Page 87 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
I’m waiting for Nero to text me back. I took a quick picture of her sitting at the bar before I left and sent it to Nero. I asked him if she was the one I slept with that night in Boston. He never forgets a face or a name. Usually, he gets back to me fast. Maybe he’s preoccupied tonight. I’m impatient. If he doesn’t reply soon, I’ll call him.
Just as the elevator doors slide open, my cellphone chimes:It’s her. They gave us fake names, though.
My legs are like jelly. “Damn.”
Why the hell didn’t she say something?Maybe that’s why she seems nervous all the time. But the coincidence is confounding.And was she ever going to tell me?
The elevator begins to close, and I stab the open button. I’m mad. But I’m unable to direct my anger toward her, and it’s for the wrong damn reason. I’m not the kind of guy who lets his cock regulate his brain.
My feet won’t move. I can’t concentrate on the empty lobby. My cock jumps excitedly in my pants. It wants her. I want her. I grab it.Settle down, boy.
She and I are scheduled to meet tomorrow at two p.m. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through it without throwing her on top of my desk and sinking inside her.
I smash the close button and reflexively stare at the ceiling as I ride back to the thirty-eighth floor.What the hell am I going to do when I see her? Confront her? Kiss her?I don’t know yet.
The elevator stops.
The doors open.
And there she stands, alone.
“Hi,” she whispers.
“I want you,” I say.
“I want you too.”
I rub my hand over my heart—it’s beating like a bass drum. “Get in here then.”
I scowl at her parted lips. In a second, I’ll be devouring them. Her skin tightens around her collarbone and neck as she breathes in deeply. I watch her chest rise. I’ll need her tits in my mouth too.
Then she steps inside. I smash the close button before someone else can join us. I’m hyperaware of her standing behind me. She knows what’s coming. And she wants it. Her desire washes over me.
A few floors down, I hit the stop button. I look over my shoulder at Lark.Damn…She’s pressed against the wall. Her lips are erotic. She’s naturally sexy and doesn’t know it.
Just like…damn.I’m hard.
I must touch her. It’s time. I’m on automatic pilot when I reach into her shirt. My hand eagerly frees her warm tit from her silky bra.
I suck air in through my teeth as she lets me squeeze it. Her eyes are vulnerable, needy, wanting.
“Mmm…” I sink my tongue between the crease of her lips. She tastes like cranberry and a flavor that I’ve savored before.
I pull away.
Her eyes grow wide.
“I’ve had you in Boston, haven’t I?” I whisper.
Please don’t lie.If she lies, I might not be able to finish her. Who am I kidding? I’ll finish her tonight, in this elevator, but I’ll never touch her again—maybe.
Her sexy lips part.Damn—she slays me when she watches me with that vulnerable look.
“Our connection goes back further than that.”
I’m breathing deeper, waiting for her elaborate.
“We collided into each other a few days before the restaurant—at the track. It was a coincidence that I saw you at the restaurant. I wanted to tell you about both instances, but I didn’t know how. It was like, serendipity. I’m sorry, I should’ve...”
