Page 4 of Lucky Girl

“That means nothing to me. I would have paid so much more. I saw you, and I had to have you. That was enough for me.”

“You know, I saw you out there. My eyes were immediately drawn to you. I prayed it would be you.”

“I was never going to let anyone else have you, Fee.”

“No one’s ever called me that before,” she says, squeezing my fingers.

“That surprises me,” I tell her.

“It’s just my aunt and me. She’s back home, though.”

“Is that Rita?” I ask, remembering the name of the account holder I sent a part of the money to.

“Yes.” She doesn’t say anything else about her, so I leave it alone for now.

After another sixty miles, I pull off the interstate and into the parking lot of chain hotel. I pull into a space and hop out of the car. I grab our bags out of the trunk and then help her out of the passenger seat.

“Shall we?”

“We shall,” she says, putting her hand in my free one.

At the registration desk, I pay for the best room they have, and we take the elevator up to the fifth floor. I open the door to the room and set our bags inside. Then I lift Fee up, bridal style, and carry her over the threshold. Her delighted giggle makes me happier than I think I’ve ever been.

The hotel room is clean but hot. I swear it could be my proximity to her, but I reach over and turn the air conditioner on.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Oh, my God, yes!” she exclaims, and my dick perks up. I can imagine her saying that in an entirely different context.

“Alright. Would you like to freshen up before going down to the diner?” I ask, referencing the popular 24-hour restaurant attached to the hotel.

“Do I have time to take a shower?” she asks.

“Of course. We have nothing but time,” I say, smiling at her.

“Oh, good. I’ll just be a few minutes. I promise.”

“No rush, really,” I say as she grabs one of her suitcases and heads into the bathroom.

Grabbing my own suitcase, I set it on the bed. Opening it, I pull out a pair of jeans and Henley and change into them, then I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for her to come out. Steam fills the little entryway when the bathroom door opens before she appears wrapped in a too-small towel. It doesn’t really cover anything. I groan as my cock hardens yet again.

“Sorry. I grabbed the wrong bag. This one is just makeup.”

“Don’t be,” I say, my voice strained.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her towel slipping. Her tit pops free, and any restraint I had is gone. Standing quickly, I move toward her.

“I’m not okay, Fee. I’m not okay. I need to touch you. Will you let me touch you?” I ask. I need to hear the words. I want her to want me as much as I want her.

“Touch me,” she says, dropping the towel. I suck in a breath at the sight of her dewy, pale skin. Mesmerized, I watch a droplet of water slide from her hair down her chest. Leaning forward, I lick it up just as it reaches the top of her tit. She moans, and what little bit of control I had snaps like a fucking twig.

“Fuck,” I growl.

My hands grip her hips as I pull her roughly toward me. My lips drop down on hers, and I kiss her before sucking her bottom lip into my mouth. Her hands move under my shirt and roam the expanse of my back, her nails dragging down my skin. I growl, which seems to be all I can do right now. Breaking the kiss, she pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it across the room.

“Oh, my,” she says, her hands moving over the Celtic cross that covers my chest. She licks her lips then bites the bottom one. The very same one I just sucked on. Her lips are going to be so swollen tomorrow. Then she reaches for my jeans, deftly opening the clasp and pulling them down.

“You sure you’re a virgin?” I somehow manage to ask. She nods vigorously.

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