The Last Boyfriend by J. S. Cooper Page A

ruined
everything.”
    “Ruined what?” He made a
weird expression. “You don’t seriously think you’re going to marry
him? I thought that was the alcohol speaking.”
    “I never said I was going
to marry him.” I sighed. “I just said that, perhaps he could be my
last boyfriend.”
    “You confuse me, Lucky.” He
sighed. I studied his face and wondered how it was that he could
look so handsome first thing in the morning.
    “I confuse you? Is that a
joke?”
    “I don’t understand you.”
He frowned and ran his hands through his hair.
    “What’s to
understand?”
    “Everything.” He turned
away from me and looked at my walls. “I like your room. You have
nice style.”
    “You mean, for a poor
person?” I laughed, thinking about his lavishly furnished
house.
    “No, for any type of
person.” He pointed at some posters on my wall. “I love
Monet.”
    “Me too.” I smiled. “I
thought about studying Art History for a while.”
    “But you decided on British
history?”
    “British
history?”
    “You know so much about
King Henry VIII.”
    “Oh yes. I forgot about
that conversation. I changed my focus from the reformation to the
Civil Rights Era.”
    “Oh yeah. My civil rights
expert.” He grinned. “You’re one smart cookie.”
    “Not really, but I guess I
am compared to the other girls you date.” Oh no, why had I said
date. We weren’t dating. We weren’t even friends. He was my boss
now. And he was in my bed. I wanted to groan out loud. What was
going on here?
    “Well you know. I have to
change it up.” I felt his arms around my waist and he pulled me
towards him. “Let’s see if you’re a better kisser as
well.”
    “Wait, what?” My eyes
widened as I felt his hands on my ass. “Uhm, what’s going on
here?”
    “I am going to see if you
are better than my other girls in every way.”
    “Zane.” I spoke his name
quietly, my lips were mere inches away from his, and I was aching
to feel them on mine.
    “Yes, Lucky.”
    “Why were you waiting there
for me last night?” I frowned. “It’s kind of creepy, you know.
Waiting outside my house.”
    “Are you saying you think
I’m a creep?”
    “No.” I paused. “Well, you
know.” I stared into his eyes, looking for some answers. I didn’t
understand Zane Beaumont and I really needed to. My heart was
thumping and my skin was tingling. My stomach was jumping at being
so close to him and all I wanted was to make love to him. Maybe it
was because I was still slightly hung over. Or maybe it was because
we were both lying down in my bed. All I knew was that I wanted to
have sex with Zane Beaumont. It was almost inevitable. I had felt
this way from the first moment I had met him. When I was with him,
I forgot about my rules. About the plan to wait for that one
special guy. I just needed to be with him. To feel him. I wanted
him. It was as simple as that. I was willing to deal with the
heartache. What was one last heartache? I’d been through it before.
I survived.
    “Kiss me,” I whispered. I
didn’t want to think any more. All I wanted was to feel his lips
against mine. I wanted to feel his hands on my skin.
    Zane grinned and leaned
towards me. I felt his lips press against mine, hard and rough. His
hands went behind my head and he brought me closer to him. I felt
his tongue creep into my mouth, and I kissed him back hard. He
tasted too sweet for the morning. I was enveloped in his taste and
our tongues tangled together passionately. I gasped in his mouth as
I felt his hand on my ass pushing me into him. Our bodies were
pressed together and I felt his manhood against me, aroused and
shifting. I moved my body so I could feel him better and he
chuckled, rolling me over onto my back, so that he was on top of
me. His lips never left mine and he shifted himself in between my
legs, his erection struggling against the confines of his pants. I
wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled his body down, closer
to mine. His chest crushed