That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(71)

Talk about every childhood fantasy come true. When I decided to bring Eve to the Point, it was on a whim, but now I’m the most grateful motherfucker ever. After I felt up and sucked her tits for a good twenty minutes, I fingered her to completion, and she went ahead and returned the favor. She’s had her mouth on my cock for five minutes, and I’m already about to explode.

Instead of moving her mouth, she sucks harder and grips my cock tighter at the base, shooting all my blood to the tip.

Her tongue swirls; my balls tighten.

Her tongue flicks; my hips thrust up.

Her tongue swirls again, and with one last suck, I’m gone. I’m coming so hard that white spots start to impede my vision and a low, long groan explodes out of me.

“Mother . . . fucker.” I breathe as I release my hand from her hair, realizing I was gripping it rather hard. “Ah, shit, babe. Are you okay?”

She nods as she looks up at me, her eyes watery but happy.

“I didn’t mean to pull on your hair like that.” I massage her scalp. “I kind of lost control.”

She works her way up my body, pressing kisses against my bare chest and then across my lips. “It was hot, Reid. I kind of liked it.”

“Yeah?” I ask, brow raised. “Got a little kink in you?”

“Maybe a little. So keep that in mind when you want to start getting creative.”

“Christ, I think you just made me hard again.”

She rolls her eyes and adjusts her shirt so her tits are securely back in place. Despite my dick wanting to hang out longer, I stuff it back in my jeans and buckle up before turning to watch Eve smooth out her hair.

She’s the same girl I’ve always known, the girl I crushed on for so many years, but somehow even more beautiful. Her strong-willed personality and intelligence turn me on, and add that to her insatiable need for me every time we’re around each other, and I’m just a man head over heels in love.

No doubt in my mind. I just need to find the right time to tell her. And inside a truck right after she’s blown me is not that time. I want something that’s going to make her swoon and leave her with no choice but to say the words back.

“Oral at the Point . . . can’t say I’ve never done that before.”

“What?” I ask, whipping my head around, making her laugh.

“Oh God, that was too easy. You had this dreamy look on your face, and wiping it off was just hilarious.”

“Real funny, now who was it?”

“No one. I was only kidding.”

“Don’t joke about giving oral to other people. As far as I’m concerned, my dick is the only one that’s touched your lips.”

“Okay, keep telling yourself that.”

I will.

I really fucking will.

“Come here.” I pull on her hand and drag her over to my side until she’s sitting on my lap and resting her head on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head and squeeze her tight, not wanting to let go, not wanting to have to drop her off at her apartment.

“What would your ideal date with me be?”

She nuzzles in even closer. “Well, besides giving out blow jobs at the Point?”

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “Besides that.”

“An ideal date with Reid Knightly, hmm . . .” She thinks about it for a few moments, then: “Fishing.”

“Fishing?” I ask, surprised. I was thinking more along the lines of taking her up to Bar Harbor or somewhere just as romantic, but fishing?

“Yes, fishing. We would go out on your boat looking for the best lobsters or crabs or fish, and once we had the catch, we would take it back to your house and cook it together. You’d stand behind me and show me all your culinary expertise while casually dropping seductive kisses on my neck. Music would be playing in the background, those yummy candles would be lit, and there’d be wine available for whenever we wanted a sip. Maybe while we’re cooking, you’d spontaneously pull me into a dance and then dip me and slowly press a kiss against my lips.”

“That’s doable, babe. Let’s plan for it. The night before the restaurant’s soft opening, let’s celebrate by going out on your perfect date.”

“That’s a few months from now.”

“Worth the wait, don’t you think?”

She pulls away so we’re facing each other, her face barely visible in the darkness. “Think we’ll still be together a few months from now?”

“If I have anything to do with it, we will.” I bring her head back down to my chest and run my fingers through her locks.

The words are on the tip of my tongue: I love you. I want to say them, put them out there, let her know this is something special; this is more than me just liking her. I want to tell her about my crush, about how I’m pretty sure a small part of me has been in love with her for a long time, but it took me forever to realize it. But I stop myself. I think I’ll hold out for her perfect date.

I actually couldn’t think of a better time.



Stepping out of the shower, I wipe the fog off the tiny bathroom mirror and lean on the counter. I’m beat. Since I’m skipping out on some Lobster Landing shifts—not all of them, but a good portion—I went at it hard this morning on the boat, bringing in enough lobster to keep my bank account afloat.