bored him.
A vision of Alyssa burst across his brain. His cock jumped in his hand,
and he stroked it eagerly, hungrily.
Why her? Of course she was sexy. A man would have to be blind not
to notice her beauty, the easy sway of her hips, those blue eyes that could
tempt a man to sin. But today had shown him sides of Alyssa he hadn‟t
known.
She was smart and determined. Bonheur proved that. She‟d done a
great job building the restaurant, despite not knowing a lot about the
business. And she was brave—maybe too much so for her own good. That
knife a prank? He didn‟t think so. But she‟d taken it in stride. No drama, no
tears, no hysteria. She was one cool customer. And she understood the
43
Shayla Black
people around her. Remy, Homer, Tyler, even the girls at her club. She
seemed to know exactly what to say for maximum results.
All that only made him desire her more. Writing her off had been easier
when he‟d assumed she was just a good lay. Now . . . she revved him up
on a whole new level. Damn it .
He stroked faster, tingles leaping up his cock. He swiped a thumb
across the head and hissed in pleasure. His thighs tightened, and he
clenched his jaw, picturing the way Alyssa had danced at rehearsal this
afternoon, as if dancing for him alone. He envisioned her masturbating,
fingering her way to orgasm, then lifting to him in invitation.
In his head, he again heard her beg him to fuck her. Pleasure soared.
His hand moved faster on his turgid flesh, his rhythm and hold almost
brutal. Need clawed its way from his balls, up his dick. Orgasm wasn‟t far
behind . . . and thoughts of Emily were long gone.
In that moment, pressure built and heated. It burst, Alyssa at the
center of the storm. Clamping his lips shut, he groaned as orgasm
slammed him, clenching his balls, cramping his stomach. Semen spurted
into the porcelain tub, then washed with the water down the drain.
Luc leaned against the tile, more relaxed, but vaguely unsatisfied. Yes,
he‟d gotten off, but need still keyed him up. His hand was a lousy substitute
for Alyssa.
He dropped his grip from his cock and turned off the shower. Damn,
he felt worse now. Not high on lust anymore, but confused. Depressed.
What the hell was the matter with him?
You want something you can’t have, the voice in his head taunted him.
He‟d tell it to shut up . . . but it was right.
Grabbing the shower curtain with an impatient fist, Luc thrust it back.
To his shock, Alyssa stood three feet away, hip leaned against the vanity, a
towel in her hand. She looked furious—and hurt.
“So, was that good for you?”
44
Shayla Black
ALYSSA was still furious six hours later as she pounded on the
punching bag hanging from the ceiling in her spare bedroom. With a grunt,
she kicked it once, twice, then followed with a mean right hook.
What was Luc thinking? She‟d offered herself to him—something she
never did for any man—and he‟d self-pleasured in the shower. Of course
he thought she offered herself to anyone with a Y chromosome and didn‟t
understand that she‟d invited him alone because he was special, because
she thought . . . maybe there was something more between them than
fabulous sex.
Stupid.
Another kick, another punch. Sweat rolled down her body. It wasn‟t
relieving her tension.
Before she‟d guilted Luc into staying, he‟d mentioned that he was
dating someone else. The thought of him with another woman made her
stomach tighten. Insecurity blindsided her. Was Luc sleeping with this
woman? Did he want his new girlfriend more than he wanted her? Was he,
God forbid, in love with her?
She had to know. Throwing herself at a man whose heart belonged to
someone else was both pointless and embarrassing. For a while, she‟d
been sure Kimber was it for him, but then Deke had married her. Then
Alyssa had heard through the grapevine that Luc‟s involvement with the
couple was over, and she‟d had fresh hope. Now . . .
A vision of Alyssa burst across his brain. His cock jumped in his hand,
and he stroked it eagerly, hungrily.
Why her? Of course she was sexy. A man would have to be blind not
to notice her beauty, the easy sway of her hips, those blue eyes that could
tempt a man to sin. But today had shown him sides of Alyssa he hadn‟t
known.
She was smart and determined. Bonheur proved that. She‟d done a
great job building the restaurant, despite not knowing a lot about the
business. And she was brave—maybe too much so for her own good. That
knife a prank? He didn‟t think so. But she‟d taken it in stride. No drama, no
tears, no hysteria. She was one cool customer. And she understood the
43
Shayla Black
people around her. Remy, Homer, Tyler, even the girls at her club. She
seemed to know exactly what to say for maximum results.
All that only made him desire her more. Writing her off had been easier
when he‟d assumed she was just a good lay. Now . . . she revved him up
on a whole new level. Damn it .
He stroked faster, tingles leaping up his cock. He swiped a thumb
across the head and hissed in pleasure. His thighs tightened, and he
clenched his jaw, picturing the way Alyssa had danced at rehearsal this
afternoon, as if dancing for him alone. He envisioned her masturbating,
fingering her way to orgasm, then lifting to him in invitation.
In his head, he again heard her beg him to fuck her. Pleasure soared.
His hand moved faster on his turgid flesh, his rhythm and hold almost
brutal. Need clawed its way from his balls, up his dick. Orgasm wasn‟t far
behind . . . and thoughts of Emily were long gone.
In that moment, pressure built and heated. It burst, Alyssa at the
center of the storm. Clamping his lips shut, he groaned as orgasm
slammed him, clenching his balls, cramping his stomach. Semen spurted
into the porcelain tub, then washed with the water down the drain.
Luc leaned against the tile, more relaxed, but vaguely unsatisfied. Yes,
he‟d gotten off, but need still keyed him up. His hand was a lousy substitute
for Alyssa.
He dropped his grip from his cock and turned off the shower. Damn,
he felt worse now. Not high on lust anymore, but confused. Depressed.
What the hell was the matter with him?
You want something you can’t have, the voice in his head taunted him.
He‟d tell it to shut up . . . but it was right.
Grabbing the shower curtain with an impatient fist, Luc thrust it back.
To his shock, Alyssa stood three feet away, hip leaned against the vanity, a
towel in her hand. She looked furious—and hurt.
“So, was that good for you?”
44
Shayla Black
ALYSSA was still furious six hours later as she pounded on the
punching bag hanging from the ceiling in her spare bedroom. With a grunt,
she kicked it once, twice, then followed with a mean right hook.
What was Luc thinking? She‟d offered herself to him—something she
never did for any man—and he‟d self-pleasured in the shower. Of course
he thought she offered herself to anyone with a Y chromosome and didn‟t
understand that she‟d invited him alone because he was special, because
she thought . . . maybe there was something more between them than
fabulous sex.
Stupid.
Another kick, another punch. Sweat rolled down her body. It wasn‟t
relieving her tension.
Before she‟d guilted Luc into staying, he‟d mentioned that he was
dating someone else. The thought of him with another woman made her
stomach tighten. Insecurity blindsided her. Was Luc sleeping with this
woman? Did he want his new girlfriend more than he wanted her? Was he,
God forbid, in love with her?
She had to know. Throwing herself at a man whose heart belonged to
someone else was both pointless and embarrassing. For a while, she‟d
been sure Kimber was it for him, but then Deke had married her. Then
Alyssa had heard through the grapevine that Luc‟s involvement with the
couple was over, and she‟d had fresh hope. Now . . .
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