Authors: J. S. Scott
But, he probably won’t.
He had either lost interest or given up. It had been a few months since he had done anything more than politely chat with her on superficial subjects. She was betting on the former. There were few women who would turn him down. He probably didn't need to expend any effort getting women in his bed.
I honestly don’t understand why he even tried in the first place. What would he want with a mousy little librarian?
It wasn't that she didn't want to go out with him. He loved books and literature almost as much as she did and from what she had gathered as they had chatted, they shared a lot of common interests and opinions.
The honest truth was....she knew Lucas Duncan was one big heartache waiting to happen. How long would a simple librarian who would rather read a book than go to a party interest a man like him?
He’d dump me so fast my head would be spinning if he realized how incredibly boring I am.
There was certainly nothing flashy about her long, brown hair and hazel eyes, which didn’t really show to advantage since she needed her glasses for decent vision. What did she have that would appeal to a man of Lucas Duncan’s caliber?
Tory wasn't sure she wouldn't fall hard for him. She already liked him and she couldn’t stand within five feet of him and not have damp panties. She just didn’t want to get her heart broken…again.
She had gotten dumped a year ago because she was, according to her ex, "too boring" and "too conservative." Not good…considering that her ex-boyfriend was an accountant.
"Come on, Tory. Do it. You want to get home to your bubble bath and that new novel," she whispered as she picked up the phone and quickly dialed his cell phone number before she lost her nerve.
"Duncan." He answered on the second ring, his deep voice startling her.
"Mr. Duncan? This is Victoria Price. The librarian," she tried to maintain her brisk, professional tone.
"Tory?" he answered, sounding perplexed. "How can I help you?"
"I think I might be able to help you, Mr. Duncan. You left your wallet in the library."
"Damn. Okay. I'm going to need that right away. Drop it by house will you? The address is on my Driver's License."
Dial tone!
Tory held the phone for another moment, listening to the steady buzz on the other end of line.
He had just given her instructions and hung up, treating her like she was his personal assistant. Unbelievable! She instinctively reached to redial the number to tell him exactly what she thought of that, but replaced the receiver in the cradle with a sigh. He
was
the biggest donor to the library and she couldn't really tell him she wouldn't do it…even though she desperately wanted to.
She quickly got a map to his house from the address on his license, grabbed her purse, locked up the library and proceeded reluctantly to his home.
He was fairly close to the library and really not much out of the way from her home, but it still rankled that he had given her orders and hung up. Strange, she had never known him to be that rude.
She couldn't help but admire the nicely manicured home as she pulled up to his house. It wasn't exactly flashy or ornate...it was just...nice. Not really what she had expected from a handsome, young millionaire.
She grabbed his wallet from the seat of her car and locked the door. She straightened her already perfect turtle neck sweater and skirt as she click-clacked up his driveway in her comfortable heels, determined to get this over with quickly and professionally.
She didn't have to ring the doorbell. Lucas opened the door as she hit the last step.
"Here you go, Mr. Duncan. Have a nice evening," she told him in a rushed, breathless voice as she shoved the wallet into his hand and moved to turn back to her car.
"Tory? Where's the rest of my money," he shot at her as she pranced down the steps as fast as her sensible shoes would take her.
She stopped and looked back at him, momentarily confused. "What money?"
"I had more money in my wallet than this. Would you mind telling me what happened to it?," he replied in a neutral tone. "Maybe you should come in."
Tory reluctantly climbed the steps and entered the door that he held wide for her to enter. His expression was different, more unreadable. He was usually so friendly and amiable. Tonight he looked…dangerous.
Oh well, we all have bad days.
She brushed it off as she moved through the open door.
He closed the door and motioned for her to enter the living room off to the left. She entered and turned to face him. "I don't understand, Mr. Duncan." She crossed her arms in front of her and looked up at him.
"There's money missing from my wallet. Ernie and I were the last ones to leave tonight. You were the only one who had access to it," he told her casually, his face impassive.
"What? Are you insinuating that I stole money from you." Tory tried to maintain her calm, but his accusation riled her. No one had ever accused her of being a thief.
"I hate to say this, Tory, but it doesn't look good for you. Money is missing with you being the logical suspect. I have a lot of pull at the library. Something like this gets to your superiors from me…you never know what will happen." His voice was calm and controlled.
Oh…Tory knew exactly what would happen. Her superiors would jump through fire just to please him no matter what he requested or why. He donated a great deal of money to keep the library running. "Mr. Duncan, you must know I didn't do this."
He shrugged. "I don't know anything. I just know money is missing."
"Don't do this, Mr. Duncan. I can't lose my job." Anxiety overcame her anger. If he got her fired, her whole life would be destroyed. She would have to move to get another job.....if she could even get another job after being fired for theft.
"You can return my money," he suggested.
"I didn't take your money. I swear. Please believe me," she was begging now, trying to get him to see the truth. "I can't get fired for this, Mr. Duncan. Please."
"Maybe we can make a deal, Tory. I don’t really care about the money. You do something for me and I will forget all about this....incident." His tone was mild, but his eyes were expressive, heated.
Tory let out her breath in a relieved sigh. "Thank you, Mr. Duncan. Thank you. I'll do whatever you want."
"Good.” He paused before adding, “Undress for me, Victoria," his tone became low and husky.
"Pardon me, Mr. Duncan. What did you say?," she replied, certain she had misunderstood.
"It's fairly clear, Victoria. Undress. Take off your clothes."
"You want me to...to....you want to do
that
?" Her voice was trembling now. She could see the fire in his eyes as he stared at her, running his eyes up and down her body. Yep…he definitely wanted
that
.
From her? Why?
"For such a literate woman you seem to be having a very hard time with comprehension and speech. It's very simple. You want me to forget the incident. I want you to undress and then take further instructions. Understand?," he asked her softly as he released her confined hair and let it spill over her shoulders.
Oh, God
. Tory shivered as she felt the brush of his hand on her cheek. She couldn't do this, but if she didn't, she would very likely lose her job. "Please, Mr. Duncan. Don't do this to me."
He reached out and caressed her breasts through her sweater, lazily stroking, teasing her pebbled nipples as he murmured, “Since we’re getting personal, I think it’s appropriate for you to call me Luke. I’d like to hear you scream my name when you come.” He grabbed the edges of her sweater and pulled them up until she had to raise her arms for him to pull the garment over her head. It was dropped carelessly on the floor.
"Looks like your comprehension still isn't good. I guess you need a little help," he whispered with a husky voice against her ear.
"I...I...please....don't," she trembled as she tried to reason with him. This wasn’t the warm, friendly Lucas Duncan that she saw every Friday night. This was a man that made every internal alarm she had screech inside of her; a sensuous, seductive male that called to every feminine desire she had.
He undid her lacy bra and it joined her sweater. His warm, big hands surrounded her breasts, stroking her skin, setting it on fire wherever he touched. “Lovely, lovely, Tory,” he breathed as his fingers circled her nipples and leisurely, thoroughly explored her.
He pulled his shirt off over his head in one, agile motion and pulled her against him. She could feel him, breasts to chest, skin to skin, and she nearly moaned as the rough, prickly heat of his bare chest abraded her nipples, turning them into stiff peaks.
He took off her glasses and set them gently on the chair.
She was self-conscious and she tried to cover her unimpressive breasts with shaking hands, insisting, "Mr. Duncan. You can't just do this. We---"
“Luke,” he told her darkly as his mouth claimed hers, stopping any further speech. He kissed her with a ferocious passion that negated his calm words. His mouth and tongue conquered her, demanding her to yield…and she yielded. Her mouth opened to his, meeting his hot tongue as they mingled, her body demanding that she succumb to him.
She broke away in a moment of sanity, panting and confused. “Luke. Please."
"That’s exactly what I wanted to hear?" He sounded breathless as he lowered her skirt, pulling her shoes off as he pulled it over her feet. She had to hold onto his shoulders for balance, realizing that she had never even felt him undo the fastenings of her skirt.
"This isn't right. We can't do this." She tried to sound firm, but her will to resist was shattering.
As he caressed her moist mound softly through her panties, teasing her, her resistance completely broke apart. She moaned as his other hand stroked her breast with firm, erotic fingers, pinching just hard enough to send a jolt to her pussy.
This was the stuff of fantasies. Actually, ever one of her hot fantasies revolved around being taken by Luke.
"You're wet, Tory," he whispered as his tongue traveled gently over the edges of her ear.
Her face flamed. She already knew her pussy was drenched. Her panties had been damp since he had first touched her nipples through her sweater. It only took a glance, a touch, a smile, a whiff of his masculine scent and she was wetter than she had ever been in her life.
His fingers grew more demanding as he lowered her panties and caressed her slit, gliding through her glistening folds to her clit.
She moaned, helpless to fight her rising desire. This man could make her crazy with the simplest caress. His hands, tongue and mouth created a blaze through her body that she couldn't control. The feel of him, the smell of him, the taste of him was nearly her undoing.
Right or wrong…she was going to have a taste of this man. Her body demanded it.
She reached for the fastenings of his jeans to free his cock. She needed to feel him, touch him. As though impatient, he finished the job, lowering his briefs and jeans down his legs and pulling them off.
He stood before her naked and she gasped. He was beautiful. His body muscular and powerful, his cock fully erect.
She reached out and stroked from his chest to his groin, relishing the feel of his skin, rejoicing in his swiftly indrawn breath of pleasure as she stroked his cock. She circled the tip with her finger, spreading his pre-cum moisture around the head.