Cheater (Curious Liaisons, #1)(59)



“It’s not cheating if you know.” She repeated those same damn words I’d told her less than a week ago. And I only had myself to blame. Funny, when I said them I’d meant them. Truly believed that if you were that transparent, then it really wasn’t a bad thing. Everyone wins.

Until now.

I’d never been on the receiving end, and it hurt.

It cut deep.

Because if she left my bed to warm someone else’s, I’d end up in prison.

Another kiss to my chin and then my lips. I knew I should push her away—we needed to have the dreaded talk, we needed to . . . I let out a moan as her hands fumbled with the buttons of my shirt.

“What are you doing?” I asked, gently grasping her wrists.

“Taking your clothes off, Thorn. Why? You got a problem with that?”

“Are you going to mount me if I do?” I teased.

Her scowl deepened while her face flushed bright red. “I guess I brought that on myself.”

“Yes.” Still holding her wrists, I backed her up against the bed until she had no choice but to fall backward onto the pillows. I straddled her and pinned her arms above her head. “Now, why don’t you let me kiss you first? It’s only polite before you start pulling my clothes off.”

She nodded and swallowed as I lowered my head to hers. We were a breath apart.





Chapter Twenty-Eight


AVERY

Bad idea.

Bad idea.

Good.

Oh my hell.

Was that his tongue?

So.

Knees buckling, I held on to his firm body to keep myself from collapsing against him.

Good.

I shivered as the aching tension between us intensified past anything I had ever experienced.

Why hadn’t I jumped into his bed before? This was a splendid idea. His lips trailed up and down my neck, causing me to shiver, and then his fingers moved to my dress and tugged it down my shoulders. My flesh was too sensitive for words, and that was just from kissing.

Something about the way his lips caressed my body—something about the way he held me—signaled what we were about to do was a way bigger deal than anything he had with his other girls.

Was this how he treated all of them?

With awestruck worship?

Because it could get addictive—his touch wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced. You know it’s bad when the way someone touches you alters the way you feel about yourself. No longer was I the young, inexperienced brat he’d grown up with.

In Lucas Thorn’s arms, I, Avery Black, was a woman.

“You’re shivering.” His lips nibbled mine before he took a step backward and pulled his shirt off over his head.

I sucked in a breath. “Can you do that again? Maybe slower next time?”

His lips spread into a wide, arrogant smile. “That depends. Will you gasp louder next time?”

“Ladies don’t gasp, and if they do, a true gentleman wouldn’t point it out.” My lips were moving, but my eyes were locked on his insane chest.

“Good thing,” he said as he took a step toward me, “I’m not a gentleman.”

“Good thing,” I repeated, my voice sounding airy, nervous as he very slowly snaked his right arm around the back of my neck and tugged me forward against his solid wall of muscle and heat.

With a moan, I pressed an openmouthed kiss to his chest. “I may just hang out here for a bit.”

I could feel his chuckle against my mouth—I hated how good the vibrations felt. I hated how they made my heart pick up speed, and how warmth spread from my head all the way down to my toes when his grip on my body tightened possessively. I hated all of it.

Not.

“You know this has to be the slowest seduction ever,” he grumbled. “I’ve been waiting years to see you naked, and you nearly pass out when I take off my shirt.”

“Years?” My ears perked up. I waited for details while his hands ran down my back, his fingers locating the zipper to my dress and pulling it.

“Years,” he repeated. “Years.”

“You’ve said that twice—no, three times.” Cold air hit my back as Lucas slid my dress all the way down.

Lucas stepped back and cursed. “Oh, Avery, the things I’m going to do to you.”

I gulped.

His eyes seemed to darken as if a switch had been flipped. I was in his territory, where he ruled—and I had no idea how to proceed.

The last time I had sex hadn’t been so great.

It was rushed.

It was a blur.

It was messy.

Awkward.

Embarrassing.

I left with one sock.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he warned, his voice on edge like he was about to pounce or something—and then, with a wicked grin, he charged me, gripped me by the hips, and flung me farther up on the bed.

Like he was a freaking superhuman.

I’d love to say being manhandled was horrible. Lucas Thorn, boo, you suck in bed—well, may as well make my grocery list while he does what guys do.

Nope.

False.

I bounced once.

“Don’t move.”

I licked my lips and watched in utter fascination as black slacks fell to the floor.

He made black boxer briefs look too sexy. But of course he did.

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