The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(71)

“Hang tight, Cooper,” Gray whispers next to my ear, holding me close. I do my best. My body is so still, it feels like I’m balancing on a tightrope. I’m afraid to move, afraid to breathe… until I feel Gray’s dick move inside of me. Good Lord!

“You cannot still be horny,” I whisper into his ear, biting it to get my point across.

“I’m inside of you, Cooper. You can’t expect me not to be horny.”

“There’s a rabid animal circling us!”

“He’ll move on if you’ll shut your sweet ass up,” Gray counters, which pisses me off.

Now I think it’s safe to say that I do not react well when my emotions are running high. I don’t plan. I don’t exercise caution. So his pissing me off, combined with being naked, feeling helpless, and having an animal circling us—not to mention all the stuff swirling in my mind about Riverton—pushes me so close to the edge that I feel the line at my feet, a line that I’m going to cross. I know it. I try to gain control one last time, and that’s when I feel it. It’s a feathery brush around my calf, so soft and light that it kind of tickles. Then I feel something wet and cold. My head moves carefully away from Gray as I look over my shoulder. There, I see a furry black face moving against my leg, nothing but a ball of fur, but I see the long white streak down its back and watch as its tail moves from a soft sway. It ever so intricately raises and I watch it go centimeter by centimeter. I push against Gray’s shoulders.

“Don’t do it, Cooper,” Gray growls because he can feel my panic. He’s holding tight to me. If he wasn’t, I’d be gone. I’m afraid to speak, so I look in his eyes. I’m busy sending him looks that would kill a lesser man. He still doesn’t let go. The idiot is still convinced his plan is going to work.

That’s when the cold, harsh smell of reality strikes us both—literally. The spray hits us and the smell blooms like we just walked into a hog pen in the mid-august. It’s so strong, it literally robs my air, but I don’t have time to worry about breathing. I jump up the minute Gray’s hold loosens. It doesn’t matter that I’m buck-ass naked. Nothing matters except getting away from that damn skunk. I can hear Gray beside me, but I don’t look at him; I’m running as hard and as fast as I can.

And I only have two thoughts on my mind: I will never have sex outside again, and I will kill Grayson Lucas if he ever taunts me with not living dangerously again.





“Whoa! Where do you think you’re going like that??” the doorman yells, grabbing me around the waist. I was so intent on getting inside that I didn’t even see him coming to block the entrance. “Good Lord! What is that smell?” he bellows. I try to pull away from him, but his grip is tight. I hear Gray come up beside us.

“Get your hands off my woman!” he growls like the caveman he is.

My head is swimming, my breath is ragged, and my heart is still beating out of my chest. I’m so hyped up on adrenaline that it doesn’t even hit me that I’m still completely naked—not until the exact moment I feel the doorman’s hand grope my ass. I push away from him immediately, but I needn’t have bothered because Gray is all but tearing me away from the man. I wince at his hold, knowing there will be a bruise there tomorrow.

“What the f*ck do you think you’re doing?” Gray yells, and I can feel eyes on us. Gray moves me behind his back.

“Gray,” I whisper, hoping to get his attention before this gets worse. When I look over his shoulder and see the small crowd gathering, I realize it can get a lot worse. There’s at least fifty people standing around watching us, and I’d lay odds that all fifty have seen as much of me as Gray has. I burrow against his back, feeling embarrassment and shame wash through me.

“Mr. Lucas? What are you doing here? Do you know that young lady? Why are you both naked?” another man asks from beside us. I look up enough to realize that he must be the manager. Great.

Gray can’t take the time to acknowledge the man, though, because he’s taking a swing at the doorman. Which, by the way, makes it very hard to hide behind him. I’ve wrapped my arms around myself as best as I can. Someone is handing me a black suit coat and I reach out to get it. When I see the man holding it looking at my body, it feels wrong to take his coat. I start to anyway, but Gray is there in front of me and he’s holding the black suit jacket the doorman was wearing. He wraps it around me.

“Get the f*ck away from my woman,” Gray growls towards the other men and several others who have joined the small crowd and gather too close for comfort. I feel like I’m hyperventilating. The world is starting to spin, and if I pass out, I figure that will be the ultimate embarrassment. I manage to hold on enough to watch Gray take a tablecloth from someone. He wraps it around himself. The fabric strains to meet at his hips and doesn’t quite make it, but at least he’s mostly covered. He’s exchanging words with the manager and is demanding the doorman be fired. I really can’t listen to any more, and if one more person in the background keeps asking what that horrible smell is, I might go off.

That’s when I realize I’m crying. I feel the tears sliding down my face and it makes me mad. I’m not a crier. I don’t cry hardly ever. And the fact that I’m doing so now in front of all these people who have seen me naked—and in front of an irate Gray who is still yelling about the doorman copping a feel of my ass—pisses me off. I can’t control it. The more I try, the faster the tears come. So before I start sobbing in front of the vultures, I take off toward the elevators.