CHAPTER39
LYLA
When we getto his building, there’s a group of guys waiting for the elevator. It’s pretty clear they’ve been day drinking. That, or they’re all insane. In my head, I’m stomping my feet. The last thing I need is to deal with annoying, overgrown frat boys.Why, why, whydoes the universe do these things to me? I avoid eye contact at all costs, as I step forward and push the already-lit button twice. I know it won’t help, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something. Two of them look at me when I pull away from the button. I instantly get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I silently pray that for all our sakes, they don’t speak to me. I look at the other two elevators and see their out of order signs, so we’re just waiting for the one in front of me. Lovely. Behind me, there’s a guy bragging about how much ass he got last night, and another egging him on and telling him that it’s what he’s supposed to do at his bachelor party.
Disgust curls in my stomach. I glance back, because I’m too curious not to, and see one wearing a pin that says GROOM in the middle of words I don’t want to concentrate on reading. He’s now talking about the blonde who sucked his dick. I look at his face, then his friends, then cross my arms and turn around again. I fucking hate people. The feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach gets worse. I hope the bride is getting railed by a guy who looks like David Beckham or Idris Elba, and moves his hips like Channing Tatum. Maybe she’s having a foursome. God, I hope she is. I wish I could call her and tell her to run the other way. I glance to my right and see Lachlan’s fists curling. I step forward and hit the button two more times.
“I don’t think that makes it move any faster,” one of the guys says.
Even though I have ten comebacks for that, I ignore him. The same guy gasps loudly and turns to Lach, whose jaw has been ticking since we left the rooftop. If he grinds it anymore, he’s going to need a dentist.
“Heeeyyy, Duke, right? Lachlan Duke?” the guy says. Lach just looks at him, and because the guy is too drunk to understand that nothing about his face says that he wants to speak to someone, he keeps going. “Damn, man, why’d you retire? You were the best center we’ve had in a while and the best fighter.”
Some others jump in to agree with drunk guy number one. I cover my face with both hands. Kill me now. I’m about to take the stairs just to not deal with any of them. Not that I know what floor we’re going to. I hear Lachlan respond accordingly, telling him some bullshit about the family business. They ask more questions. The elevator finally —finally— arrives. Lach pulls me to his side as we step in, and I stand as close as I can to him, so I don’t even brush up against the guy next to me. I don’t know any of them, so I can’t be sure, but I think he may be the drunkest.
There are so many of us in here that we’re like sardines in a can, shoulder to shoulder with no room to move. One of them manages to hit the numbers. Another one makes the sardines in a can joke. Everyone keeps talking as if we’re in an open space and not stuck in a steel tube. I try to look for the sign to see if we’re at the weight capacity and about to be in a real-life Tower of Terror situation. I picture it happening and quickly refute it. I cannot die with these fucking morons.
“So where are you from, and what do I have to do to see you again?” the drunk guy to my right slurs, his beer breath hitting the side of my face.
I know he’s only speaking to me because he’s drunk, I’m the only woman in the elevator, and judging by their little bachelor party shenanigans, he probably thinks he’s picking me up, but it doesn’t make it less uncomfortable. I keep my eyes forward and bite my tongue.
“Sweetheart,” the guy starts up again. “I just as—”
“Okay, fuck this,” Lachlan mutters and I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my breath. “If one of you touches her, I will kill you. If you flirt with her, I will kill you,” Lach says, the growl in his low menacing voice halting their conversations. “Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t even fuckingthinkabout her.”
They remain silent. The guy next to me stiffens and tries to move away from me. My eyes pop open, and I press my lips together to hold back my laughter. I can’t believe they actually listen and shut up. He’s a freaking lunatic and they’re a bunch of idiots. They outnumbered Lachlan by a landslide. If anything goes down, he’ll be the one who’s fucked, but for some crazy reason, they listen to him. Maybe it’s his height and overall physique, or maybe his reputation on the ice precedes him. The doors open and they all file out quickly, muttering apologies and goodbyes. When the doors close, I step away from him, and the laughter I’ve been holding back bursts out of me. I look up at Lachlan and find him watching me with a pissed-off yet amused expression. The elevator stops again.
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” I say between laughs.
“You think that’s crazy?” He lunges at me just as the elevator doors open and hoists me over his shoulder.
I let out a surprised squeak but stay put. There’s really no point in trying to fight him on this. He punches the code and opens the door to his apartment, kicking the door shut behind us. It locks itself automatically. I can’t see much of it since I’m hanging over his shoulder, but the floors are marble and it takes him a lot of steps to reach what I assume is his bedroom, so I know the place is big. I make an oomf sound as he drops me on the bed. He says nothing as he starts ripping off his clothes — his shoes, socks, and shirt. I watch, enthralled. Lachlan Duke is so fucking hot, it’s insane. It’s not like I could ever forget that, but seeing his body, his face, his eyes right now, gives me an immediate reminder.
Everything about him is perfect. It’s as if someone got the best parts from a handful of hot guys and put them all together to create him. My lips part slightly as he unbuckles his belt, my breathing picking up and my body tingling in anticipation. A small part of my brain is reminding me that I’m mad at him, but the bigger part of it is rooting for me to let him do whatever he’s about to do.
“Take your clothes off,” he demands as he works on his belt. I’m still ogling. He pulls his belt from the loops and whips it so hard on the mattress that I jolt with a squeak. “NOW, LYLA.”
Holy shit. Okay. I spring into action, kicking off my shoes and unbuttoning my shirt. I stand next to him to take my pants off. His hungry eyes take me in slowly, waking up my entire body, as he finishes undressing — taking off his pants and boxers simultaneously. My breath halts at the sight of him. Before I can stop it, a soft moan leaves my lips, and he wraps his long fingers around his dick and starts stroking himself.Holy fucking shit.No fantasy I’ve conjured in his absence could ever do this man justice. I feel myself grow wetter as I stare. I lick my lips. I’m sure I don’t mean to do it, but I know that I do it, because when my eyes flash back to his, they’re molten.
“You want this? You want me to fuck you?” His hand slows down, as his eyes take in my naked form again. They’re darker than ever when they reach mine, a midnight forest. I inhale sharply and nod. “Or are you too angry to fuck me, De-li-luh?”
Of course, he knows he’s making me angrier by calling me that, but he hasn’t been inside me in three years, and I feel like I’ll die if he doesn’t fuck me. Right now, I don’t give a shit what he calls me. I can be angry later.
“I want it,” I say, glaring at him through my lustful haze.
“Come here.”
I close the distance between us, stand in front of him for a moment, and drop to my knees. I don’t know if he wants me to do this, but I need to. He lets out a deep grunt when I splay my hands on his muscular thighs and dig my nails in, as I inch my face closer to him. Before I even have a chance to lick him, he grabs my hair and pulls me so hard, tears spring into my eyes. His eyes are cold and shut off as he looks at me. It’s a sight I’ve never seen on his face, but right now, I only care about what I’m doing.
“I’m not going to be gentle,” he says, gripping my hair tighter. I suck in a breath, arching my back to relieve the pain a little.
“I don’t care,” I say, and manage to narrow my eyes despite the pain. “Just fuck me. Maybe this way I can finally get you out of my system.”
He arches an eyebrow. “You’re going to regret saying that.”
He pushes my head back in position. I look up at him and find him watching me, as I lick from his balls to the tip of his dick. He hisses. I re-adjust myself on my knees and start teasingly swirling my tongue around him. I close my eyes and smile each time he grips my hair like he’s about to lose control. I open my eyes to look at him, as I go back to the head and suck him into my mouth slowly, letting him stretch my mouth as I swirl my tongue around him.
“Holy. . .” His grip tightens on my hair. “Goddamn it, Lyla.”
