Discovery (Esquire Black Duet #1) by Hayley Faiman
Lucas Black, Esquire.
The name alone was an enigma.
Dressed in a suit that cost more than my rent.
Green eyes that danced and a cocky smile firmly planted on kissable lips.
The rumors about him were true.
I wasn’t ready for all that was Lucas Black. I knew it. I didn’t care.
I was willing to take whatever he gave me.
Excerpt Discovery (Esquire Black Duet #1) by Hayley Faiman
“You have a meeting today with Lucas Black, don’t you?” Kay Robinson, the paralegal in my office, asks.
She’s older, in her early sixties. She’s let her hair go naturally gray and wears it in a tight bun at the back of her head. She always has on calf-length suit skirts. Her jackets cover a frilly ruffled shirt beneath.
I absolutely love her. She also says things that, nine times out of ten, shock the shit out of me. She has the dirtiest mouth and the most prim-and-proper appearance. I hope to be like her one day.
Looking up at her from my coffee, I nod.
“Yeah, in an hour. I’m trying to prepare a little. Honestly, I probably have this entire file completely memorized,” I admit with a shrug.
She grins. “Honey, there is no way in hell you will everbe prepared to meet Lucas Black.”
Curiously, I look up at her, waiting for her to continue. When she does, I’m not prepared for her next sentence, let alone the enigma who is Lucas Black, apparently.
“Lucas Black is one of the sexiest, nastiest, downright lickablemen I have ever seen before. He’s tall and dark, with green eyes and scruff on his face that makes you want to rub up on it just to feel it against your thighs. The promise of multiple orgasms that man could give, Lord, I need to stop thinking about him,” she whispers.
“Kay,” I gasp. “Thanks, now I’m terrified.”
Giving her a shaky smile, I decide that he must be way too old for me anyway. I mean, if Kay thinks he’s hot, he’s got to be closer to her age than my own, right? All I can think about is this man, this nasty lickable man.
She nods. “You fucking should be.” She lifts her chin, turns and walks away.
Mr. Lucas Black himself is leaning against the side of my car, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his eyes very much focused on me. My feet don’t falter because I’m scared, not really, it’s just, I’d almost forgotten just how downright sexy he is. Almost.
He’s wearing navy blue suit pants that are tailored to his long legs to perfection. His light grey button-up shirt is opened a bit at the collar to show off his upper chest.
His sleeves are rolled up to showcase his forearms—his muscularforearms. So sexy. I’m pretty sure men know exactly what they’re doing when they roll up their sleeves like that. They must know how it affects us women. Judging by the tip of his lips, heknows.
“How may I help you this evening, Mr. Black?” I ask, clearing my throat as I take a few steps closer toward him.
I have to look up into his eyes, even though I’m in high heels and he’s leaning against my car with his head tipped down. He’s tall, I estimate his height to be around six-foot-three inches. A mouthwatering six-foot-three inches at that. He’s long and tall, lean and if I touched his abs, I think they’d be sculpted with ridged muscle.
He smirks. I assume it to be his signature expression, as it comes very easily to him. “Your car is a piece of shit, Brooklyn,” he murmurs.
My body jerks slightly, and I narrow my eyes at him, glaring up into his green gaze. “You’re such a dick,” I announce. My eyes widen in surprise, shocked that I’ve actually said those words aloud.
His shoulders shake with a quiet laugh as he smiles broadly. “Yeah, beautiful, I know,” he admits.
“Why are you here? And why do you keep giving me flowers?” I ask, placing my hands on my hips.
His brows rise and he shakes his head once. “I haven’t sent you any flowers, not since the ones you promptly shipped right back to my ass, kitten,” he murmurs.
My eyebrows pull together, remembering the bouquet wrapped in plastic on my front porch. Even at the time, I thought it didn’t seem to be his style, but hell, what do I know?
He pushes off of my car while I’m thinking, and then I’m suddenly wrapped in his arms—his strong, spicy, masculine scent surrounding me. One of his hands wraps around my waist while the other rests at the side of my neck. He’s so close, so fucking close, that it wouldn’t take very much effort to kiss him—not much at all.
His hard body presses against mine, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I like it a little too much, too much to ignore or pretend that I don’t.
I’m in so much trouble.