and he always made her days a bit more entertaining. Nick was young—her age—and funny.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and the slow echo of traffic in the distance soothed her like waves rushing
by. Her battle to keep her memories at bay failed the more tired she became.
With a sigh of acceptance, she gave over to the random thoughts playing in her head and found
herself back in Lucian’s limo after having dinner with Shamus several weeks ago.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” Lucian asked, his fingers making gentle whorls over her stocking-clad
knee.
“I always enjoy Jamie,” she said.
He grunted, a sound of approval with little censure. “You didn’t eat much.”
“I had enough.”
As Dugan drove, the city slowly rolled by, a tapestry of moonlit blues and shadowed buildings. Her
eyes drew away from the window at the sound of the partition going up. She glanced at Lucian. The
side of his mouth kicked up, intent clear in his eyes. “Pull up your skirt.”
Evelyn laughed silently. As soon as the partition was completely up, she lifted her hips and
shimmied her skirt upward, bunching the thin material around her torso. Her stockings were black
with zigzag designs sewn in and a blunt strip of lace at the top. She wore no garters. Her pale purple panties showed in a narrow triangle at the apex of her thighs.
Lucian turned his back to the door and eyed her. His elbow rested on the back of the seat as his
fingers slowly swirled like a clock gear cranking. The slight telltale motions letting her know gears were turning in his mind. She waited.
“Are you wet?”
His words were like the kick of a marble running between them, knocking over little points, rolling up her flesh and plunking into a basket that set her arousal in motion, successfully plumping her sex and causing her channel to contract. “Yes.”
“I want a blow job.” She shifted and he stilled her with a flick of his fingers in the dim air. “I want your hands folded behind your back.”
Nodding, she slid to the floor. Her arms stretched behind her, fingers latching at her back. Lucian made no move to assist her or pull himself out. Leaning forward, she nuzzled his knee with her nose.
His lungs drew in an audible breath.
Seeing he didn’t plan to help her, she carefully eased up and nudged his suit jacket out of the way.
Her lips pulled at his pants until her teeth found his zipper. Carefully, she lowered the catch.
His thighs shifted, the soft leather seating crinkling under his weight. The gentle tug over her hair as he dragged his palm down the side of her face was welcome. His nonverbal praise filled her belly with warm honey. Turning her gaze on him, she smiled.
“You’re so beautiful, Evelyn,” he whispered, voice thick with affection.
His touch disappeared as the echo of his fingers deftly unlatching his belt filled the car. His cock filled his strong fingers, and he pumped slowly. The head was smooth and dark as his fingers gripped his shaft tightly.
She leaned forward and kissed the tip, a dewy pearl of precum anointing her lips. With a final
glance at him she bent to her task, taking him deep to the back of her mouth. His cock was big, filling every crevice and stretching her lips wide. She sucked aggressively, bobbing over him. He gathered
her hair in a makeshift ponytail and groaned as she worked him over.
She wanted to use her hands, but liked the sense of surrender he elicited by forbidding their
involvement. Her head was forced low. Unhinging her jaw, she welcomed him to the back of her throat.
Saliva coated him, and soon he was controlling her motions, using her hair as a rein to quickly fuck her mouth.
His hips lifted and his cock pulsed over her tongue. The quick touch of two fingers to the pulse point of her throat was enough of a warning that he was coming. Sealing her lips around his flesh, she
sucked deep, milking his release and swallowing every drop.
Once she was sure he was finished, she sucked him clean, offering a final lick up his beautiful shaft and lowering herself back to her heels. He sighed. “Thank you.”
Tucking himself away, redoing his belt but not bothering to tuck in his shirt, Lucian watched her in the subdued light of the limo. The gusset of her panties grew weighted with her own arousal as the
floor of the car vibrated faintly beneath her knees. Dugan would continue to drive until instructed otherwise.
“Still wet?” Lucian asked.
“Very.”
Long fingers caressed his chin and tapped his lips. “I’m debating what to do about that.” His
comment caused her brow to kink. “You were very chatty with Jamie tonight,” he said thoughtfully.
“I like Jamie.”
His expression gave nothing away. “What do you like about him?”
She considered Lucian’s best friend. He had a disposition that always set her at ease. Although he