by Lauren Rowe
In a frenzy of heat and want and near-desperate need, Lucas breaks free of my hungry kiss and begins frantically pulling the hem of my dress up while I begin feverishly unbuttoning his jeans in response.
Lucas’s hard cock pops out of his jeans, its tip shiny and beautiful. He sits up slightly, tossing me off him so he can pull off his jeans and shirt, and I finish getting my dress off.
I peel my bra and undies off in a flash.
He yanks off his briefs with a grunt.
Finally, we’re both naked, our skin covered in goosebumps, our eyes blazing.
He scoops me up and carries my naked body in his arms toward the bedroom.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you in all this time,” he breathes. “I’ve been with so many women since you, trying to forget you, trying to convince myself what happened between us wasn’t real, but nobody’s made me feel the way you did.” He lays me onto the mattress. “You’re the only one who makes me feel completely alive, Abby. The only one.” His mouth is on mine. His naked body is hulking over mine. His forearms are on either side of my head on the mattress as he presses himself against me and juts his hard-on into my entrance. “You still on the pill, Angel?”
I nod and grip his face, my body already on the cusp of release. In seconds, I feel the delectable sensation of his body burrowing inside mine, and then the feeling of his hard shaft thrusting deep, deep, deep inside me. His lips are on mine. His tongue is in my mouth. His hard chest is smashing into my breasts. And all of it is sending me into ecstasy.
“It was real,” Lucas whispers into my ear, almost inaudibly. “Now I know. It was real, Abby. And one in a million.”
I throw my arms around him, grind my hips into his, and lose myself to waves of pleasure rippling throughout my core.
He makes love to me at first, whispering words of adoration into my ear. But soon we’re fucking like wild animals, both of us growling and groaning and screaming each other’s names. When he finally comes, he comes hard and inside me, a mangled cry of release and relief escaping his beautiful lips.
When we’re both spent, we lie in the bed together for a long time, stroking each other, kissing and laughing.
“So is this one day?” I whisper.
“Fuck yeah,” Lucas says, nuzzling his nose into mine. “I’ve lived and learned my way to you and now I’m stroking your wings and being your man.”
My heart leaps. “You’re my man?”
“All yours.”
My heart is physically palpitating. “I should warn you,” I say. “I don’t want a fling, not even with you. I want something committed and exclusive or nothing at all. Anything less will be torture for me.”
Lucas grins broadly and strokes my arm. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not letting you out of my sight from here on out.”
I flash him a shy smile. “You’re not?”
“Hell no. You’re mine. You’re coming to LA with me tomorrow. And from there, in a couple weeks, you’re joining me on my world tour.”
“You’re going on a world tour?”
“For a year. And you’re coming with me.”
I’m suddenly anxious. “But I’ve got a job, Lucas. A job I love.”
Lucas shrugs. “So do your job on the road. You’re a writer. Write about the tour or me or whatever you see on our adventures, just as long as you don’t leave my side.” He nuzzles his nose into my hair and inhales deeply. “I fucked up when I let you go and I’m not gonna do that again.”
“But what about my apartment? I signed a year’s lease.”
“Have you heard a word I’ve said? You don’t need an apartment because you’re going to live with me. Where I go, you go. I’ll pay off your lease.”
I kiss his beautiful lips. “But what about when the tour is over? Maybe I should keep my apartment for when we get back, just in case I need it?”
“Abby, listen to me. Get it through your head. After the tour, you’re going to live with me. You’re mine. I’m yours. It’s you and me from now on and no one else.”
I bite my lip, overwhelmed.
Lucas suddenly looks anxious. “You’re on board for all that, right?” He pauses. “Abby, seriously, you’ve got to say yes or I’m gonna be crushed.”
I touch his cheek. “Yes.”
Lucas exhales loudly. “Jesus. You scared me for a second there.”
“Oh, please. You had to have known I’d say yes.”
“I had no idea what you’d say. You’re Penelope Pleasure, dating that asshole. And I knew ‘Abby’ had to be a bit of a mind-fuck for you.” He shrugs. “I honestly thought it was fifty-fifty you’d tell me to fuck off.”
I stroke his face. “I’m all yours, baby. I was yours the minute you walked into The Rockford. I’m yours now.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Lucas says, sitting up abruptly in the bed. “The muse is back!” He leaps out of bed and lurches toward the living area but abruptly stops short and lopes back to me, laughing. “You’re not allowed to leave my side, remember?” He scoops my naked body off the mattress and carries me into the living area, where he places me gently on the couch with a kiss. “Now don’t move a muscle. You’ll be my Kate Winslet and I’m your Leonardo DiCaprio while I write this kick-ass song.”
I laugh and adopt Kate Winslet’s reclining pose from Titanic as Lucas settles himself on the other end of the couch with his guitar.
He plays a catchy little riff. “Oh, man, this is going to be a good one,” he says. He plays the riff again.
“What’s it called?” I ask.
“‘I’m Yours.’”
I cringe.
“No?”
“I’m pretty sure Jason Mraz has cornered the market on that song title.”
“Fuck. I forgot about that motherfucker. Damn.” He plays his riff again, looking thoughtful. “Well, shit. That would have been the perfect title for this one, seeing as how I’m yours and all.”
“Well, thank you for the sentiment. I appreciate it. But Jason beat you to it.”
Lucas smiles as he strums. “Okay, no big deal. I’m really good at this songwriting thing, remember? I’ve won Grammys and everything.” He strums for a moment. “Okay, I’ve got a badass new title for it, just that fast. ‘Tiny Dancer.’”
I laugh and shake my head.
“No?” Lucas asks with a devilish grin, his strums taking on increased enthusiasm.
“No.”
“Already taken?”
“Already taken.”
“Damn it. All the good ones are always taken. Hmm.” He strums for another long beat. “What about ‘Purple Rain’?”
I giggle. “Taken.”
“Shit.”
“So where are we going on tour?” I ask.
Lucas plays an extended version of his riff. “Easier to tell you where we’re not going.” He grins. “And you know where we’ll be staying while on tour?” He winks. “Lots and lots of penthouse suites.”
I bite my lip. “Sounds delightful.”
“Oh, it will be, I assure you.” He hums a melody along with his strumming, clearly working something out in his head. “You and me are gonna have fun together like you wouldn’t believe. All over the world.”
“And what about when we get back from tour?” I ask, suddenly wary. It’s just too good to be true. There’s got to be a catch.
“The fun will continue,” he says simply.
“But where will I live?”
He sings a little line of gibberish as he strums, like he’s got the melody line of his new song, just not the actual lyrics yet. “Well, let’s see. When we get back from tour,” he says, “you’re going to live with me at my place in LA. But we’ll make lots and lots of visits to New York or wherever else you want to go to make sure you stay nice and happy and never get sick of me.”
Elation floods me.
“How’s that sound?” he asks. “If that doesn’t sound good to you, speak up and we’ll make it work. I’m not going to fuck this up.”
“It sounds perfect.”
Lucas strums and hums for another long moment, his wheels obviously turning. “And then at some point we’ll go on tour again. And then we’ll come back again for a while. Sprinkle in some awesome vacations, just because we can. Where’d Hand Job take you on vacation? I saw a photo of that fucker on a tropical beach somewhere and you were in the background in a bikini, trying to be invisible, and I knew right then and there you were rocking his world.”
“You saw that?”
“I’ve been stalking you. Where was it?”
“I don’t know. It could have been Jamaica. Maybe the Bahamas. Possibly the French Riviera. He took me a few places.”
“Motherfucker,” Lucas says. “Bastard. Fuck!” He plays his riff again. “Well, wherever that bastard took you, I’m going to take you to way better places. Places that are a thousand times better, I swear to God.”
I laugh. “I don’t care where we go. I just want to be with you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Well, you’re going to get what you want, and then some.” He plays an extended version of his guitar riff again, his eyes boring holes into my flesh as he does. “Okay, Ass-kicker. Don’t move a muscle. Looking at you is making this song crash into me like a ton of bricks.” He plays an even more elaborate riff followed by a bunch of strumming and humming. “Okay, I’ve got it now. It’s fully formed—just waiting for me to transcribe it.” He beams a huge, earnest smile at me that melts my heart. “God, I missed you, Abby.”
“I physically ached for you,” I say.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to mess with your head. I just had some shit to work out.”
I press my lips together, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. I swallow the lump in my throat. “There’s nothing to apologize for. So, do you have a title for your latest masterpiece yet?”
“I sure do. A great title. ‘Abby.’”
I burst out laughing. “Taken.”
He strums for a long moment again, a wicked smile on his luscious lips. “‘Thriller’?”
“Perfect. I’m absolutely positive that one’s never been used before.”
He winks and begins playing his extended riff again, this time alternating between strumming and picking his strings, filling the room with the kinds of sounds only Lucas Ford can make. “Okay, baby, seriously now, I’ve got the perfect song title. Something no other bastard has used in the history of time. It’s completely original.”
“Is it ‘Stairway to Heaven’?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Nope. It’s way better than that.”
“‘Stayin’ Alive’?”
He chuckles. “Nope.”
“Okay, I give up,” I say. “What’s the ‘completely original’ title of your new song, Lucas Ford?”
“‘I. Love. You.’”
My heart stops.
Lucas abruptly stops strumming his guitar and puts his hands over the strings. “I love you, Abby. I truly do. I love you and I’m positive I’m not going to want anyone else, ever.”
I take a deep, steadying breath. “I love you, too.” I crawl to his end of the couch, put my palms on his cheeks, and kiss his delectable lips. “And, my love, there’s no doubt in my mind I always will.”
* * *
Want More Misadventures?
* * *
Click here to stay in the know!
Don’t miss any Misadventures!
Misadventures of a Good Wife
Keep reading for an excerpt!
* * *
Did you enjoy
Misadventures on the Night Shift?
Please leave a review.
Chapter One
KATE
He always said I had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen.
In truth, my eyes were more gray than blue, but when he looked into them, his face between my thighs, his own eyes searing in their dark intensity, I believed my eyes were blue and beautiful.
“You like that, sweetness?” His words whispered across my wet skin, sending chills through me.
Price always looked into my eyes when he went down on me. He had from the very first time we’d made love back in college. Ours had been a whirlwind romance—love at first sight, as corny as that sounds. After graduation, he’d begun his job as a day trader on Wall Street, and I’d started as a copywriter for The New York Tribune. With luck, we’d happened upon our quaint Brooklyn apartment—cozy and perfect.
Yes, perfect.
Perfect was how I felt every time Price licked me there, tugging on me, his low growls reverberating against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.
And his eyes never left mine.
“God, yes,” I sighed. “Yes, yes.”
He flipped me over onto my hands and knees and gave one cheek of my ass a little slap.
“You have the best ass, Kate.”
Shivers surged through my body. I loved it when he sucked me in this position. Already, I was on the verge. I knew it wouldn’t be long until he—
“Oh!”
Two of his fingers breached my wet channel, and the convulsions began. Price had given me countless orgasms over our years together, and each one always seemed more magnificent than the last. This one was an implosion—every cell in my body coursing toward my inner core. I pushed backward, trying to force his fingers farther and deeper into me.
“That’s right. Come for me, sweet Kate.”
My limbs shook, my arms finally giving way until only my thighs held my ass in the air.
“I love making you come,” Price said, his voice low and husky. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now?”
His words made me spiral toward the peak once more.
“I can feel you, sweetness. I feel you getting ready to come again.” He removed his fingers, and in an instant he was inside me.
That’s all it took. I exploded around him.
“Price! My God, Price!”
“That’s it, baby. I love it when you scream my name. I love to make you come.” He thrust once more. “You hug me so completely, Kate. No one else… No one else in the world but you…”
I pushed my hips backward, forcing him to increase his rhythm. Hard and fast. That’s how I liked it, especially right before he left on one of his trips. He always made sure I’d think only of him while he was gone.
And I always did. He never left my thoughts.
He plunged into me more deeply and then withdrew. Though I whimpered at the loss, he flipped me over onto my back, spread my legs, and then tunneled into me.
“Look at me, Kate. I want to look into your beautiful blue eyes.” Beads of sweat emerged on his brow, gluing dark strands of hair to his forehand. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful.” He thrust once more, groaning. “God, yeah. Feels so good.”
So sensitive was I from my multiple orgasms, I felt every tiny convulsion as Price shot into me.
One day we’d make a baby together. The time wasn’t right yet, but one day…
He collapsed on top of me, his body hot and slick. After a few seconds, he mumbled, “Sorry, baby,” and moved to the side.
I turned toward him and brushed my lips over his. “I miss you already.”
His arm was over his forehead, his eyes closed. “Me too. But it’s only for a week.”
I smiled and kissed him again. “A week sounds like a year to me.”
He opened his eyes and turned toward me. “I know. I’ll call you every day like I always do.” Then he sighed. “I’d better get moving if I’m going to make that flight. An afternoon nap is just what you need. You deserve it.”
The bed shifted as he got up. I wanted to stay awake until he left, but I was exhausted. I’d pulled an eighty-hour week and still managed to get home to see Price before he left. Tomorrow was Saturday. I was going to indulge in a well-deserved session of sleeping in followed by a late lunch with my bestie and then a massage.
“Love you, baby,” I said, drifting off.
His words echoed back to me. “And I love you. Always.”
* * *
I shot up in bed. What the hell was that annoying noise?
Not my alarm. I hadn’t set it. I’d only lain down for an afternoon nap.
The door buzzer. I’d been so sound asleep that I hadn’t recognized the ring. I quickly grabbed my phone off the night table. Noon? Damn. I’d really been exhausted. A wave of regret swept over me. I’d wanted to say goodbye to Price when he left. He was no doubt already in Switzerland by now.
I hurried into some sweats and a shirt and stumbled out of the bedroom to the front door. I opened the intercom. “Yes?”
“Mrs. Lewis? Katherine Lewis?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
“I’m Officer Trent Nixon, NYPD. I have…news for you. May I come up?”
My heart fell into my stomach.
Something was terribly wrong.
* * *
A year later…
“Come on, Kate,” Michelle, my sister-in-law, urged. “You need a vacation.”
“The last year has been a vacation. I’ve hardly worked.” I hadn’t needed to. Price had left me a hefty life insurance policy. With proper investment, I’d never have to work again. Which was good, because apparently I no longer had it in me.
“That’s my point. You have a promising career. A promising future.”
A future without Price? No thank you. I gazed at my sister-in-law. She looked so much like him, with her dark hair and expressive eyes. She even had the same fiery spirit and determination, which she was exhibiting now. Michelle had decided I needed a tropical escape with her. A girl’s trip to some remote island in the South Pacific.