The room itself is mammoth with two seating areas. I can't imagine Luke picking out sofas or lamps. I wonder if whoever stocked the kitchen with bakeware decorated this room, but quickly discount that idea. This room was professionally decorated. The entire condo was, minus those three empty bedrooms. I still find their complete emptiness a little odd. I imagine the decorator cried at not being able to create guest suites with mounds of fluffy comforters and expensive pillows plumped just so.

While beautiful, this room is not lived in. Looking around, I wonder if Luke's ever put a Christmas tree up in here. I giggle at the thought. There is no way, which is too bad, because there is an empty alcove in this room in front of a huge window with views of the park. I imagine the architect pictured a grand piano in this space, but it's perfect for a Christmas tree.

I sit in one of the armchairs and surf the internet on my iPad before the office door clicks open, finally. Luke tells Gina to call his office on Monday if she needs anything as he walks her to the front door. I'd rather hear him tell her to call him never, but at least she's leaving. I stay put in the chair.

The front door closes and the house is quiet. I know Luke didn't leave with her, but I don't hear him. A few minutes later Luke walks into the room with a handful of cookies.

"You made cookies?" He winks at me as he stuffs one in his mouth. He's in athletic pants and a short-sleeved tee shirt. His hair is tousled, like he ran a towel through it after his workout. I hate that Gina saw him like this.

"I did," I reply, not sure what to make of him right now. I guess we're not fighting about condoms anymore.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, inhaling another cookie and glancing around the unused room. "I couldn't find you."

I shrug. "I didn't know what to do with myself while I was waiting for you to finish with your ex-fiancee."

"Miss Tisdale, is that sarcasm I'm hearing?" He leans over me and places his now empty hands on the chair arms, pinning me in place. "I'm very finished with my ex-fiancee, Sophie." He leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips.

"Why is she always around then?" I ask before I can think better of it. I trust Luke. I'm not even going to say it's because I don't trust Gina, because she's irrelevant. She can't make him do anything he doesn't want to do. I simply don't like her, or her intentions, but it's none of my business.

"It's just… work stuff, Sophie," he says, straightening. "I'm going to take a shower. Do you want to go shopping? Gina said something about you wanting to go to Target?"

I laugh then. She's such a bitch. "Yeah, Luke, let's go to Target."

Chapter 21

We do go to Target, and let me tell you, Target with Luke is a lot of fun. I ask him if we can get a tree and he looks a little bewildered by the request but agrees. And when I mention while we look at the pre-lit trees in Target that I've never had a real tree because my grandfather is allergic to them, Luke looks at me for a moment, his gaze moving across my face like he's imagining me as a child, and then pulls out his phone and makes a call. By the time we finish shopping there's a ten-foot balsam fir tree set up and strung with lights in Luke's great room.

He tells me to pick out "whatever trees need," but I refuse, only agreeing to pick the tree decor once he admits that he's partial to blue and that the elf ornaments are funny. Which leads to my discovery that Luke has never seen the movie Elf.

While Luke goes to locate a DVD of Elf I scour the seasonal department picking all the blue ornaments and elves that I think Luke will like. He comes back with an armful of stuff and dumps it in the cart like a kid with a black American Express card. Then he smacks my ass right in the middle of the aisle and asks what else we can buy at Target.

I laugh and ask how he gets food and paper towels without ever shopping and he tells me that Mrs. Gieger takes care of all of that. I look at him blankly, having no idea who Mrs. Gieger is, until he informs me that he has a housekeeper who stops in during the week. Apparently she does everything. Shopping, laundry, dry-cleaning runs, cleaning, changing sheets, emptying the dishwasher. Everything. Rich people are weird.

We go back to Luke's with bags of stuff, and looking at the size of his car, it's a good thing he's had a tree delivered. I don't think the engineers at Mercedes had Christmas trees in mind when they built the S63.

Unpacking the bags is even more fun. We carry all the bags into the kitchen and start unloading, but I keep finding things that aren't ornaments.

"You bought red and white striped elf socks?" I ask, holding them up, confused. They're knee-highs.

"Not for me," he replies. "You like funny socks. And pumpkin. You like pumpkin." He pulls a tube of pumpkin spice lip balm out of a bag. He hands it to me and I put it on then tilt my neck back and raise up on my tiptoes to kiss him. Things escalate pretty quickly after that.

My sweater is off before I even realize what is happening. He tosses it on the granite island and then unzips my jeans and yanks both my jeans and panties to mid-thigh before picking me up and sitting my naked ass on the edge of the island countertop.

He slides my bottoms off the rest of the way until they land in a puddle on the floor that he kicks aside before lowering his own pants only enough to pull out his cock. He strokes the length of himself several times while I watch, itching to reach forward and do that for him. He spreads my legs apart and steps between them, hooking my right thigh in the crook of his left elbow, his right hand still stroking himself. He's staring at the slit between my legs, spreading my lips open with his fingers.

My heart is racing and my breathing hitches. I can feel the heat and pressure building and moisture begins to slick my passage. He steps in closer, my thighs spread obscenely wide, my bare bottom on the edge of the counter. I lean back on my hands and watch as Luke places the head of his penis against me. I suck in a breath, not sure I'm wet enough for him just yet. He's so big and he's always had me dripping for him before entering me.

My apprehension is for naught as he doesn't enter me, but instead starts slapping my open pussy with his cock.

"Oh, God." The sight is too much combined with all the blood pumping through me. Every nerve ending is alive with want. I bite my lip and drop to my elbows, looking at the ceiling.

"No." Luke's voice startles me and I move my gaze to his. "You'll watch."

I blink at him and murmur an agreement before he clarifies, "Eyes here, Sophie," indicating where our bodies are connected. His penis is sliding up and down along my spread lips as he coats himself in my wetness.

I can only nod as I pick my elbows off the counter and return to resting my upper body on my hands, the angle perfect for watching. With my full attention where he wants it, Luke grabs himself and guides the head of his penis to my wet, waiting opening. He sticks the tip in, bare, nothing between us. I feel his gaze move from where he's resting just inside of me to my face. I look up and nod before returning my attention to his cock, sliding inside of me one slow inch at a time.

He slides most of the way out then slams back inside of me and I whimper. Not from pain, but from pure pleasure, watching increasing my hedonistic enjoyment. He slips his right arm under my left knee so now I'm splayed open with both legs dangling over his arms, bouncing as he thrusts into me.