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Her Perfect Gift (50 Loving States #5) Page 4
Author: Theodora Taylor

And then one hand was back around her nape while the other parted her folds so he could ease his cock into her. He let his forehead rest against hers as he moved inside her.

It felt—Lacey didn’t have words for how it felt to have him inside the cradle of her legs, filling her up, so she could feel him all the way up to her womb.

His strokes were gentle at first, then faster and rougher, as if the chains were coming off whatever kept the beast inside of him tamed and still. To her surprise, her quiet lover began to speak, whispering what she thought were Japanese words in her ear with such intensity she didn’t have to comprehend them to know he felt it, too—the hot conclusion building up inside both of them, so big it scared Lacey, because surely once it came, it would tear her apart.

But then he kissed her, all but devouring her lips underneath his, and soon she was exploding, bright and hot like a star at the end of its life. It was all she could do to hold on to her sanity, much less her body, which was now glowing with previously unknown sensations.

And then there was her unexpected lover, still kissing her, until suddenly he broke off with a deep yell. He pressed his forehead into hers and shuddered into her, his cock throbbing hard.

Then he drew back slightly and they stared at each other in wonderment, now sweating and breathing hard.

“Stay,” he said.

“Okay,” she answered.

SURO WOKE UP to the brightness of the morning sun shining down on him. This was strange in and of itself, since he usually woke naturally at the dimly lit hour of five to do his morning exercises. But then he remembered the night before with an inward smile.

The woman from the bar. It hadn’t been enough to take her by the door. They’d come together a second time in his bed. That should have been it, but Suro clearly remembered waking again in the middle of the night and going down on her until she woke, too, ready for more.

Sex with her hadn’t been like sex with any other woman he’d let into his bed in recent years. He found her warmth and softness intoxicating, craved it like a hot bowl of udon on a rainy day.

The only reason he didn’t turn over right that minute and have her again was because he had run out of condoms and the clock read 9:15, which meant he needed to leave soon for the one event he’d come to Montana to attend.

Still, he knew he wasn’t done with this woman, not yet, not by a long shot.

Sitting up in the large, king-sized bed, he quickly devised a plan. He’d let her sleep but would leave a note telling her to enjoy the place while he was gone and to call him when she woke, so they could make plans to see each other again. But he was cut short when he reached out to grab a hotel memo pad and found a note already written on it.

“Thank you for last night.”

And that was it. No name, no phone number, no promises to be back in touch, nothing except for five words scrawled hastily across white paper. He turned around to see what had so obviously escaped his notice just a few minutes ago: a rumpled but empty spot where the woman had slept. There was only the slightest dent to mark the fact that someone else had shared his bed. Suro stared at the abandoned sheets, unsettled.

He’d approached her last night with the intention of picking her up and getting rid of her as soon as he was done with her. He was merely curious, he had told himself as he walked over to where she was seated, and she was a welcome distraction after a very busy spring, filled with the kind of work that required a deliberate hardening of the soul. But now it was morning, and she was gone.

So why then did he feel like the one who had been used and tossed aside?

CHAPTER 3

“HI, my name is Hector.”

The boy who fell into step beside her as she walked out of her Financial Econometrics class was clean-cut, tall, handsome, and almost as dark as she was. If she hadn’t already known of him, she might have mistaken him for one of the few other black students taking the course with her. But as it was…

“I know who you are,” she said, throwing him a teasing smile. “Everyone does.”

He glanced sideways at her. “And who do you think I am?”

She had to fight hard not to laugh. “Hector Mendez, Jr.” She didn’t add the obvious, that he was the only son of Hector Mendez, Sr., the head of New Jersey’s Dominican mafia. “I don’t live under a rock.”

But if he minded her laughing at him, he didn’t show it. Instead he smiled back at her. “You say it like that’s all I am, my father’s son.”

“No insult meant or anything,” she said. “Back in West Trenton, just about everybody knows me as Antoine Cofi’s daughter. You see, he owns this Cajun food restaurant, kind of a hole in the wall, but it’s pretty popular. So that’s mostly what people see when they look at me. I think they were surprised when I got into Rutgers, like I’d been born to work behind Cofi’s counter all my life.”

Hector nodded. “People expect me to follow in my father’s footsteps, too. That’s part of the reason I came to Rutgers. My father didn’t even graduate high school. I’m hoping to do better for myself.”

“Mine didn’t either,” she said. “But he’s still the smartest person I know, even if he didn’t get a degree.”

“I see you’re a daddy’s girl.”

“I am,” she admitted. “My mom died when I was little, so it’s always been the two of us. He worked hard to raise me right and make sure I didn’t have to work at the restaurant if I didn’t want to. It’s hard not to admire him for that.”

“He sounds like a great man. I’d like to meet him some day.” Hector flashed her a smile and held out his hand. “You know my name. But you still haven’t told me yours.”

She smiled back at him. “Tasha Cofi. It’s nice to meet you.”

And being the friendly girl she was, she took his proffered hand, having no idea she was shaking hands with the devil.

The sound of a horn blaring behind her jerked Lacey out of the memory. She looked up and saw that the light had turned green. She made a left onto the road leading to the Starry Sky campgrounds, and chastised herself. “Get it together, girl.”

She’d barely had time to make it back to the hotel to shower and change clothes before it was time to get on the road. And even then she was only just going to make it to the outdoor picnic brunch that would kick off Parent’s Day. She didn’t have time to let her mind wander, especially back to a life she could never have again.

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Theodora Taylor's Novels
» Her Russian Surrender (50 Loving States #10)
» His One and Only (50 Loving States #6)
» Her Perfect Gift (50 Loving States #5)
» Her Viking Wolf (50 Loving States #3)
» Her Russian Billionaire (50 Loving States #2)
» The Owner of His Heart (50 Loving States #1)