Chapter 2Men Are Just Toys

Maybe from all the built-up tension, I had a dream that night.

I dreamed we were by the window at Knights’ Tavern. Lucas held me from behind, stripping off all my clothes, then spreading my long, pale legs wide in an M shape facing the street outside.

People stopped to peek in, but Lucas didn’t care. He thrust hard into me from behind, over and over, until a wave of pleasure surged through my lower belly.

I woke up, my thighs still trembling, the sheets beneath me soaked.

I was breathing heavily, still lost in the afterglow of the erotic dream.

My phone rang suddenly. It was Lucas.

“Hello?”

“Sorry about yesterday. I got carried away.”

I stayed silent. He kept trying to fill the quiet.

“I remember your place is pretty far from Knights’ Tavern. We stay open late, and it’s not safe for a girl to head home alone that late. You should rent something nearby, or if you don’t mind, you could stay with me. I’ve got a two-bedroom apartment…”

“Sure.”

Lucas laughed and hung up.

The fish was about to bite the hook. I hoped this one wouldn’t bore me too quickly.

I packed a few things, deliberately putting some sexy lingerie on top.

When I got to Lucas’s place, he programmed my fingerprint into the lock and handed me a bag.

“I just picked up some slippers and toiletries for you. Make yourself at home.”

I glanced at the bathroom and got an idea.

“Lucas, I’m all sweaty from moving. Mind if I use your shower?”

Of course he didn’t say no.

I purposely left my suitcase in the bedroom.

Near the end of my shower, I called out like I was in a panic. He came running.

“Lucas, my bra and panties are in the suitcase—you’ll see them right on top. Can you grab them for me?”

His bathroom door is frosted glass with a sliding panel. I left a small gap open and stretched out my arm, still dripping with water.

I’d turned on the heat lamp, and the light cast my silhouette perfectly onto the frosted door.

I’m confident about my body. No way he could stay completely calm.

He coughed awkwardly, then went to get them.

I waited a while before he came back.

I peeked out through the gap. His face was red like a ripe peach.

It was the black lace set I’d carefully chosen—hollowed-out and revealing. The way his big hand gripped it made the whole thing feel erotic.

He looked down and clumsily tried to pass the pieces through the gap, but I didn’t take them.

Just as he opened his mouth, I slid my finger along his wrist, up to his fingertips, and took my lingerie.

“Sorry, Lucas. Couldn’t quite reach.”

Lucas is the type who acts proper when he’s sober.

Men are all the same—they want it but pretend they don’t.