Page 22 of Force Play
I look at her in surprise. “Didn’t expect you to care.”
“I’m trying to be nice, Morgan.”
I laugh and roll my suitcase to rest against the wall before I join Lucia in the kitchen. “You don’t need to make small talk.”
She huffs. “It’s not like I know what normal is for this situation.”
“You think I do?” I reply, pulling myself up to sit on the counter. “I haven’t had a roommate since college.”
“I doubt you even saw your roommate that often.”
“Are you slut shaming me, Spitfire?”
Lucia rolls her eyes. “I don’t care that you fuck around. Just pointing out that you probably spent more nights in someone else’s bed, Casanova.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” I chuckle, resting my head on the cabinet behind me.
“Sounds like a lot of disappointed women to me,” she smirks, taking a sip from her mug.
I smirk back. “I don’t leave anyone unsatisfied.”
“Is that so?” Her voice is teasing, and with the exhaustion clouding my judgment, the sound sends a jolt straight to my dick.
And that exhaustion is clearly the only reason this conversation takes the turn it does.
My tongue wets my bottom lip as I leer over her. “Never had a complaint. And the participants are alwaysveryenthusiastic.”
“Because you have a reputation,” she breathes. “Doesn’t mean you’re good in bed.”
“Wanna find out? You’d have the best night of your life.”
Lucia cocks her head to the side. “I find that hard to believe.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re a fuckboy,” she shrugs. “You get your dick wet and leave. That’s the way it goes.”
I breathe out a laugh and shake my head. “You’ve been with the wrong men, then.”
She turns defensive now. “It’s notalwayslike that for me because I don’tdatefuckboys. The men I’ve dated were always better than the men I only slept with.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Micropenis Matt was great in the sack.”
In the nearly two years I’ve known her, I’ve yet to figure out exactly what pisses Lucia off.
Based on her expression now, though, I guess insulting her ex-boyfriend does it.
“Matt had a good dick,” she scoffs. “Better than yours, I’m sure.”
“Feel free to find out.”
“You’re so fucking annoying.” Lucia stares at me, arms crossed defiantly. “I don’t want to see your dick. I could ask half the women in this city if I ever wanted to know about it.”
“Not according to the NDAs they’ve signed,” I smirk because, for some reason, I can’tnotpush things when it comes to Lucia Torres.
“You’ve been here for ten goddamn minutes, and I already regret moving in,” she scolds, walking off in a huff as her long, black hair falls down her back.
I lean back and chuckle to myself.
