by LLP, Lan
My plea lights a blazing fire in his gleaming eyes like an explosive match stick. “You want more, baby? I’ll give you more,” he tells me, crashing his mouth into mine. “Brace yourself,” he warns me as his palms glide under my buttocks to give them a boost. My mound is pressed firmly against his erection. “I’m going to give you a morning fuck you’ll think about all day.” He grinds his pelvis against my clit, hitting it relentlessly over and over again until my body starts to tremble, going into an orgasmic shock. But he’s not done with me yet. My thighs are supported with his forearms while he’s on his knees thrusting in and out of me at a downward slope. “Ah…fuck.” His eyes roll back. He’s close. But he’s still not done with me. My body is flipped over so I’m lying face down with his on top of mine. His knees spread my legs apart, the left and then the right. Again he enters me, driving his rod forcefully while he secures my arms above my head with his. My breathing is labored, hindered by the bed sheet ruffled around my face. I’m overcome with sensations, tingling from head to toe. I’m exhausted, but still greedy for my sunset. “Have you had enough?” he asks, kissing along my shoulder and breathing heavily also.
I want to say no, but I fear he’ll go for another hour. My body can’t handle another hour. “Yes,” I surrender.
“Are you sure?” he confirms. Against my better judgment, I shake my head. “I didn’t think so.” Slowly, his firm shaft surges in and out of me like a steady tidal wave teasing the border of a coastline. His lean, tone muscles, coated with perspiration, glide back and forth along my entire backside. This is the melting I was craving for. Every thrust pushes me closer to my sunset until I finally let go. I see bright colors: yellow, gold, red and orange and then I feel heat bursting inside me. The overpowering sensation runs up and down the length of my tensing body. I want to hold on to it for as long as I can, but just like lightning it comes and goes violently and fleetingly. The aftermath I’m left with is a sex glow, a gratifying smile and a hunger for more. Damn. He’s so good at this.
“I think you’re really late for work now,” I gasp. “Your boss isn’t going to like that.”
Grinning, he replies, “You think he’ll fire me?” He kisses my forehead, peels his body off mine and strides into the shower.
I lay here flat on my front, still coming down from my high. It might take me awhile to drag myself out of bed. Between the pregnancy and my orgasms, I’m all spent. Unfortunately, I don’t have any time to spare today, especially since Carson is still here at the penthouse instead of BPC. As soon as he’s out the door, I have to put my new plan into action. Rather than trapping Luke in one of the bedrooms that he’ll easily break out of, I’m going to give him a couple of Carson’s sleeping pills. It’ll knock him out for a few hours until I get back from Sasha’s place. This plot is fool proof. All I have to do is confirm that Carson has removed all the other bodyguards.
“Angel, what are you up to today?” Carson hollers from his side of the closet. “Want to meet me for lunch? I can have Luke drop you off.”
“I’d love to, but I want to tackle that enormous pile of charts in your office,” I fib. This will be my very last lie. After today, I’ll never be dishonest with him again.
“Alright. Don’t work too hard,” he tells me disappointedly as his bottom hits the edge of the bed.
“I won’t,” I reply.
“Good.” My handsome CEO, dressed to intimidate in his black three-piece suit, gazes dotingly down at me and cups my face in his hand. I can’t imagine how many women from his past have dreamt of a moment like this with him and here I am lathered with his undivided attention and love. Yes. I’m blessed. “I want to start a tradition with us.”
“What kind?”
“A morning and an evening I love you. It should always be the first and last thing we hear from each other,” he expresses glumly. Is he trying to tell me something? Is he facing another danger I don’t know about? I can’t help being paranoid.
“I love the idea but why do you so sound sad?”
“I hate saying good-bye. I did it once and it scarred me for a long time,” he reveals. He’s talking about Emily. I can see the hurt on his face. If only I can erase that tormenting memory from his mind.
“I hate saying good-bye, too. Let’s never use that awful G-word.” I smile.
“Deal.” His mouth broadens widely with his dimple sunken in.
“Carson…” I stall.
“Yes…”
“It’s just Luke and me today, correct?”
His eyes contemplate briefly before he answers, “Correct,” and then runs his index finger along the patterned vines of the new bracelet on my wrist. “Remember your promise to me,” he reminds. I nod in response. Leaning into my lips, he kisses them gently and tells me, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
Chapter 21
Carson Bradley
For today’s critical mission, I pulled all the bodyguards and sent them with Alpha’s team. I figure safety in numbers. I pray Lil will heed my warning and stay in the penthouse. As much faith as I have in those men, I still have anxiety clawing from inside out. You can never predict how smoothly a plan will play out. Owen appears confident, but then again his demeanor never wavers. I attribute his strength to his military background. I left him in the business office to work in the lab today. I’m eager to see the live results of the Oss-Meta drug.
Jean’s bright smile is the first thing I spot coming around the corner. “Good news my friend. We’ve done it,” he celebrates. “We’ve ran more than a hundred and fifty tests in the past week and they’ve all passed with one-hundred percent success rate.”
“That’s the best news I’ve had so far. No, let me rephrase myself. That’s the second best news I’ve had so far.” I pat his back.
“What could possibly be better than this news—unless it’s news of a baby?” Jean states.
“But…how did you…already know?” I ask, bewildered and a little freaked out. Lil believes Jean has voodoo powers. Can she be right? How else would he know? We’re still waiting for confirmation from Dr. Laurent’s office.
“So I’m right?” His dense brow arches with a suggestive grin. “I felt her pulse when we last met. It was faint but I sensed an extra set of life beating along hers.”
“Set? Are you implying twins? Jean, don’t bullshit with me,” I warn him.
“That’s what I felt and I’ve never been wrong with pulse readings,” he assures me confidently.
“My God. If you’re right, I’ll be a father to two babies!” I exclaim. The thought of one was already exciting and overwhelming, but two takes it to a whole other level. Okay. Don’t get too worked up until Dr. Laurent calls you. I calm myself.
“We’ll celebrate when she gets her first ultrasound,” he adds with a nudge of his elbow.
“We sure will,” I agree. “If it’s true, you have a very unique gift, my friend.”
Lillian Ly
The minute Carson exits the penthouse, I race out of bed, dress and sprint to the kitchen with two sleeping pills in my jean pocket. I only have a few hours, tops, before Carson gets home. Rummaging through the enormous kitchen, I finally find a blender with steel blades so sharp I bet it could cut through metal. I peel a variety of ripened fruits to mask the medicinal taste of the pills, if there is any. All items are tossed in and the commercial grade motor pulverizes everything into a smooth, yellow-orange liquid in seconds.
“Luke, I made you a smoothie. It’s a recipe I got off Pinterest. It’s full of energy and vitamins,” I offer him.
“I don’t drink smoothies,” he grunts from his corner. Oh no. He’s not cooperating with this part of my plan.
“But I made this especially for you. You look like you haven’t slept for days,” I point out—and that’s no exaggeration either. He looks terrible—even when he’s hidden behind his dark glasses. “It’ll replenish you,” I encourage desperately.
Reluctantly, he gets up and comes into the kitchen
. “Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll give it a try since you went through a lot of trouble to make it.”
Forcing my hands to stop shaking because I’m scared as heck about drugging Luke, I hand over the glass to him. “You have to drink it all or you won’t get the nutritional benefits from it.”
He nods and takes a small sip. “Mmm. Not bad. It’s actually tasty,” he compliments with a smile, making me feel like shit. Finally, he offers me his first genuine smile and what do I do? I drug him.
“See. I knew you’d like it,” I tell him as I watch for his reaction. He’s probably trained to know when someone’s lying to him. I’m sure he can see right through me and my charade. I’m going to get caught. I just know it. My hands are now a clammy mess and they won’t stop trembling by my sides.
“Thanks.” He walks back to his corner with the smoothie in has hand, drinking and enjoying it.
I pour out the remaining liquid in the blender and clean the kitchen, discarding the evidence of my crime. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m terrified. My heart is beating rampantly. I can barely function, but I must. The next step is to call Edison to have him pick me up. I can’t risk taking a cab and have someone on the opposite team identify me. Belle told me he works at his photo studio on Wednesdays, so hopefully he’ll be available or I’ve done all this for nothing. I pad lightly by Luke, checking his vitals from afar. He still appears alert, but it hasn’t been more than ten minutes yet. The indication on the bottle says it may take fifteen to thirty minutes.
Retrieving my paper from underneath my sock drawer, I sit down on a leather ottoman in the middle of the closet to collect myself. I can do this. I want to erase that evil bitch out of our lives for good. I unfold the paper and repeat Edison’s number in my head. My unstable finger makes it difficult to dial his digits. I feel so underhanded and guilty. It’ll be over soon. I convince myself.
The phone rings twice before Edison answers, “Hello, who’s this?”
“It’s me, Lillian,” I reply quickly so he doesn’t hang up on me.
“Lillian, what a nice surprise. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I reply. “Am I interrupting anything important?”
“No. Not at all. What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you at the dance studio lately.”
“Dancing isn’t really my thing,” I admit. “I only did it because of peer pressure,” I disclose. I want to get to the point, but I hate to come across as being rude, especially since I’m going to ask a huge favor of him.
“Oh, I see,” he says disappointedly.
“We can still hang out,” I assure him. “Just not a dance studio.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. Speaking of hanging out, are you busy today?” He couldn’t ask that question at a better time.
“No. In fact, I was hoping you’d be free today. I have a favor to ask of you.” I spring on him.
“Sure. What is it?”
“I need a ride to someone’s house. I’ll explain the details to you when you pick me up. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. No problem. What time do you need me there and where do you live?”
“Can you get here in thirty minutes? I’m at the Zen, sponging off my cousin Carson this week. I’ll meet you downstairs at the curb.”
“It might take me forty-five with traffic.”
“That’ll work. What color is your car?”
“Black.”
“Thanks, Edison. You’re the best. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Looking forward to seeing you again, Lillian.” Something in his voice tells me he’s not just innocently hoping to see me again, but I can’t worry about that now. I need someone to have my back while I’m out and about without Luke.
“Same here. Bye.”
I disconnect our call and dial Sasha’s number to make sure she’s home. The advantage of Carson’s burner phone is it’s untraceable. I’m in luck. She answers after three rings. I memorize her surprisingly sweet voice in that split second and then hang up. One more thing I need to cross off my list is send Carson a text to buy me more time.
Busy working in the library. Text responses might be delayed:(
Thinking of you always. XOX Lil
~~~~
Thirty minutes later, Luke is knocked out cold sitting in his chair. I place a magazine in his hands so security won’t question why he’s immobile. He looks very peaceful. I did him a favor. He probably hasn’t slept this well for days or weeks. I convince my conscience on my way out to meet Edison.
After covering up my tracks and retrieving my hidden coat, hat and scarf in the pantry, I exit through the privacy door. Edison is punctual around the curb. At least I hope that’s his black Saab waiting for me. My head is covered with a wool hat and I have an oversized scarf around my neck and face so no one can see me. Just my eyes are visible. I casually walk up to his car and tap the passenger side window. It lowers down with Edison’s head tilted sideways to see out. “Is that you, Lillian?” he hollers out.
“Yes,” I whisper. He opens the door from inside and I slide in quickly. “Hi. Thanks for doing this for me,” I puff, breathing heavily from my anxiety as well as the chilly air. What an ordeal that was to get past Luke and security. I probably won’t dodge the next two traffic lights before they come after me. My fingers and toes are crossed for good luck.
“No problem. Anything for you,” he tells me enthusiastically while his eyes smile fondly at me. “Where are we heading, baby girl?” Eww. It makes my skin crawl when he calls me that. It’s creepy. It sounds like something a molester would say. Lil, stop it! He’s doing you a favor.
I pull out my BPC stationary with Sasha’s address and rattle off the house number and street name to him. He seems uneasy for some reason. It’s apparent from his crinkled brows and roving eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” He grins, shaking it off quickly. “Who’s this person you’re visiting?” he asks as he wedges his car into the middle of Boston’s dreaded traffic congestion.
“She has something I really need. I’m hoping she’ll give it to me.”
“Sounds important,” is all he says without asking me to expound. “How was your visit home?” He shifts the subject, recalling the last thing I told him from the Make it Magical event.
“It was nice to see my friends and catch up,” I answer concisely. Though I’m grateful he’s doing this favor for me, I don’t want to give him the wrong impression by divulging too much of myself.
“How long have you been doing photography?” I turn the focus back to him.
“A few years,” he replies, surprisingly with no flare in his tone. I find his response to be odd. Most artists I know or have read about are exceptionally passionate and proud of their work.
“Don’t you enjoy it?”
“I do, but it’s just a job, not my passion.”
“Really? I can’t believe you don’t love it. It’s just a hobby for me, but I love it. What’s your passion then?” I ask because my curiosity wants an explanation.
“Expensive cars. I love them all.” Now his voice is animated and full of energy. “Soon, I’ll be driving a Ferrari,” he shares.
“I’m excited for you. I’ve never been a car person. It must be a girl thing.” I chuckle.
“It must be,” he snickers.
Chapter 22
Carson Bradley
Looking down at my watch I realize it’s almost time for my meeting with Bridgette. I find it unusual that Lil hasn’t responded to any of my recent texts, though she did forewarn me she’d be working in the library. Security hasn’t alerted me of anything unusual and I haven’t heard anything alarming from Luke either. I think my paranoia is getting the best of me.
“Mr. Bradley, Miss Longley and a guest are here to see you,” Evelyn notifies me through my speakerphone.
“Who’s the guest?” I ask. I wasn’t expecting anyone but Bridgette.
“Um…he looks like you, sir,” she stammers in a soft voic
e, staggered.
I’m baffled. “What do you mean? Oh, never mind. Send them both in,” I tell her.
Bridgette enters first and then her guest. Now I understand what Evelyn was trying to tell me. It’s as if I’m staring at myself in the mirror. The only difference is his goatee and maybe his hair is slightly darker than mine. What the fuck? My eyes won’t stop screaming about the similarities between us. Did he have cosmetic surgery to look like me for some reason? I meet them halfway, watching him with vigilance.
“Hello, Carson,” Bridgette greets, reading my wary expression.
“Good afternoon, Bridgette and…,” I trail off to allow her to introduce the man standing next to her, rather than be abrasively forward. My guards are way up. I don’t fair to strangers well, especially one who looks like a replica of me.
“This is Wes,” she introduces him. Wait a goddamn minute. I remember her mentioning a Wes. If my memory doesn’t fail me, his fucking surname is Montgomery. Instantly, a heat inside me, much like molten lava from a violent volcano, erupts and is ready to obliterate everything in sight. My throat tightens from the tension of my jaw gritting so firmly together. Why would she fucking bring one of them into my office?
“What’s he doing here?” I snarl. I don’t even attempt to hide my anger. “You know how I fucking feel about them!” I roar like a predatory lion ready to pounce on my prey. My head is throbbing. The vessels along my temple are probably doubled in size with the amount of blood rushing through them.
Overlooking my outrage, he still reaches out to me, offering a handshake. “Nice to finally meet you.” Even his deep, bold voice sounds like mine. I have no desire to respond as I glare at him, at me. It’s fucking eerie.
“Carson,” Bridgette calls out to me. “Don’t be like that. He’s not a greedy Montgomery like the others,” she explains to ease my hate. Wes avoids my scowling eyes and focuses on Bridgette’s face instead. It’s odd that he doesn’t seem to be affected by our uncanny resemblance like I am. “He has something to share with you and I think you better hear him out. Lil’s safety depends on it. She’s possibly still in danger even after you retrieve your researchers today.”