Frisk Me(69)

All of it was wanton and perfect and apparently exactly what she needed because she was on the brink again before she could even register the impending orgasm.

“Condom?” she gasped, digging her nails into his back.

He paused, swearing before he rolled them to the side to dig through his nightstand drawer.

Luc withdrew just long enough to roll the condom on, and then he was inside her again, his hands splaying her thighs wide as he watched his cock move in and out.

“Sims.”

She lifted her hips for him before reaching down to touch herself, and he groaned. Ava had always thought of simultaneous orgasms as an overrated unicorn of sorts, best in theory, if they even existed, but she was dead wrong.

Because when the first shudder racked her body, he was right there with her, bucking against her even as she clenched around him.

Somehow it went on forever and not nearly long enough, but when Luc collapsed on top of her, Ava knew only one thing: She was exactly where she was supposed to be.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN



Ava didn’t push him to talk about it. Luc liked that about her.

Hell, Luc liked a lot of things about her. Maybe too many.

He lost count of how long he lay collapsed on top of her like a post-rut frat boy, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to move after the orgasm to top all orgasms.

Sexual distraction was exactly what he’d been looking for when he’d booty-called her over there, but what he got was in a whole other universe.

When he did finally move, it was only to roll to the side, one arm still draped heavily against her waist.

She wiggled slightly into a more comfortable position before lightly running her nails over his forearm.

It was then that he braced for the inevitable questions. He’d seen on her face that she’d known something was wrong when he’d opened the door to her, and Luc figured at some point he’d have to answer for the fact that he’d just used her to forget his problems.

Just one problem, actually. A big one.

Like the fact that his father had paid off the media to not make a scandal out of the Shayna Johnson case.

His arm tightened against her stomach, but she didn’t stop the soothing motion of her fingers.

Incredibly, he wanted to talk to her about it. Not for advice, or sympathy, or absolution. But just to let someone in.

To let Ava in.

But he couldn’t.

Because at the end of the day, Ava Sims was a reporter.

Even worse, she was a reporter focused on him.

The irony didn’t escape Luc. No wonder his dad and brothers had flipped their shit when they’d learned that he’d found himself in Ava’s bed. His father had risked his own career to protect Luc from the very type of person who was currently cuddled against his side in outrageously sexy lingerie.

It also explained why they’d all been on suspiciously good behavior as they’d welcomed Ava into their little family fold.

The more information the Morettis spoon-fed her, the less she’d have to go digging.

And it was very, very important that Ava didn’t go digging.

It was bad enough that Lopez had let it slip about Mike being Luc’s former partner.

About Mike dying.

About Shayna dying…

He buried his face in her shoulder, and her fingers paused briefly before slowly moving upward so that her palm cupped his cheek.

He kissed it, and she gave a little sigh of contentment.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Hot, raunchy sex was supposed to be followed up with a shower and a beer and a good-bye.

Not cuddling and soft kisses and the urge to share his deepest, darkest secrets.

She turned her head slightly toward his. “Um, Luc. I have to pee.”

Sims.

Her unembarrassed announcement was his out, but damned if it didn’t make him feel oddly tender. He smiled against her hair, lifting his arm just enough so she could wiggle out from beneath it.

His cock was totally spent, but that didn’t stop him from watching her taut, tiny ass exit his bedroom.

He’d had plenty of gorgeous women, but none did it for him quite like Ava.

And not just physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

No.

He pushed the thought aside. She was not for him.

He was not for anyone.

Luc swore softly, punching a pillow out of frustration for thoughts he couldn’t yet sort out. He was tugging his jeans back up and buttoning them as Ava came back in.

Gone were the thigh-highs and garter belt. Back were the short shorts and blue top. The high heels were still on too, which was admittedly sexy as hell, and already his cock twitched at the memory of her standing in stilettos as he ate her out…

But Ava hated stilettos.

She only wore them for show.

And walking.

And since the show was over…

“You’re leaving?” His voice came out rougher than he meant it to.

Her brows snapped together in surprise. “Well, yeah? I thought…?”

Luc’s eyes narrowed. “You thought what? That I called you over here for a blow job and Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and then wanted you to walk-of-shame yourself home at six p.m. on a Sunday?”

Her confusion turned to irritation. “Hey, quit making it seem like I’m the tawdry one here. We’ve both agreed we’re not looking for a relationship. We both know that the sex is awesome. But you have to spend enough time with me at work, I don’t expect—”