Seducing Lola

by Jessica Prince Author

  Daphne smacked her forehead as Lola began to talk once again. “See, this is the problem with the younger generation.” Now that definitely hadn’t been what I was expecting to hear. As she continued to talk, I was reminded that this woman was just full of surprises. “You expect to get whatever you want without having to actually work for it. Here’s the hard truth, Rose. Men aren’t born with the innate ability to give amazing oral. Just like everything, it’s an acquired skill, something taught over time. You can’t possibly expect him to just dive in and know what he’s doing if you and all the girls before you never bothered to guide him in the right direction.”

  “Bloody hell,” Caleb breathed, but I was too enraptured by Lola’s passionate monologue to pay attention to anything else.

  “You need to pull up your big girl panties and take the bull by the horns… literally. Grab hold of his hair next time he goes downtown and show him what you want. Use your words. When he hits a spot you like, moan, scream, ‘Yes, right there!’ Do something to let him know what works and what doesn’t. Don’t be afraid to be vocal. You’re in your midtwenties, sweetheart. If you’re unhappy with the foreplay in your relationship, there’s really no one to blame but yourself.”

  “But… wouldn’t he find that offensive?”

  “We aren’t telling you to give him a bullet point list of instructions,” Sophia chimed in, drawing a chuckle from me. “There’s no need to bruise his ego or insult him. You can do it without him even realizing what’s going on. Make it sexy. Compliment him when he does something right. Reward him for a job well done by returning the favor. Trust me, he’ll get off on it and keep doing what you like if he sees it’s getting results.”

  “We’ve said it on this show a hundred times, and we’ll say it again,” Lola added. “You’re just as responsible for your own pleasure as he is… maybe even more so. You can’t just sit back and expect to see the results you want. You have to demand them, work for them. You want the best sex of your life? Then teach your man to give it to you.”

  “I think I’m in love,” Caleb whispered reverently. I glanced over at him to find him gazing through the Plexiglas in complete awe.

  “You really think that will work?” the caller asked, her tone a mixture of trepidation and hope.

  “Oh, most definitely, honey.” Lola smiled into the mic. “Now, you be sure to call us and let us know how it goes.”

  “Okay, I will,” Rose replied enthusiastically. “Thanks, you guys. This was exactly what I needed to hear.”

  “No problem. We’re happy to help out. And we look forward to hearing from you again, Rose.”

  The call dropped and I listened with an amused smile on my face as the show came to a close. Jerry flipped the switch that allowed them to hear what was happening on our side of the booth. “All right, ladies, that’s a wrap. Good show.”

  I stood, prepared to make my presence known, when Caleb spoke, pulling my attention back to him. “Now I see why you’re so hung up on this chick, man. She’s hot and fucking brilliant.”

  He wasn’t telling me something I didn’t already know. Lola Abbatelli was the total package.

  Lola

  I GAVE A small start after I removed my headset and turned toward the control booth, only to come face-to-face with the man who’d been plaguing my thoughts for the previous two weeks. To say the images that had been running through my head for the past several days were not safe for work would’ve been a massive understatement.

  The second his green eyes met mine, a wicked smile spread across his face, sending a bolt of electricity straight between my thighs. I was in big trouble.

  “Looks like someone’s got an admirer,” Sophia teased, tearing my rapt attention from Grayson.

  I skewered her with a glare and muttered, “Shut it, jerk,” just as the door between the sound booth and the studio opened.

  Grayson sauntered in like he owned the place — because he kind of did — followed closely by a man of equal height and similar stature. The stranger’s hair was a few shades lighter than Grayson’s but his smiling eyes had hints of brown in the grassy green. While Grayson’s friend was definitely handsome, he didn’t possess the same all-consuming charisma. His presence wasn’t as potent… at least not where I was concerned.

  Turning my gaze from the unknown man, I narrowed my eyes at Grayson and demanded, “What, are you stalking me now?”

  My attitude — the very same attitude that had men running scared all my life — didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. His smile expanded as he came closer, stopping only a few feet away — far enough to maintain an air of professionalism, but still close enough for me to get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. He looked good… damn good. The pale green button-down shirt he wore highlighted the color in his eyes. Two buttons at his collar were undone, giving me a tantalizing peek at the tan skin of his neck. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, his thick, corded forearms on prominent display. I hadn’t really noticed the appeal of a man’s forearms before, but something about Grayson’s drove me crazy. He had sexy forearms. He had sexy everything.

  “Just wanted to catch the show in person. Once again, you ladies didn’t disappoint.”

  My cheeks caught fire at the realization that he and his friend had a front row seat as I offered advice on the art of cunnilingus to a caller. Instead of letting my insecurities show, I straightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, propping my hands on my hips in an effort to appear unaffected. “Well, glad we could keep you entertained,” I replied snootily.

  “Hi. Caleb McMannus. Huge fan of the show. Huge.” The stranger who’d been standing silently next to the bane of my existence stuck his hand out for me to shake. I returned his gesture and introduced Sophia, Daphne, and myself, in that order. As soon as I spoke her name, he turned his attention on Daphne. The way his eyes flared with desire as he looked at her was impossible to miss.

  Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.

  “Hi, I’m Caleb,” he repeated, as though dazed by just the sight of her. “I’m an Aquarius, thirty-five years old, the CFO of Bandwidth, and I learned the proper way to go down on a woman when I was sixteen.”

  Daphne’s eyes bugged out.

  Sophia snorted.

  I choked on my tongue.

  And Grayson rattled off a litany of cuss words. “Excuse my friend,” he offered up as an apology. “He was dropped on his head as an infant… a lot.”

  Daphne visibly bit the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. If the guy who’d just made a complete ass out of himself wasn’t the CFO of the company that owned our company, we never would’ve let him live down the word vomit he’d just subjected us all too.

  “Uh… good to know, I guess,” she offered somewhat amicably before looking at me with an expression that screamed “Help a sista out.”

  “Well, it’s been a pleasure and all, but we were just heading out to lunch, so….” I threw my thumb over my shoulder as I slowly started backing away.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” Grayson chided. “Not so fast. You and I have lunch plans.”

  “We most certainly do not!” I shouted, knowing damn good and well that being alone with him would ultimately lead to my downfall. I’d had a weeklong break from the man and my lady bits still got tingly every time I thought about him. I needed to stay as far away from him as possible. Only he was making it impossible. The son of a bitch.

  Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Grayson appeared completely at ease as he declared, “Ah, but we do. Or have you forgotten our little ruse already? You owe me. I’m here to collect.”

  That motherfu—

  “Well, we should be going!” Daphne chirped. “We’ll see you later, Lo.” Then the traitorous wench hooked elbows with Sophia and the two of them bolted for the door. I was going to kill them, murder them dead. I’d been dying for Dough House’s dumplings for ages, and they’d just abandoned me. The backstabbing bitches.

  “I’ll walk you out!” Caleb shouted after
them. Seconds later the door to the studio clicked shut, leaving Grayson and me alone — painfully, obviously alone.

  “My friends are dead to me,” I muttered to myself before pulling in a fortifying breath and turning back to the man who made my blood pressure spike. “Well, if you’re going to feed me, let’s do this thing. I’m starving, and I have a tendency to be very dangerous when I’m hangry.”

  “Hangry?” he asked on a laugh.

  “Hungry and angry. Not a good combination.” I yanked the door open and started for my desk to get my purse. The sound of Grayson’s footsteps echoed the click of my heels the whole way to the elevator bank. I was acutely aware of all the attention we’d drawn; if I wasn’t afraid of getting fired — or walking into another glass wall because I wasn’t paying attention — I would’ve flipped each and every one of them the bird.

  “So where are we going?” I asked as the heavy steel doors closed and we began our decent.

  “I made a reservation at Altura. I hope that works for you.”

  I stared in silent amazement for several seconds. My mouth was more than likely hanging open, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a bit of drool. Altura was one of the best Italian restaurants in Seattle. It was the mother ship for all the Italians in the city. Of course that worked for me.

  His laughter reverberated off the walls of the near-empty elevator. “I’m taking it by the crazy look on your face that Altura works for you.”

  “It’ll do,” I answered haughtily, not wanting to give away the fact that my mouth was practically watering. “You should have led with that. I wouldn’t have put up a fight about going to lunch with you if I’d known where we were going.”

  Grayson stepped closer, leaving barely enough room between us for air to slide through. “Yeah, but I’m quickly coming to realize that I like it when you put up a fight. You’re attractive always, but there’s just something addictive about you when you’re fighting mad.”

  I tried my best to appear disgusted while my neck burned like fire and tiny bolts of lightning shot straight to my core. “A psychiatrist would have a field day with you, you know that? Maybe you should consider making an appointment. I think you need help.”

  I needed help. I needed a lot of help when it came to Grayson Lockhart.

  Maybe I should consider taking my own advice.

  His hand rested against the small of my back, sending an electric current of awareness through my body. Common sense told me to shake off his touch. But I told common sense to screw the hell off. I wanted to feel that warmth against my back. I wanted it more than was healthy.

  We remained in silence as we stepped off the elevator into the lobby. People all around us seemed to stop and stare, not that I could blame them; Grayson was fine enough to stop traffic. But the attention was more than just a little disconcerting, especially when the hand on my back slid around my waist and his large palm settled firmly on my hip, pulling me against his side.

  I could see people from the corner of my eye leaning into each other and whispering as we passed. One of America’s most eligible bachelors appeared to be smitten. Us canoodling in the lobby of Hart Tower for all to see was apparently pretty headline-worthy.

  “How much longer do we have to keep up this charade?” I asked in a hushed tone. Walking side by side, one of his arms holding me close while both of mine hung at my sides, was too awkward. I had no other choice but to return the gesture and wrap an arm around him to make it less uncomfortable. I tried my hardest not to fixate on the solid, rippled muscles beneath his shirt. Stupid gorgeous muscled man. “Your image doesn’t look the slightest bit stained to me. So how long am I going to be forced to keep this up?”

  His arm tensed, forcing me even closer. “You make it sound like being in my company is miserable.” I looked up to find him grinning down at me, humor glinting in his mesmerizing eyes. “Careful, Lola. You might just bruise my delicate ego.”

  I snorted as we pushed through the wide glass doors and headed out onto the busy sidewalk. “Something tells me there’s nothing delicate about you.” For crying out loud, Lola! Are you flirting? I was quickly losing my mind. Sad thing was, it kind of excited me.

  “You know what I think? I think you’re starting to like me.”

  I didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. I’d always been a horrible liar, so telling him he was wrong would’ve been pointless. He’d have seen right through my lie. The truth was I did like him. And that terrified the shit out of me.

  “What?” he chided as he opened the back door of a sleek black town car and helped guide me in. “Nothing to say? No witty comebacks or cutting barbs? I’m a little disappointed in you.”

  That made two of us.

  I worked to keep the conversation light and innocuous the whole way to the restaurant. It was safer that way, at least for me. As soon as we entered the restaurant, he pulled me flush against his side once again, and once again it didn’t go unnoticed.

  “How do you stand it?” I asked once we were seated at our table and the busboy disappeared after quickly filling our water glasses.

  “Stand what?” he asked, his forehead furrowed with curiosity as he gazed across the table at me.

  “Being watched. I’ve been out with you twice now and even I’m getting uncomfortable by the amount of attention you garner. How can you stand it?”

  Before he could answer, the waiter stopped by. We gave him our order — I didn’t even have to look at the menu to know what I wanted — and he left us alone once more.

  Grayson took a slow drink of water, appearing to give my question serious thought. “Honestly, I’ve just been forced to get used to it. The attention on me started to get really bad after I graduated college. It got to the point that I actually got into a fight with one of the photographers who’d been following me around. I was in a relationship at the time and we were coming back from a date. The fucker was lurking around outside my house, waiting for us to get back, and when we finally showed up he started in on Fiona, saying some nasty shit to try and get a rise out of me.”

  “Fiona?” I found myself asking as a heavy ball of tension settled in my stomach. It was completely ridiculous, but hearing the name of one of his exes made her seem more real. And I really didn’t like that.

  “My girlfriend at the time,” he confirmed, making that ball twist even more.

  “Is that the one you dated for several years?” I knew it was irrational, but I couldn’t help the sudden spike of jealousy.

  “Yeah. Anyway, he was spouting some pretty foul stuff, and I kind of lost it. I ended up smashing his camera and breaking his nose in the process.” My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as I imagined Grayson kicking some piece-of-shit photographer’s ass. I had to admit, the mental picture was hot as hell.

  “Good. Sounds like the asshole deserved it. I hope it was painful.”

  “Well….” He chuckled quietly. “I think in the end it hurt me more than him. I was arrested for assault and battery. The charges didn’t stick, but he filed a civil suit that cost me more than it was worth. After Fiona and I broke up, I realized that dating anyone was going to be impossible if I didn’t grow thicker skin. As the years passed, they stopped being so relentless when I quit giving them shit to write about. Unfortunately, it’s jaded me a bit. I’ve had to be a lot more careful about who I bring into my life. It’s insane how many women out there get off on a few pictures in a magazine. But I will say this.” His smile grew wicked, sinful, and it made me quiver a little bit. “Hearing the sound of that bone breaking was satisfying as fuck.”

  I couldn’t have held my smile back if I wanted to, but I found that the longer I stayed in his company the more I wanted to smile. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a very long time, excitement being the most prominent of them all.

  “God, you really have a beautiful smile.” The awe in his tone made me pause with the water glass halfway to my mouth.

  I never felt as out of so
rts as I did when I was with him. Because of that I found myself asking a question I hadn’t expected.

  “What do you want from me, Grayson?”

  Lola

  HE DIDN’T EVEN hesitate in answering. “I think I’ve made it quite clear what I want from you, Lola.”

  Those electrified, reinforced walls I’d built to protect my heart from being trampled on ever again started to shake and buckle under the weight of his penetrating gaze. I had to stand strong or I’d risk being hurt. It was pathetic to think that I made a living giving other women relationship advice yet was too much of a coward to go after something of my own, but that was just my reality. Fool me once, shame on you and all that… but to have been fooled as many times as I’d been was my own damn fault. I wouldn’t go there again.

  “If this is about getting in my panties, I have to tell you, there are easier ways.” The words came out biting, angry. The uncertainty of everything I was feeling caused me to lash out.

  “You really think that’s what I’m after?” he asked in a low, ominous voice as he leaned over the table.

  “Isn’t it? Isn’t that all men are really looking for, a woman who’ll put up a challenge just long enough to be fun? But once it’s over—” I shrugged. “—what then? You don’t really expect me to believe you’re interested in me for more than a couple of fun rolls in the hay, do you?”

  “Jesus Christ.” He let out a perplexed laugh but his features held no animosity, no frustration at my stubborn refusal to believe it was anything more. “What happened to make you so goddamned cynical?”

  “Life.” I shrugged again, picking up my water and taking a huge gulp to alleviate the dryness in my throat. “Life happened.”

  I shouldn’t have said it. I really shouldn’t have. Because I’d just given him the ammunition he needed to continue pushing.

  The waiter quietly dropped off our orders as Grayson and I studied each other like specimens under a microscope. Once we were left to our meal, he insisted on knowing all the dirty details. “Tell me. Who caused you to be so pessimistic?”