Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“I find it hard to believe there’s anyone in this world with as much determination and tenacity as you, Luche. I like Scout. You’re right, she’s a feisty thing, but she loves you. That fact is clear to anyone who sees you together. You’re tired. Get some rest. Once you have a clear head you’ll see things better. I don’t give a shit who this kid’s daddy was. He’s not you. Christos was always a little classier, with a little more stealth, and a little more honesty than Crispin Hughes. That sort of thing sticks with its lineage. Evelyn may be your match, but Hughes isn’t. She’s not the one you have to take out. He is. The thirty days will be over before you know it and you’ll have this fixed in no time.”
“God, I hope you’re right.”
“I am.”
Chapter 17
Decoy
A chess tactic used to lure a piece to an unfavorable square
As the week progressed, things only grew worse. After dressing down an employee in front of the entire lobby, which unfortunately also included the man’s fiancée, who worked on another floor, Lucian decided to head home. It was Friday and for the first time in God knows how long, he was home. Pathetic. So he decided to drink.
He drank whatever was sitting in the decanters on the bar, and then he called room service and had them bring him more. He drank until he couldn’t walk without knocking into things, and he couldn’t stand without the room tipping on end. He drank until his vision played tricks on him, and then he decided it was best to simply sit. So he sat and had a long discussion with himself about what an asshole he was.
His eyes were shut and his head rested on something. He thought he had last sat down on the couch, but couldn’t quite remember. He wanted to check, but his eyelids were simply too heavy to move. When there was a knock at the door he groaned.
“Who’s it?” he slurred.
Nothing.
He decided to fall asleep, then the knock sounded again. “Who’s there?”
When he began to doze off and the knock sounded a third time, he tipped his ass off the couch and forced his eyes open. The world swirled and he moaned until it eventually righted itself. Pressing himself up on his knees, he groped the coffee table, hoisting himself on his feet. Like a marble making its way down a wobbling maze, he staggered, bouncing off the walls, down the hall to the door.
He stretched his eye muscles by blinking hard, then tried to find the peephole. Something sharp shifted in his gut as his hand went to the knob. Cursed fingers yanked on the door only to realize the latch was engaged. He undid the latch and threw the door open.
Unbelievable.
Through his off-kilter, blurred vision he saw three Evelyns standing before him, trying to combine into one as his eyes fought for focus. “Jesus.”
She gave a slight finger wave, but said nothing. He reached and caught air, then reached again and felt the warmth of her skin. Sweet heaven, she came back.
He yanked her inside and slammed the door, pressing her into the wall. Her dark hair was down and she had a lot of makeup on. She seemed so different even though it had only been a week. His fingers ran over her shoulders, feeling her, testing that she wasn’t some sort of conjured dream.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered as he kissed her jaw, her throat.
Peeling away her coat, he threw it to the floor. Her touch was aggressive, needy. His mouth found hers as she yanked the knot of his tie the rest of the way loose. It slid from under his collar with a whoosh, and then her cool, nimble fingers worked the buttons of his shirt open.
His tongue pierced between her lips and went deep, reclaiming her. She tasted different.
“Never again,” he whispered between kisses, parting his mouth from hers to draw her shirt quickly over her head. Something caught his eye, but he was too drunk and lost in the exquisite moment to wonder what it had been. “I’ll never let you go again.”
His cock was rock hard. Her fingers curved over the bulge in his slacks, and he moaned as she fondled him through his clothing. His palm cupped her breast and he stilled. His dick, now fully engaged, seemed to control his fingers as they pinched her nipple, but his brain objected. Something wasn’t right.
She took over the kiss, aggressively gripping his neck and backing him into the wall. Lucian was never one to be directed in sex, yet he went docilely as his simple, brandy-sodden mind worked to understand why this was suddenly so, so wrong.
The wall halted her progress as his back hit it with an ungraceful thump. He watched her dark head as she kissed her way down his chest and dropped to her knees. His cock was already free and in her hands.