Page 47 of Sweet Little Lies
Chapter 18
Mica
Lance picked me up at my apartment just before nine, flowers in hand and kissing me sweetly at the door as I let him in with a silly grin on my face.
My heart let out a little sigh of contentment and happiness. A knot of butterflies unfolded and fluttered in my belly as he walked in, the scent of him lingering with every step.
This party tonight isn’t something I want to go to, but the way that Lance makes me feel when I’m with him – well, I’d do anything for him. I told myself I can hang with his old friends for a few hours if it meant I could be with him. That’s what friends do. They support each other.
Even though I have ulterior motives. I really want him to stay the night with me.
I grab my purse and we head out the door, but not before he stops and ravishes me with his eyes.
“You look smoking hot tonight. Shit, my boys are going to be so jealous.”
He whistles and spins me around with an admiring gleam in his eye, licking his lips as he does. I’m not wearing anything special. Just the skirt he mentioned liking, along with a flowery see-through blouse with a black tank underneath and shoulder cut-outs. When I steady myself to face him, he grins and leans down to place his lips on the skin exposed on my shoulder.
I hum at the contact, wanting him to explore more of my flesh with his mouth. When I feel his hands grip under my ass and squeeze, he groans and pulls me flush to his body. His mouth seeks mine and kisses me hard – as if he’s been pent up for ages. As if we hadn’t just seen each other mere hours before.
But I don’t mind. I let it happen because what else can I do? I want him just as bad. When I’m with Lance, I don’t think about consequences or responsibilities. I don’t worry about all the expectations my family has of me or doing what they want me to do.
When I’m in his arms, I’m just me.
Desired. Appreciated. Wanted.
His hand travels the length of my thigh, underneath the skirt, finding the bare skin of my ass. I wore a thong tonight and when his finger traces the lacy material in the crevice between my cheeks, I feel the hard length of his arousal pushing into my stomach.
I pull away from his kiss to catch my breath but also to make a recommendation.
“The way I see it, we have two options.”
His brow quirks inquisitively as he squeezes my ass and then swats it with his hand.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that exactly?” he asks playfully.
I bat my eyelashes and wiggle my hips. “Well, we could either go to the party and be surrounded by people. Or, we could stay here in the privacy of my bedroom and you can see what’s under this skirt.”
His response makes me feel like a powerful coquette wielding my magic with my words and body.
With eyes closed tight, mouth rigid and his head thrown back, he groans as if this is a painful proposition.
“Georgie, you’re killing me,” he murmurs in a low, taut voice. And then he takes a step back, at least an arm’s length distance and sighs. “You have no idea how hard you make this for me. It’s unfair, really but I promised my buddy I’d show up tonight. So let’s go, make a quick appearance, I’ll have a beer or two and introduce you to everyone, and then I’m bringing you back here. And because of your naughty little suggestions, I’m not gonna go easy on you.”
His body is suddenly back in front of mine, crowding me until I’m backed up against the door. I have to tip my head way back to stare at his eyes, which are wild and feral. Like a caged animal.
“I’m gonna fuck you fast and hard. I may even lose control, because that’s how you make me feel. You make me lose it completely.”
His words are harsh. Penetrative. Forceful. But they’re cushioned with the gentle glide of his hand down the back of my head. It only just proves the fact that there are two sides of him at any given time.
He’s sometimes the sweet and tender man and other times he’s also the rough, unleashed and maybe even a little lost man.
Both turn me on. Make me weak in the knees. And turn to my heart to a sopping mess.
“Okay, I can live with that.”
I open the door and he follows closely behind me, grabbing onto my hand to thread his fingers through mine to guide me to his car.
And it’s just like this that we drive to the bar on the opposite side of town. With my hand in his, either to cherish me or for fear of letting me go.
