Ruin

9

**LUCAS P. O. V**
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Sunday: 8:15 pm
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"I have a boyfriend!"

I didn't ask.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" I ask, challenging her.

She pauses for a moment, as if to catch her breath. "Telling..."

She doesn't seem convinced.

"Then tell me why you're here in another man's arms," I say. It comes out lower than intended. "What would that little boyfriend of yours think if he knew?"

Her chest heaves and I'm brought to look at her breasts. Small and perky.

She isn't wearing a brassiere, it's evident by the way her nipples harden against the fabric.

She blushes.

Cute.

Fuck cute.

I bring my right leg up and press my knee between her parted thighs. It feels so warm against the little skin that peeks through at the rip in my jeans.

She slumps against my body, and I love the feel of her skin against mine.

So fucking smooth.

I feel for the fabric, but there's not much. She's either not wearing any draws, or it's a g-string.

Easy access...either way.

My growing erection stretches against the base of my jeans.

Fuck!

I shift my knee slightly and press down a little. She moans softly and it's like music to my ear.

She's wet.

Already? Do I have that much of an effect on her?

"I need to go," she whispers and it sounds almost like a sigh. Her breath fans my lips. "Please?"

She must've sensed it too.

"Then go..." I tell her, not wanting to be that guy who tries to hold her against her will.

She doesn't move.

Her eyes search mine.

Say something...

"Lucas..." she starts but seems to lose her train of thought.

She knows my name. How the hell does she know my name?

It dawns on me...must be that day I showed up at her work place. The card I'd handed her; she must've taken notice.

I almost forgot about that. Probably because I still haven't been contacted by any frigging sales rep. But why am I not surprised...Jamaica's customer service is always shitty.

The way she says my name though sends me over the edge.

She then bites her bottom lip and my hood stirs.

I want to. I really really want to.

I bring one hand down and grip the small of her waist, pulling her even closer to me. "You want me to kiss you, don't you?" I say, teasingly.

She doesn't answer, but her silence echoes loud and clear.

"The problem is," I say as I lean in, "if I kiss you now, I don't think I'll be able to control myself."

I smirk at the gasp which escapes her lips.

Man those lips.

So plump. So pink. So...bomboclaat kissable.