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Coming Home Page 16

by Lydia Michaels


  “What won’t be your own?”

  “Me, Lucian. The plan is to make a better me. I need to be better than what I am and I need to accomplish that on my own, for my own peace of mind.”

  She was being so vague he felt like an idiot. “I don’t understand.” Why did she need money to do that?

  “Do you remember the first time you ever really succeeded in business? Do you remember what it felt like to do something completely on your own and know that—no matter what—no one could ever take away that sense of pride because you earned it? I need to earn this. For me.”

  His mind played over possibilities. Curiosity ate at him. “Is it a business venture? Maybe there’s someone I could hook you up with to help.”

  Her palms slapped against her thighs and she huffed. “You see? That’s what I’m talking about! No. Just . . . let it go.”

  For the next several minutes they rode in silence. She seemed to relax, but his mind was running wild over what she could possibly be using the money for. His best guess was something with her stones and crafts, but she’d left most of that stuff behind and he hadn’t seen any clues to her plans in her apartment. There weren’t a whole lot of places she could hide things.

  “If I promise not to bug you about the money, will you come home with me?”

  She growled. “Oh. My. God. Will you stop?”

  He relented for a split second until his protective nature kicked in. “Your apartment isn’t safe.”

  She jerked out of his grip so fast he missed the chance to pull her back. “Did you see the men the cops arrested? I’m not some fragile flower, Lucian. They grabbed me and I fought them off. My apartment has locks and I have wasp spray in case there’s an intruder. I also have my phone back if I need to call the cops. For Christ’s sake, I used to sleep with a shoelace tied to all my belongings with one eye open. I’m a hell of a lot safer now than I was in the past. Drop it.”

  He’d drop it. For now. But the argument was far from over. He’d put a man at her door just to be safe. She may have gotten out of that alley mostly unscathed, but that was only because the couple in the insurance office heard her scream. The thought of what could have happened was too grim for him to consider.

  Conceding his point, he grudgingly instructed Dugan to drive her to her apartment. Maybe he would stay the night with her. He inwardly groaned when he considered her tiny bed, wondering if she bought such a small mattress on purpose.

  The limo pulled to the curb in front of her apartment and she waited as if expecting something. Dugan opened the door and she hesitated again. “I’m walking you in,” he said, making it clear he would not relent.

  She nodded and appeared relieved. At times he simply couldn’t figure her out. She was . . . independently fragile.

  As they climbed out Lucian turned to Dugan. “I’ll be back in a bit. Wait.”

  He followed Evelyn through the alley, scowling at the poor lighting and vacant sidewalks. This wasn’t necessarily a residential area, which made it more dangerous at night. She withdrew her keys and he took them from her hand. Undoing the lock, he flipped on her lights and escorted her up the stairs.

  When she reached the top she tossed her bag on the bed and faced him with a ‘now what’ expression.

  This whole set up is ludicrous.

  He sighed. “Come here.” She stepped toward him, which in such a little space wasn’t difficult, and he cupped her cheeks. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Kiss me?” She offered a cheeky smile, and he sensed she was on the verge of gloating that she’d gotten her way.

  Rather than continue to argue, he did as she asked and kissed her. Her petite body curved into his as she went up on her toes. His fingers slid beneath her hair, pulling her close as his lips slanted over hers, deepening the kiss.

  Within a minute they were each breathing hard. His fingers pulled at the straps of her dress as his mouth coasted over her jaw and down her slender neck. She made soft kitten sounds that went right to his dick. He tugged at her dress, trying to get her out of it, when she shifted away. He tightened his grip on her hip.

  “Don’t,” he warned. He’d surrendered enough control for one evening.

  She relaxed and he lifted her dress over her head, tossing it to the floor. His mouth traced the slope of her breast as he cupped her. His thumbs slipped behind the lace and tugged the cups out of the way, revealing two perfectly pink nipples. He bent and pulled one into his mouth, sucking forcefully.

  Her spine bowed as her knees went weak. He caught her in his grip and released the wet nipple with a pop. Glancing over his shoulder, he growled in frustration. There was nowhere to go. “Your apartment is too small.”

  “My apartment is just fine,” she argued in a breathy voice as she dropped to the floor and tugged him with her.

  His knees landed on the firm discount carpeting as he followed her down. She stretched out beneath him, extending her arms over her head invitingly. Little temptress.

  His mouth found hers as his knees fit between her thighs and nudged her legs apart. He felt like a goddamn kid trying to cop a feel before his girlfriend’s dad came home. Yet, he was so desperate to feel her, so reluctant to let her go, he’d settle for this improbable situation that was his temporary reality.

  A tingle of excitement raced up his spine as a sense of urgency settled over him. He had to go soon and he didn’t want to. He needed to make this time with her count.

  His fingers plucked at her panties while his mouth kissed down her belly. She’d lost weight and he didn’t like that. He’d make a point to see that she was eating enough and not falling into old habits.

  She writhed impatiently as he teased her sex through her panties. God, she was fucking beautiful. If he lost her again, he’d never survive it.

  “Lucian . . .”

  The corner of his mouth cocked up in a half grin. He loved when she said his name all needy like that. Fingers teased over her folds, keeping the silk of her panties as a barrier. She wanted to date like children. He’d show her what that was like. Moisture dampened the fabric as he baited her.

  He hid his grin when her frustration became evident. She grabbed for his shirt, but he restrained her, pressing her hands into the carpet and weighing her down with his body. The denim ridge of his arousal rubbed over her sex and she moaned. He could tell she wanted more. So did he, in more ways than one.

  His erection moved over her until he found the perfect rhythm and glide. Her moans hitched as he nudged her clit just right. She’d get off, but it wouldn’t compare to coming with actual penetration.

  His body flexed over hers and suddenly her cries increased and her head tipped back, spreading her hair over the gray carpet. His cock was ready to explode, but he fought back the urge to take her. Slowly, he found her mouth and kissed her.

  When he eased back and carefully stood, she frowned up at him. “What are you doing?”

  His lips twitched, but he kept them firm. “I have to get home. You could come.” He smirked, letting her know the pun was intended.

  She didn’t seem to see the humor. “But . . . we didn’t . . .”

  He nodded and pursed his lips. “I know. And now we have to wait until Tuesday to see each other again.”

  She scowled. “Is that what this is about?”

  “Of course not. This is merely one of the disadvantages to our living situation.”

  “You don’t have to go,” she said pointedly.

  “Do you want me to spend the night? I’d hate to impose on your newfound independence.”

  Her silver eyes narrowed and she sat up. She snatched her dress off the ground and covered her breasts. “You’re right. You better go.” Her words would’ve been alarming had he not detected the competitive challenge in her tone and the quiver of a smirk at her kiss-swollen lips.

  He blew her a kiss an
d stepped away. “Sweet dreams, Evelyn. I’ll call you in the morning.” He edged his way toward the stairs. She was glaring at him. “And Evelyn.”

  “What?” Oh, she was salty . . .

  “No coming. Rules are rules.” Their circumstances might have changed, but his rules remained the same. Her orgasms were his to give. And he would know if she broke a rule. She was terrible at hiding such things from him. He only wished she was just as terrible at keeping the other secrets, like where the hell she worked and what she needed all that money for.

  She threw her shoe at him. “Good night, Lucian!”

  He chuckled as he bounded down the steps. He locked the door behind him and his cheerful whistle echoed through the alley as he headed for the limo.

  ***

  Sitting so still it was a wonder his lungs remembered to breathe, Lucian stared out the large window behind his desk, the sleeping city a quiet storm without wind. Lavender shades of silver and blue painted the world a still life that always entranced him with its peaceful qualities. He’d been sitting there since sometime after three, silently letting his mind wonder over the mundane and lulling his body in a way the quiet of his room never could.

  While his gaze watched the silhouetted landscape reflect the colors of dawn, his mind dwelled on other forms of beauty. His mind should have been focused on business, but long, tapered legs and a cinched little waist filled his mind until his imagination lent her weight to his empty palms. She was back in his life. His Evelyn was finally back.

  There was something incredibly tenuous about their reunion, something Lucian feared could shatter at any moment. Always so strident and sure in his endeavors, he was man enough to admit, for the first time in his life, he’d found something he coveted so much it terrified him. She was so much more than a possession. It was what she gave him. A soft security that never took tangible form, yet he felt it everywhere in her presence. What they had he cherished beyond measure, and it was changing him in ways he didn’t understand.

  Never one to backpedal or hesitate, she somehow gave him second thoughts. Thoughts of not rushing in, not jarring this delicate slice of peace she presented, thoughts of . . . compromising his desires for someone else’s. He didn’t understand how she made him feel so different, but she did and he was determined not to do anything hasty that could damage their love.

  She loved him. That in itself was a gift beyond measure. He never—

  His thoughts cut off at the soft vibration rattling over a sheaf of papers on his desk. He checked the antique pocket watch resting on his ledger and frowned. It was just past four a.m.

  His hand scooped up his phone and a smile curved his mouth when he read the screen. His thumb slid across the screen and he brought the cell to his ear. “Did I conjure you with my thoughts?”

  “Did I wake you?”

  He settled back into his leather high-backed chair and turned to face the dawn once more, awaiting the brilliant show of light that never failed to rejuvenate him each day. “You know me better than that.”

  “Are you at your desk?” Her voice was sleep-roughened silk tantalizing his ears.

  “Yes. Just thinking. Couldn’t you sleep?”

  She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. The soft sound of sheets rustling had him imagining her warm and cozy in her little bed. He loved that she’d call him at odd hours of the night. It was the next best thing to having her there. “I had a bad dream.”

  He glanced down at his legs as his brow drew tight. “You okay? You don’t usually have nightmares. Want to talk about it?”

  “We don’t have to. I just . . . wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Want me to come over?”

  She chuckled, her voice a raspy invitation he’d be more than happy to follow. “No. It’s still dark out and I have work in a few hours.”

  He growled. “You and your work.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “What was your dream about?”

  The playfulness siphoned out of the space between. “Pearl. Me. It was more of a flashback but everything was different. I was older, but still young.”

  “What happened?”

  Pearl was a burden he feared Evelyn would always feel responsible for. He couldn’t blame her. Pearl was her mother. If having his mother back meant having her in the form of Pearl, he didn’t know if he’d be able to turn down that sort of devil’s deal. In that respect, he understood Evelyn’s loyalty and need to save her any way she could.

  “It was cold. It was so cold I woke up shivering. When I was little, my mom used to send me with money to buy her hits while she worked off the pay with some man that used to come around. I got lost.”

  “Did this really happen?”

  “Yeah. I was only about eight, but in my dream I was older. I was so cold and scared. It was dark before I found my way back. There was a cop patrolling in a squad car and I almost asked him for help. Something made me hesitate though, made me think twice about talking to him. In that moment I knew he would help me, but if I asked for his assistance I also knew I would likely never see Pearl again. He’d take me and put me in a home she’d never follow me to.”

  Lucian grew uncomfortable in his own skin trying to imagine an eight-year-old Evelyn attempting to rationalize her way through a situation like that. This was partially where her fear of law officers stemmed from. He could remind her she was now an adult, but didn’t see the point. Certain ingrained tendencies would be impossible to rewrite.

  This was who she was. He’d take care of her so long as she let him.

  “It was a stupid dream,” she muttered.

  “Everyone has fears, Evelyn. Some are rational and some aren’t, but that doesn’t make them any less frightening.”

  “This from the man who fears nothing.”

  “I have fears.”

  The echo of her gentle breathing filled the air. She whispered, “What are you afraid of, Lucian?”

  Losing you. Ruining what we have again. Not being strong enough for you. “I’m afraid of what I can’t control.”

  “Ah, but I thought you controlled the world.”

  “Smartass.” He smirked in the dark. “I’m afraid of not being able to protect you. I want to always be there when you need me, when you’re lost. I always want to help you find your way home.”

  He sensed her satisfaction with his answer and imagined her blushing in the dark as she attempted to deny her lips a grin. “Surely that will never happen with Dugan forever on my tail.”

  “Exactly.” A few beats passed. “But that’s not what I mean.”

  “What do you mean?” Her question was asked in a husky voice reserved for mornings and talks with cheeks pressed upon soft pillows.

  “I mean I never want you to think you can’t come to me, with anything, no matter what. I’d stop the world for you.”

  His mind filled with strobes of red and blue lights, flares lined along the shoulder of the road leading to his estate, and Monique’s covered body on a gurney. But in his nightmares it wasn’t Monique. It was Evelyn. Those were his bad dreams.

  His request slipped past his lips, a hushed plea. “Come over.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why? I want to hold you and make you feel safe.”

  “You do. Just knowing that I can hear your voice is reassuring.”

  He sighed. “I feel like I just got you back and I can’t reach you. It’s making me crazy. Will you spend the night with me tonight?”

  “I . . . I can’t.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “I have plans.”

  “Tell me your plans.”

  “Lucian,” she said in warning.

  “What are your plans?”

  “I have a . . . meeting.”

  His brow kinked. “With?”

  She sighed. “Don’t do
this. I told you there are things I need to take care of on my own.”

  “I’m not doing anything but asking you a question. You’re the one being secretive for no reason. Be open with me. I don’t understand—”

  “Things are different now. I can’t go back to the way things were. Not after . . .”

  Right. Not after he royally fucked up. This was the shit that was making him crazy. He’d somehow placed himself in a certain kind of purgatory. How long would it take to get her to be open with him again?

  He hated tiptoeing around, worrying he’d push too hard and somehow push her away. He needed to reel his temper in and trust her to open up when she was ready.

  “When you’re ready, will you tell me?”

  “Lucian.”

  “Give me something, Evelyn. I’m trying to be patient here. At least give me credit for not insisting on full disclosure. I know it has to do with the money. I don’t care. I want you to have it to do with as you please. I won’t talk you out of whatever you’re buying. Just . . . eventually . . . tell me.”

  There was a long moment of silence. “When I’m ready.”

  “Good enough.”

  Chapter 12

  Postmortem

  An analysis of a game after it’s over

  “This is fucking bullshit.” Lucian gripped his cell as he climbed into the elevator, maneuvering around the others filling the cramped space. A woman in a fitted suit smiled up at him. He ignored her and focused on what Shamus was saying.

  “I can’t figure it out either. This deal was in the bag. I don’t understand what’s causing them to procrastinate.”

  “Have you sent over the paperwork from Quincy?” The elevator paused as several riders exited. Lucian waited as the doors closed and it continued on its journey to the top.

  “They got it yesterday. My understanding was that they were only waiting for the final draft. The board was all in agreement this was the best move. It doesn’t make sense for them to pull back now. What’s changed?” Shamus was clearly as frustrated as he was.

 

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