latest Hollywood starlet. But ever since she’d turned 13 Lucy’s eyes had been opened to the lies that were her family image. No, her parents weren’t really in love. No, her mother hadn’t actually wanted kids so basically, Lucy and her brother Tommy were just afterthoughts. And no, neither of her parents really cared if she was happy or not. She just had to keep up the image they needed to maintain their status in society.

  So Lucy did all she could to not keep up the image.

  Was that her way of biting back at parents who’d never made her feel like she was loved as a daughter? Lucy had always felt like her childhood had been stolen from her. Endless streams of nannies and babysitters; sent on trips around the world just to get her and her brother out of her parents hair…treated just like fashion accessories whenever her parents attended any of those family functions.

  So basically, her life was not the fairytale it had seemed.

  But was that a good enough reason for treating Alan Hunt the way she had?

  At first, it had started out like a game. Dear daddy had wanted to ship her off as bride to some Russian billionaire’s son in other to push a merger deal with their two conglomerates. Lucy’s way of putting her foot in was having a very public affair with the most respectable guy she’d ever dated. But she’d chosen Alan Hunt even though he was much older and not her usual type because she’d known it would draw more of an uproar from the interested public. Well, her would-be Russian fiancé had wanted nothing to do with her after that, and for a year following, her father didn’t even speak to her and kept threatening to disown her.

  It was barely eight months ago that her father fell ill with terminal cancer and within weeks, he’d passed on, leaving behind huge debts and unanswered questions as to his company’s business dealings.

  How many times had Lucy wished she’d done things her father’s way and married that Russian’s rich kid? Maybe by now she’d have been able to save her whole family from penury when her father died. Also, she now regretted ever defying her dad as his death had come as a shock that had rocked her whole existence. They’d been far from best friends since she was a kid but she sorely wished she’d done that one thing he’d ever asked of her.