Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(159)

Uncertainty crashes through me, but I squash it down and sit up, wanting to give him what he needs, wanting to be what he needs. Always.

“Take off your pants, Greg,” I purr, falling to my knees in front of him and unhooking my bra as he complies.

When he’s naked, his muscles rippling with every breath, I lean forward and take him in hand, stroking slowly as I reach up and fuse our lips in a kiss that is all tongue and burning desire.

He’s panting into my mouth and thrusting his hips into my hands, growling softly when I collect the moisture from his tip and use it to stroke him to the edge of ecstasy.

I’ve gone past need and into a realm of desperation that makes my movements jerky and harder than I would have used on his cock.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, and soon his hand is covering mine, squeezing to tighten my grip as he thrusts faster.

“God, Greg,” I moan, loving the unrestrained look of lust on his face and the growling moans that whisper over my lips. “I need you. Please.”

“Then take me, darlin’,” he whispers, unfurling my hand and hoisting me up to straddle his hips.

He pauses and reaches back, coming back with a condom that takes seconds to unwrap and roll on.

“Take what you need, Hannah. Give me what I want,” he orders.

I comply with a moan, reaching down to center him as I balance on my knees and lower myself, holding my breath as my sex opens, swallowing him down till every inch fills me.

We freeze, panting, sharing breaths as we savor the moment before he grips my hips and lifts, pulling back before lowering me slowly.

“I’ve been dreaming of this.”

Me too. I’ve lain awake at night thinking about his touch, his kiss, and wanting him so badly I’ve barely slept since he left. He wants this, needs my capitulation and confessions of need.

I am too breathless to answer at this point, so I use my body instead, clenching around him as I lift up and down, riding him in a desperate rhythm that has me screaming my pleasure scant minutes later.

My pleasure triggers his own, and he tenses, coming with a groan muffled against my neck.

“I missed you too, so much.”

And that scares me because Gregory Lucas has now become more than my lover. He’s a necessity that I can never hope to keep.





Chapter Twenty




“This is ridiculous. Just come, Hannah.”

“No. You said you wouldn’t force me to do this again. You may not feel guilty about a damned thing, but I have a conscience, and I’m not eating dinner with your family and fiancée! And most especially not with Nana in tow.”

Is he being deliberately obtuse? My nana thinks we’re dating, like boyfriend and girlfriend dating, and now he wants me to go to some dinner with him and reveal my completely immoral lifestyle choices? Not in this goddamned century.

As far as I’m concerned, what Nana doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Or me.

“Of course she won’t come with. Josey will remain here with her until we get back.”

“You want me to leave my nana alone on my birthday?” I ask incredulously, shooting him a look of total indignation.

Today is my twenty-ninth year of life on this not so great planet, and I’ve been walking on clouds since I woke up. Nana made me a truly scary-looking omelette and served me breakfast in bed before presenting me with a pair of shoes that look eerily similar to a pair I already own.

It’s been wonderful and happy, and I breezed into work with a smile on my face and enough cheer to light up New York. Until now.

“It’s a business dinner. I want you there in case I have to leave early,” he says stonily, giving me his usual look of command.

“Greg, be reasonable.”

Why is it always like this? One minute I am convinced he’s a good guy, and the next he’s showing me how truly awful he can be. I’ve given in recently and admitted to myself that I feel a lot more for him than plain, old-fashioned lust or like.

Obviously I’ve been sleep-smoking crack cocaine, because I seem to have done the dumbest thing I could and fallen for him. Like, love and babies — yikes — kind of fallen.

It’s been hard and is getting harder to hide the soft feelings I have, feelings I know he does not share. If anyone ever tells you that love is all you need, kick them in the balls and get running, because it’s bullshit.

I love a man who not only is getting married to the world’s sweetest socialite, but is so heartless he’s willing to make me go wedding shopping with her.

And then today he’s decided to add insult to injury and wants to introduce me to his family. Now I know why I’d been so against getting together with him in the first place. I am and will always be nothing more than his mistress, a piece of ass he’s currently interested in but will eventually tire of.