Hunting Truth (12 page)

Angel nodded, her expression
conveying how gravely she took
the matter. I saw Lucas’ jaw muscle tense and release and knew he
was fighting back laughter too. Then she announced, “I give my
permission for you to cohabit with my best friend on those
terms.”

I heard Chad snort softly and try to cover
it with a cough.
That
did it. I burst out laughing, with Chad and Lucas joining in
immediately. Angel looked confused and then affronted, which only
made us laugh more. I was relieved that she’d taken the news well
and felt a rush of affection for her loyalty towards me. The
thought of a fragile-looking Angel kicking Lucas’ butt made me
chuckle randomly during the rest of the evening.

*

The remainder of the week was
hectic.
I was working
flat out on the designs for the second apartment and Lucas was
preoccupied with something that had come up at one of his
properties. He wouldn’t say exactly what it was, but I knew it was
serious because of the way that he was quiet and distracted and
also the fact that he and Carter were in almost constant
communication.

I suggested cancelling our trip to
Seattle
the following
weekend to watch the band but Lucas wouldn’t hear of it.

Before I knew it, it was
late Friday afternoon. Angel
and the boys were taking an early evening flight to Seattle with
strict instructions from Lucas for an early night. Their flight
home wasn’t until Sunday so he’d given them permission for all
kinds of debauchery on the Saturday after their festival
appearance. Lucas was still tied up with Carter on whatever crisis
had beset the company. He was tight-lipped about it and tried to
make light about it whenever I tried to prize information from him.
Therefore it was still unclear what time we would take off in the
private jet.

I packed my things and wondered whether I
should pack Lucas
’ too.
I didn’t want to call him in case he was in a meeting. He hadn’t
been in his office all afternoon and I wasn’t sure where he was. I
took the elevator back down to his office. He still wasn’t there. I
decided to check his schedule with Daniel. I walked across his
office and put my hand on the door handle. I turned it and began to
open the door but I stopped when I heard voices.

“
That’s why he should never have sent you
here. Two minutes earlier and it would’ve been disastrous,” a voice
hissed quietly.

“
Do you want to tell
him
that?” hissed another. “Look just get me in there
and let me install it. We’ll get caught if we stand here much
longer.”

“
Come on, it’s just in . . .” I jumped as
the door was pushed open, rebounding off me. I stepped back
instinctively as Lucas’ handsome receptionist almost walked
straight into me. Right behind him was another man that I didn’t
recognize.

“
Oh
, sorry, Miss Prince, I didn’t know you were in here. We’ll
come back. It’s not a problem,” he said.

Before I could reply, he turned and
steered the other man over to the elevator. It all seemed a bit
odd. I took a couple of steps into the lobby on my way to Daniel’s
office, but my cell rang. It was Lucas in a bit of a state. I had
to ask him to slow down so I could fully understand him. He said he
was in the middle of something urgent but didn’t elaborate. He
didn’t want me to worry because he still didn’t know when he’d be
finished, but he assured me that we’d fly out on the jet as soon as
he was able. I asked him about packing his case and got a quick
list of things that he planned to take so I could have it
ready.

When I finished the call, the lobby was
empty.
There was no sign
of either of the two men. I wondered whether I should have
mentioned it to Lucas. It had slipped my mind when I heard him in
such obvious distress. I figured that it was probably nothing and
that he had enough on his plate. I turned and went back up to the
apartment to pack Lucas’ case then get showered and changed for our
flight. I was so excited. I’d never been on a private jet before. I
just hoped that Lucas would hurry up so we wouldn’t have to cancel
the trip.

Lucas eventually came tearing into the
apartment looking like hell.
I’d never seen him looking so rough. He batted aside all of
my questions and concerns and insisted that we needed to get to the
airport as quickly as we could. He didn’t even want to take a
shower. Within minutes we were in the Lexus being driven by Carter,
who looked equally grim. I knew better than to persist with my
questions. I just hoped that Lucas would lighten up when we got to
Seattle.

T
ravelling by private jet was a revelation. From the moment
Carter pulled up right next to the airplane, I knew I was going to
love it. The flight crew met us as we boarded and even the pilot
came and introduced himself. The interior was just as luxurious as
I’d expected: cream leather upholstered seating, cream carpeting
and deep-red finishing touches. Lucas needed to take a call the
moment we got inside.

*

Our flight attendan
t showed me the spacious bedroom and
bathroom that were just as decadent, and insisted that I call her
if I wanted anything to eat or drink during the flight. She showed
me how to alter the lighting and how to operate the inflight
entertainment. I was content to curl up in one of the leather seats
and enjoy the experience. I just wished that Lucas could
too.

He ended
his call just as we were about to take off, but he
looked worse than ever. Everything about him gave away how tired
and stressed he was. His skin looked dull, his eyes hooded, his jaw
tense and his tone was clipped. He caught me studying him and
smiled faintly. I was again tempted to ask him to let me in, to
share what was on his mind but I didn’t want to risk making him
pissed with me too. He knew that I was worried about him though
because, from that moment on, he made a distinct effort to lighten
up and chat. I appreciated his efforts but it was obviously
forced.

Once we were informed that it was safe for
us to leave our seats, Lucas had a whispered
convers
ation with the
flight attendant on the opposite side of the cabin. He then said he
was going to take a shower and change into some casual clothes. A
few moments later, the flight attendant returned carrying a tray
that looked to be piled high but was covered so I couldn’t see what
it held. She said that Lucas had asked her to tell me to await him,
naked on the bed in the bedroom. I blushed furiously but she seemed
totally nonplussed.

I followed her into the bedroom and she
placed the tray on the bedside cabinet.
She turned, smiled brightly, and then left. I was
tempted to barge into the bathroom and give Lucas a mouthful for
embarrassing me but I decided to play along. Anything to help lift
him from his grave mood. And, let’s face it, waiting in bed, naked,
for Lucas Hunter was no hardship!

I undressed quickly and lay on the top of
the bedclothes.
I
rearranged my pose several times, trying to look seductive and
sexy. I wondered whether I should have my legs wide open and be
playing with myself when he walked through the door—that would
surprise him as much as he’d surprised me. I decided against it and
was considering sneaking a peak at what was on the tray when the
door opened and Lucas sauntered into the room. Totally naked, hair
still damp. Utterly confident, he stood at the foot of the bed and
assumed his dominant persona.

That was enough to make me wet but the
heat of his gaze as he slowly swept it across every inch of my
displayed flesh made me want to squirm.
This was a man who wanted me. This was a man who
promised to take my body and mind to the heights of pleasure that
other people only dream about. And there was no doubt that he would
deliver, sating my deepest, darkest desires. I shivered in
anticipation as he stalked around the bed, his eyes never leaving
my body.

He bent down to the tray.
From my reclined position on
the bed I couldn’t see it. He stood with a bottle of champagne in
his hands, then stepped next to the bed and expertly popped the
cork. He held out his arm so that the fizzy liquid spilled over
onto my stomach and I shrieked—partly in shock at the coldness
splashing onto my skin, partly in excitement.

Lucas merely lifted the bottle
to his lips and took a sip.
Then he leaned forward and passed the delicious liquid into my
mouth without spilling a drop. Bubbles fizzed on my tongue and down
my throat. Lucas tilted the bottle again so that champagne splashed
over my breasts. Then he poured it in a line from the hollow
between my breasts to my mound. I felt the coldness dribbling down
my slit and it made me tremble. He gave a lascivious grin, set the
bottle down and swooped his head to lick and suck every drop of
champagne from my body. It was heaven—except for when he lifted his
head from between my thighs . . . I wanted him to stay there—for a
very long time!

He bent down to the tray again and
reappeared with a bowl of strawberries.
Apparently, you can’t have one without the other
and he didn’t care if it was clichéd—he wanted to try it. He placed
a strawberry between his teeth and lowered his head for me to bite
it. He teasingly traced my lips with it, but each time I tried to
bite it he lifted his chin. I reached out to hold his head
instinctively, but immediately my hands were pinned above my head.
A growled warning about being restrained followed, which spoke more
to my sex than my ears, but I knew that if he’d wanted to restrain
me, he would’ve done it already so I resisted the temptation to
move when he released me.

Eventually, he allowed me to gently nip it
with my teeth. Juice ran down my chin and onto my neck. He quickly
swallowed his half of the strawberry and licked the trail of juice.
Then he proffered a strawberry for me to bite in half. I obliged
and gasped when the remaining half was inserted between my labia.
This process was repeated until there was a line of strawberry
halves along my sex.

Lucas stood back and admired his
handiwork.
Nodding, he
picked up the bottle of champagne, sipped from it, then passed it
in one long trickle into my mouth. He kissed me then. Softly and
lovingly at first, taking his time. His hand worked its way into my
hair at the nape of my neck and held it. Not painfully, but with
enough tension for me to know that he could control the movement of
my head if he chose to. It was a gesture that turned me on so
much.

The kiss deepened
suddenly into a passionate, all consuming,
devouring hunger: A single moment, but the most incredibly erotic
signal that ignited desires and inflamed passions. I had to fight
the urge to clench my sex so as not to disturb Lucas’ strawberry
art installation. Our mouths meshed and moved, tongues teased and
traced, and our breaths became urgent pants. I moaned into his
mouth at the intensity of my desire. My want. My need. Lucas’
response was to tighten his grip on my hair slightly. A thrill shot
through me from my head to my toes then back to my sex.

He left me panting and wanting as picked
up the champagne again.
He poured some over his row of strawberry halves and set
about eating them. I could only imagine what it looked like. I
wished there was a mirror on the ceiling. He nibbled the fruit and
he nibbled me. Licking, lapping, nibbling and sucking until I could
stand it no more. My hips bucked as my body gave way to the climax
that sought its impassioned release. I cried out his name and a
string of curses as the fevered shuddering of my body refused to
subside. Lucas’ fingers dug into my hips as he sought to keep his
mouth over me, drinking in the evidence of my orgasm.

Eventually h
e knelt up, his face glistening and his black eyes
shining. “Miss Prince, I cordially invite you to join the Mile High
Club,” he said, his voice deep and throaty.

I smiled and replied in my sultriest tone.
“How could I possibly refuse such a prestigious invitation, Mr.
Hunter?”

Suddenly I gave into impulse and shot off
the bed.
I grabbed the
champagne and advanced on the kneeling god before me. I poured a
little champagne over his erect cock then licked and sucked it off.
Then I positioned my mouth underneath his cock and poured some
more. It splashed and ran off his cock into my mouth and all over
my face. I caught as much as I could, then licked his throbbing
erection and his balls.

My breath caught in my throat when his
hand grasped
the hair at
the back of my neck again. He pulled me up to my knees and looked
me in the eye questioningly, one eyebrow arched. I wondered whether
I was going to get punished for my audacity—I sincerely hoped so!
Respectfully, I lowered my gaze and assumed the submissive pose
that I’d seen women form when I visited Odyssey with Scott. I heard
his sharp intake of breath and cringed internally for a moment in
case he asked me where I’d learned it.

I needn
’t have worried. He instigated the biggest, filthiest romp
I’d ever known. Not content with joining the Mile High Club with
one sexual position, he kept changing so that we must have
practically got through the entire Karma Sutra before he was sated.
Hot and sticky, we collapsed in a heap. No words were needed. We
just lay there in each other’s arms floating in post-orgasmic
bliss.