Page 9 of Lucas

Sloth

“To misuse one’s talent, to be cavalier about it, to set it aside because of fear orSlothis unpardonable.”

James Lee Burke

6

Lucas

I goto sleep thinking of sex, and like most guys I wake up with a raging hard-on every morning. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a sex addict. I know this with every fiber of my being since I can’t go long periods of time without getting laid or participating in some kind of physical contact. I’m not ashamed to confess that I masturbate once or twice a day if I’m not entertaining the ladies. Some would say it’s more than an addiction. Perhaps it’s a means to an end where lust has become my only emotion since love is a rare commodity in my family. Unless your name is Landon, of course. Whatever. I’m so over it and I’ve already decided that Saturday will be the last day I step foot on my parents’ property. Or refrain from punching the next person who suggests I see a psychiatrist about said addiction.

My hand glides over my throbbing cock, and as much as I’d love to rub one out, I’m supposed to meet up with the band for practice. Masturbating isn’t my first priority, but coffee is. Caffeine is the only thing that will wake up my sorry ass and get me a tad motivated.

I quickly scroll through my contacts to see if there’s anyone who would take pity on me and bring me one. My finger hovers over Angel for a beat, but I think twice since I don’t have the time or the stamina to keep up with her today. You’d think after dreaming about sex and all things lustful, that coffee would be the last thing on my mind, but right now it’s all I can focus on. So, I tap out a quick text to the only barista who can give me what I need.

Me: If your sexy ass isn’t working, could you bring me a large Americano with a sausage, egg, and cheese on a toasted everything bagel? I’ll do anything you want. And I meananything.

Abby: Mm, very tempting, but I’m working. You need to come here to get the best coffee and food around town. Breakfast is on me, and I’ll make it with my two little hands just for you. Be here in twenty. XO.

I hesitate for a nanosecond before replying.

Me: I’ll be there in fifteen.

I’m not into the whole hugs, kisses, or emoji thing so I spend my time wisely by showering, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed. I make it to Java Joe’s with time to spare since it’s only three blocks away.

The scent hits me in the face the moment I walk through the door, and I swear my mouth salivates. I’m disappointed when I look from left to right and there’s not an empty seat anywhere. Until Abby pokes her head up and waves me over. God, I think I love this woman but don’t you dare tell her.

I cautiously navigate my way through the crowd so I don’t bump into someone and spill their coffee. Hey, I’m not joking. We New Yorkers take our coffee seriously, and spilling a cup might trigger an all-out war. Have you seen how scary some New Yorkers are first thing in the morning?

“Lucas, I’m honored to have you here so early in the morning.” Abby rests her arms on the table and I have a sudden urge to lean over and plant a wet one right on her pouty lips. It’s a fleeting thought, but I decide against it.

“Thanks, Abby. It’s exactly what I needed this morning.” I don’t waste another minute with small talk, I dive right in. That first sip of coffee goes down so smoothly, my cock twitches in my jeans.

Abby waggles her brows. When she leans forward and whispers, “Well, I’m sure there’s something else you need,” while rubbing her foot against my straining cock, I almost choke on my sandwich.

“You know I’d never turn down pussy, but I really need to get going after I’m done. I’m meeting the band, since we can’t get together to practice on Saturday.” I stuff the last bite into my mouth before I change my mind. Her foot feels so fucking good against my cock that I might explode in my jeans.

“You can’t fault a girl for trying. Besides, I want more than a quickie in the ladies’ room if you know what I mean.” She grabs my empty dishes with one hand and waves goodbye over her shoulder with the other. I take that as my cue to leave, so I adjust myself under the table before hightailing it outta there. I wonder if her last comment was a jab, since I’ve seen her atDistractionsa time or two.

I’m half-way to Trevor’s house when my phone vibrates with an incoming text. I swipe the screen and groan.

Willow: Practice is canceled for today. Trevor had a mini emergency with his mom and we’ll meet same time tomorrow instead. Sorry.

Fuck!

A part of me wants to head back to the diner, grab Abby, and spread her legs for a feast fit for a king. But she doesn’t want a quickie, and for me pussies are like chips. You can’t eat just one. They’re so damn addictive and if I eat her out, that will set the tone for the whole damn day. Not that it’s a bad thing, but maybe my time would be better spent writing some new music.

Can’t hurt, right?

By the time I slide open the door, grab all of my shit, and climb the stairs, a sense of peace washes over me. I was born to be a musician. I can feel it in every fiber of my being. It’s what I was put on this earth to do. Some people struggle their entire lives, not knowing what they want to be when they grow up. I can honestly say I knew when I was eight years old—when I held my first guitar. Everything clicked into place like an intricate puzzle that only I could solve. Luckily, my dad recognized my passion and hired the best music teachers he could find to nurture my creativity. Reason being, whenever I’m summoned to attend a grand event at the Knight residence, I’ll shut my mouth and bury my pride. I can totally get away with ignoring my mother, but I’ll do anything for the one man who looks past the poor, struggling musician and sees the potential in me.

So I put pen to paper, pluck a few notes, and the next thing I know the sun is sinking below the horizon. I’ve written two new songs, with lyrics, and now I’m chomping at the bit to play them next time we practice. For the first time in a long time I’m truly happy, and I wasn’t even thinking about sex.

***

Abby

What the hell happened?Did I rub all over Lucas like a horny teenager? Ah, yeah, I did! Why didn’t I pee on his leg in public and call it a day? I acted like one of the slutty bitches from the club, the exact same ones that I hate with a passion. The kind that strut around the club like a dog in heat and hope and pray that someone chooses them for a quick fuck in the bathroom stall. And, wouldn’t ya know, I had to open my big mouth about a quickie in the ladies’ room. What the hell is wrong with me?

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