Lucas stood with his arms crossed in front of him as he stood next to the black Rolls Royce. He was still dressed in the clothes he had worn earlier for his meeting, only, this time he had discarded the suit jacket. I could not decide which was even more difficult to resist. The sight of my boyfriend in a sexy three-piece, neatly shaven beard and hair arrayed to perfection or him in in his waistcoat with his sleeves rolled up, and a few buttons popped down enough to reveal a dusting of hair on his chest, his hair in a disheveled state that made me crave running my hand through it and not to forget that smile that made me weak in my knees every time.
I could not decide. But take it from me, resisting Lucas Maxwell was not only a waste of your time, but it was also damn torture.
Swallowin
