Lacey

"Shit," I muttered, watching Lucas William Drake weave his way through the crowd.

My fingertips were pressed to my lips. They still tingled from where he'd kissed me less than a minute ago. It wasn't just my lips still tingling. None of this was supposed to happen. My intention had been to allow him to continue making a fool of himself by not remembering me—the girl he once claimed was his best friend. At first, I thought he was joking, or lying, to get me to speak to him again. However, it turned out he honestly didn't remember me, and I wasn't sure if I should be relieved or feel worse for allowing him to turn that Lucas Drake–shaped knife in my gut even more.

He wasn't supposed to kiss me. And it sure as hell wasn't supposed to feel like that. Blood on fire, knees quaking, skin tingling, mind-blowing fireworks . . . all in that one kiss. My knees were still wobbling as I returned to the bar to find Rachel. She was right where I left her, sitting beside Justin and just as shocked as I was. The two remained intentionally and playfully silent when I approached.

Shit.

"So, I'm going to go with Luke." I used my thumb to point to the main entrance.

"Did you tell him yet?" Justin asked. "Lace, I've never seen him so scared to talk to a girl before. You need to tell him."

Justin Carmichael had recognized me immediately. After my dad's promise that Luke was in North Carolina, I never imagined he'd show up here. There was no doubt in my mind now Justin was the reason for the surprise showing. Clearly, he neglected to mention I was here. I should have been pissed, but whatever, I got a good laugh from it. After all these years, Luke looking like an idiot for a few hours was the least he could do.

"I'll tell him on the way home. I'm staying at the Drakes' house this weekend. At least now he has a reason to hate me. Nothing new."

Justin's smile fell. "He doesn't hate you. He's not the same person you remember."

A falling out for no reason, and seven years of silence, begged to differ.

"Lacey, you kissed him!" Rachel's giggles were loud—and Jack Daniel's induced. "You kissed Luke!"

"He kissed me." A single finger was held up to clarify.

Luke instigated the kiss. I played a game with him, and may have ground my ass into his erection, but I never intended to kiss him. As for kissing back, I definitely didn't intend that. But then, it wasn't supposed to be panty-dropping. Damn him.

"So, we didn't witness you kissing him back?" Rachel shared a look with Justin. "Okay, then. If that's the story you're going to go with."

Annoyed, I waved them off with a promise to call Rachel in the morning.

I found Luke exactly where he'd promised to be—standing beside the entrance, now void of the blue glow I'd seen him in all night. He was different, but oddly still the same boy I remembered. The rogue blond curls he had as a child were short now and tamed by a haircut that forced them to stay in place. He'd grown at least a foot since our last encounter and had to be pushing a few inches over six feet. And he was all muscle—a fact I had confirmed when my body was pressed against his all night, and reinforced by his fitted black shirt, which was hugging every inch of him in the best way.

He was the spitting image of his father.

"Do you know Justin?" he asked, peering back to the bar where his friend was still sitting.

It was hard not to laugh. I bit my lip to stop myself. "I don't know. Do I?"

This was still too fun. Watching his confusion only made me want to draw this out longer. He shook it off. It was nearly two in the morning, and we had quite the drive ahead of us. Not to mention a walk to wherever his vehicle was currently parked. Hopefully, it wasn't far, because my feet were killing me, and there was no way I was walking barefoot. We had barely made it to the curb when a Jeep Wrangler stopped ahead of us, and the valet tossed Luke the keys.

"This is yours?" I eyed the vehicle warily. It lacked doors.

"I hope so. Otherwise, the owner is going to be pissed that the valet just gave us the keys."

Flashy, cherry red, and brand-frickin' new—it didn't quite meet the Hamptons aesthetic, but at least my feet were done being murdered for the night. Luke offered his hand. I took it, using it as the boost needed to get up and into the vehicle without showing everyone what was under my dress.

"So, how about that name?" he asked, pulling at the seat belt and offering it to me. I shook my head no as he cutely protested with a groan. "Okay. Well, then, your place or mine?"

Would now be a good time to tell him that my place is currently his place? Nah.

I didn't necessarily know if he was staying with his father. I was assuming. Either way, he was taking me there. The Wrangler entered traffic, which had died down considerably since Rachel and I had arrived at Blue. My hair began blowing wildly in my face.

"Yours."

"You got it, pretty girl."

I dropped my head back against the seat, gazing up at a star-filled sky. It was the second time tonight he'd used it as a term of endearment—a fond memory that he was cheapening.

"Bet you call all the girls that."

His hand gripped the wheel tighter, and he shook his head. "Not as many as you'd think. One comes to mind."

Yeah. One came to mind for me too—the girl he didn't remember. Puberty was rough for me. The last time he saw me, I was fifteen, chunky, flat chested, with braces, and acne across my nose that I failed to hide with foundation. I wasn't wretched by any means. I also didn't stand out. Luke made me feel like I did. Now he didn't even know me. Must have been nice to repress the memory of our last encounter, because I couldn't forget it if I tried.

The last time I'd seen Luke was the day his mom left. My mom and I made a special trip to the Hamptons to make sure Luke and his dad were okay. The door was slammed in my face as he told me to fuck off and go home. While most people might have been able to shrug off this interaction, I was a fifteen-year-old girl hopelessly in love with Lucas Drake. Those were harsh words coming from the boy who was my world. When I say he broke my heart, it actually shattered that day, because he was also my best friend. My mom stayed up with me the whole night after a hellish car ride home while I sobbed my eyes out. She comforted me, explained that Luke was a Drake male—and with that name came expectations and a reputation. He wasn't worth crying over and I should let him go. Luke made that decision an easy one. He never spoke to me again, and that was fine. Because a few months later, my mom was gone, and I was busy trying to figure out a world without her in it.

I waited years to share a first kiss with Luke. Tonight, I had it. My mother was probably spinning in her grave.

"So, what do I need to do to get your name?"

My shoulders shook with laughter. This little game really was amusing.

"Okay, fine. Tell me something about yourself. Are you from here?"

"Was I born here? No. Do I currently live here? Also, no."

"So, you have a summer home here? You know Rachel, and she doesn't leave the comfort of the Hamptons often."

He was right about Rachel, but . . . "Nope."

"Then how do you know Rachel?"

I couldn't answer that yet. I couldn't say I'm an old friend, or how we met, because Luke was the one who introduced us. Same with Justin. I decided to direct the questions back to him, starting with the one that had been on my mind since we hit the dance floor of Blue. Luke had moves.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?"

His smile widened. "I taught myself. I'm saving to open a dance studio."

A studio? What about pharmacy school? What about Drake-Mason?

The more I thought about it, the more genius the lie became. Get girls home by flashing your money, sleep with them, then tell them you want to own a studio so they see those dollar signs go up in smoke and they won't hang around. Impressive.

"What about you? What do you do?"

My head shook no again. Pharmacy school would be a dead giveaway. We still had a good hour left on this journey, and I was going to milk this as long as possible.

Tell him, Lacey.

"You're a hard girl to crack—you know that? You're stubborn."

"I've been told that."

Our drive remained playful and filled with unanswered questions. We pulled into William Drake's drive in the early hours of the morning. We drove past my father's car, and Luke still didn't piece together that I was home for the weekend with my dad. He parked and told me to wait for his help to get out. I appreciated it. Falling on my face before telling him would have been embarrassing.

I took his offered hand and slid my way from the seat until my heels hit the ground, reminding me how sore my feet were. I giggled and groaned with the pain while Luke's hand rested on my hip. When I looked up to thank him, I was greeted by his warm, soft lips against mine.

This was why I should have told him earlier. Now I was dizzy and caught up in one of his amazing kisses all over again. I definitely shouldn't have been the one to deepen it, but I did. I leaned into him until his muscular arms were wrapped around me. He lifted me up, giving relief to my feet but adding to the grief of my starved lady parts that now pressed against his pants. I was too invested in what was happening with our tongues to even realize where I was being carried. I was a bag of mixed emotions—telling myself to tell him the truth, craving more of his taste, and not wanting the fireworks from this kiss to end. It didn't until my back was pressed up against an exterior wall, where Luke needed the extra leverage to keep me off the ground while searching for his keys. My eyes opened to discover that I was now against the pool house—a place we used to play in all the time as children.

"Luke . . . I . . ." I was struggling to find words. He was keeping me against the wall with his knee between my legs, and I was becoming a hot mess each time he lifted it to keep me up. His unforgiving mouth was all over my neck and chest, kissing and nibbling on any exposed skin his mouth could access. "I have to . . .
to tell you something."

There was a jingle of keys and the sound of the door swinging open. My back left the wall, and I was once again only supported by his arms. My legs tightened around him, and with the move came the realization of just how hard he was. I was running out of time to tell him, and at the same time, I had never been so hungry for sex in my life. I impulsively rocked my hips against his, dropped my head back, and cried out with a moan I didn't know I was capable of.

He moved us through the house until we were in a bedroom. It was dark, but there was some light coming in through the window facing the pool outside. He tossed me onto the bed, where I bounced before becoming a breathy mess sprawled out across the duvet. I leaned up on my elbows to see him unbuckle his belt and pull it free. It was tossed to the floor before he started unbuttoning his pants. My pussy was throbbing with anticipation, partially muting out the voice in my head, which was screaming how bad an idea this was.

I need to tell him.

"Luke . . ."

He shed his pants and shirt, leaving me to admire the changes in his physique since he hit puberty. He was all muscles that bulged and flexed with the smallest of moves, like when he ran his fingers through his hair and smiled. Christ, he was fucking gorgeous. Guys actually could look like they stepped right out of the Calvin Klein ad? Because then there was his underwear and it left nothing to my imagination. Luke was huge—his whole body was a theme park, and his cock was a promise for a good time. My lady parts were now eagerly waiting in line for a ride.

The bed dipped as he crawled his way between my legs until he returned to my lips. My upper thigh was firmly gripped and squeezed while his hardened cock teased against my lace barrier. We both felt the heat escaping me. I couldn't lie about not wanting him if I tried.

"What do you need to tell me?" he asked.

This was it. I needed to tell him, and it had to be now. Yet, my shaking head was disobeying me, and so were my eager hips, which were trying to keep against him for any sort of pressure against my aching clit.

"Nothing," I whispered.

I was being so stupid. This had gone from making Luke look like a fool for a few hours to making me into one. I set out tonight to get laid. Not to fuck my future business partner. But God, he felt so good everywhere. His firm body, the soft lips, and his hands that were now all over me—this was too good to stop. I hadn't been touched like this since . . . well . . . ever? It had been a year since I'd had sex, but I couldn't recall the foreplay ever getting me this worked up. And we had barely started.

His hands continued wandering, squeezing my breasts before nibbling at them through the fabric covering them. I whimpered, wanting more. While his mouth was busy there, he'd finally made his way to the hem of my dress, and we both agreed it was in the way of tonight's intentions. I sat up just enough for him to pull it off. It fell to the floor, and his lips were back around my exposed nipple, causing me to cry out and writhe beneath him.

"I'm dying to taste you," he said, just as two fingers slid beneath the only fabric left on my body. He parted me and slowly traced my slit with one finger before circling my clit with the other. "Mm, soaked."

And him talking dirty was only going to make it worse. He teased my entrance until I was practically begging for more. Yeah, the lace underwear needed to go. And now. Luke tugged them off in a flash and tossed them. I wasn't even sure where they landed when they were off, and, at the moment, I didn't care. Apparently, I wasn't the only one eager to get them out of the way. Luke knelt between my legs abruptly, grabbing my knees, parting them, and pushing them to my chest.

"Hold these," he demanded.

Done.

I did as I was told, hooking my arms around each thigh and pulling them closer to me. Luke cradled the cheeks of my ass in his palms, using them to lift me to his awaiting mouth. The connection caused me to cry out. My folds were lapped excruciatingly slowly by his warm tongue. Then again. On the third round, he stopped at my clit, paying very special attention to it. Keeping his tongue pressed firmly against it, he began endless circles that had my knees shaking in my grasp. In the lightless room, there was nowhere to look but at him, and he watched me watching him. The focus was so intense, I could have sworn I could feel the start of an orgasm in the distance.

That was impossible—but then it wasn't.

"Fuck!" I cried out.

My knees dropped and my feet hit the mattress. The orgasm tore through me like a raging fire through a forest, with no part of me left untouched by its blaze. This heat was unlike anything I had ever experienced—leaving me seeing stars as I rode Luke's face. He squeezed my ass, keeping me attached to his tongue as I writhed against him. He was relentless, and I was grasping for anything to steady me—the sheets, his hair, my own breasts. My soul was fighting to escape my body. As the heat faded, I was left feeling practically melted.

"Jesus," Luke panted for air, "you have the most beautiful orgasms."

How did that just happen?

I sat up again, wrapping my hand around his neck and forcing his mouth to mine. His arousal-soaked tongue swirled with mine as I took his cock out from his briefs. It was so ready for me—rock hard and pulsing against my palm. He hissed into my mouth as I stroked him. Using my thumb, I circled his crown as a tease, loving the way he eagerly twitched from it.

"What do you want to do with it?" he asked, cupping my jaw. "Show me."

My pussy clenched with need. But it was going to have to wait. I sat up farther, and Luke backed up until he was standing. After a few more strokes of my hand, I wrapped my lips around him, swirling my tongue around his tip. Luke inhaled a sharp breath. And when I began moving him in and out of my mouth, he raised his gaze to the ceiling and moaned from deep within his chest. The sight was working me up all over again.

"I need your name," he said. "Christ, give me something here."

I smiled around him. I was taught never to speak with my mouth full. Luke hissed and released small curses until he couldn't take the sucking anymore and popped himself free from my mouth. I would have sucked him until he came, but I knew the eagerness for more was mutual. He pecked my lips and whispered he would be right back before disappearing. The room was now aglow in a pink light that told me it was sunrise. There was panic in my gut, knowing I was supposed to be at breakfast with my dad in a few hours. But the way Luke eyed me upon his return made my stomach twirl and my lungs leap. There were condoms in his hand. One stayed, and the rest were tossed onto the mattress beside me.

I didn't know where to look as he rolled it on. I could have stopped it right now before we truly passed the point of no return, but then he was above me again with his tongue in my mouth and, God! Why did he have to be so good at this? We were a mess, trying to maintain the kiss and get closer at the same time. With my fingertips digging into his back, Luke wrapped one of my legs around him and entered me with one swing of his hips.

I gasped. I moaned. I clung to him for dear life as he drove himself into me repeatedly. His thrusts were powerful, timed to perfection and maintaining a rhythm that had me on the verge of a second orgasm.

"Come for me." He practically growled it into my ear.

My anxiety wanted to fight him on it, but he upped his speed and drove me right over the edge. The second one was even better than the first, and with it I screamed his name. The intensity had me struggling to keep my eyes open. Him being inside me made it so much better.

When my eyes did open, Luke was now cast in a golden glow from the window. He noticed it too—the sunrise threatening our time. "I have a meeting to be at soon," he said, blissfully unaware I'd be attending the same one. "But I'm not stopping until I watch you come again. Then, I'm getting that name."

"You can try," I giggled. "I think I'm out of orgasms. The name isn't happening."

His dirty smirk and thrust made my head fall back with a closed-eyed moan. "We'll see."

I wasn't sure which one he thought he was going to get from me, but he would not give me time to figure it out. He was going again and not holding back. And I was now so loud I was sure I could be heard from outside the pool house.

"Put your arms around my neck and do not let go."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I wrapped myself around him, and he lifted me from the bed. Locked in another of his fireworks-inducing kisses, he used his forearms to lift and drop me onto his cock repeatedly. I couldn't get enough of it—it was the muscle for me. He came through on the promise of the third orgasm, cracking me in minutes.

"I'm going to come," he said with a groan into my neck.

"On me," I said. The thought was driving me wild.

"Yes. Fuck," he hissed.

I was tossed back onto the mattress. The condom was torn off and thrown to a nearby dresser. His arm bulged as he gripped his cock and pumped himself, once, twice, and on the third time, released. His hot cum shot up my open thighs and belly, coating me deliciously.

I fought to catch my breath. The air had suddenly left the room. I just allowed Lucas Drake to practically split me in two. Shit.

After using his sheets to clean as much of myself as I could, I sat up and reached over the side of the bed to get my dress. My underwear was nowhere in sight, and I was willing to lose them forever to escape this room. My phone lit up as I grabbed it, showing me that it was just after six. I had two hours to get into the house and be ready for this breakfast. I definitely needed a shower.

"You don't have to run off, you know?" he said, still standing completely naked beside the bed. "I'm dreading this meeting. I could skip it."

I tried to avoid his stare. "I, uh,"—my head shook no—"am supposed to meet up with someone this morning."

"Boyfriend?"

That was laughable. And I did. "No. Not in the slightest."

I stood, locating my shoes and finding them remarkably more comfortable than they were a few hours ago. My wallet was still beside them. I gave up on the underwear and headed out of the room and toward the door leading out to the pool.

"Wait!" Luke called out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fumbling as he tried to hurry after me and put on his boxer briefs at the same time. His knee collided with a small table beside the couch. He cussed and clutched the spot he hit. "Wait! Wait! Jesus! Hold up a minute!"

I kept moving until his hand was around my wrist. He twirled me just as he'd done the night before, to get me to face him. My head fell to his chest, where I inhaled his spicy cologne. I took a deep breath, knowing I should tell him right now. I reminded myself just how bad it felt the last time I walked away from him—when he told me to fuck off, get out, and then never spoke to me again.

"Please tell me your name. How am I supposed to find you? I need to see you again."

I laughed playfully. "I'm sure you will."

I attempted to pull away, but it was no use. He pulled me in for another drawn-out kiss. I eased into him, hating myself for it. "Please," he whispered against my lips. "Don't make me play the fate game. I will turn over every part of this town to find you. Starting with Rachel Meyer."

He wouldn't have to go that far. In a couple of hours, he would be reminded of the girl whose heart he broke seven years ago. Tonight had been fun, but it changed nothing. We weren't friends.

"I don't believe in fate," I said, wiggling my wrist until he released it.

"What do you believe in?"

"Karma." The word rolled off the tongue before I could stop it. This wasn't revenge on Luke. We had both enjoyed the night, but part of me wanted the word to sting a little. He just looked more confused. I swung the door open, the space between my legs still throbbing, and walked out to a chilly spring morning.

"Please tell me your name?" he called out.

Without looking back, I swung my wallet over my shoulder with a smile. "Maybe I'll tell you tomorrow, FB!"