by J. D. Chase
I hastily closed my mouth and glared at him. “That is so unfair!”
“What that I win the bet and get to do whatever I want to you?”
“No … well, yes - that too, but I meant it was unfair that you get to look so perfect in a couple of minutes. It takes me ages!”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Perfect eh? So you think I am perfect?” A lazy grin was steadily stealing over his face.
“I said you looked perfect. Looks can be deceiving!” I raised an eyebrow to mirror his own.
“Ah, I’ll settle for you thinking that I only look perfect for now. And anyway, what’s to say that your hair won’t look perfect in two minutes … it could be all in the styling!”
He picked up the pot of wax and rubbed some into his palms. As he reached out his hands I muttered that I didn’t think that it was a good idea but he pretended not to hear. He gently smoothed the wax over my hair, from root to tip, and then began to blast it with the hairdryer. A few minutes later, he commanded me to stand and bend forward, as he had done. He then ran his fingers through my hair before returning me to an upright position and demanding that I shook my head. I obeyed and he stood back, hands on his hips.
“Well?” I demanded, looking around and realizing that there were no mirrors in the room.
“You definitely look like you’ve just been fucked!” he smirked.
“Where is there a mirror?”
He led me through a door into a huge dressing room. On one side, was a long rail full of smart work attire, suits and shirts, with shoes arranged neatly underneath. The other side consisted mainly of drawers with two tall cupboards. On the wall opposite me was a full length mirror. I gasped when confronted by my reflection. I looked like I was on my way to a 1980s themed party - my hair was huge.
“This had better not be how I look when I fuck or I am never fucking ever again!” I hissed, hastily trying to flatten it.
I heard Lucas chuckling but, as I turned to give him a piece of my mind, I realized that he’d left the room.
Despite my best efforts, my hair still looked appalling. I took my emergency hair supplies from my purse and put my hair into two pigtails, thinking that would have to do.
I wandered back into the empty bedroom to find that the candles had been blown out and a lamp turned on. Lucas’ iPod was no longer playing either - it had been removed from the dock. A glance at the bedside alarm clock showed that it was just after 10pm. I yawned, realizing how tired I was and went in search of him.
The living room was empty and silent so I continued down the hallway towards the dining room. As I neared, I could hear music faintly. I smiled, he really did love music. Did his iPod accompany him everywhere? When I reached the dining room, it too was empty but a door on the far side of the room was ajar I could hear Green Day’s Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).
I crossed the room and, as I reached for the door handle, I realized that that it was not just Billie Joe Armstrong that I could hear. I stood still, not wanting him to know I was there in case he stopped singing. He was good. Better than good - he was amazing. Who’d have thought! Was there anything that this man couldn’t do?
After a minute or so, I pushed open the door. Lucas was stood with his back to me, barefoot and wearing only a pair of black cropped combats. He looked so different in them … I was so used to power suited Lucas, or smart casual Lucas. This was something else. God, his toned back was sexy as hell … and those combats look to be just about hanging onto his hips. Hmmmm. He immediately turned, smiled and stopped singing. I knew he‘d stop!
“Don’t stop. You’ve got a good voice,” I urged.
He ignored me and picked up two tiny tubs of ice-cream off the counter. “Want one? I was bringing you one.”
“Thanks but it’s getting late. I thought I should come and speak to you about sleeping arrangements.”
He frowned and put the tubs back on the counter. “What sleeping arrangements?”
“Ours,” I replied, thinking that surely it was obvious.
“Oh. Well, I had assumed that you would be sharing my bed. But if you’d rather I slept on the sofa, while you have my bed …”
“Of course I wouldn’t rather you slept on the sofa!” I cried.
“Well, where do you suggest I sleep?” he said, looking very serious.
“I … um … I just didn’t want to assume that you intended for me to sleep with you.”
He pursed his lips. “Issy, I have spent the night in your bed. After what we did on my bed earlier today, I can’t imagine that sleeping in it with me would cause you any problems.”
I could feel the color creeping into my cheeks. “Um, yes … well, I think I will turn in for the night, if that’s okay.”
“But it’s only 10pm, I’m usually still working. This is early for me.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Don’t let me stop you. I think I’ll turn in anyway.”
“Issy, are you feeling okay? Is your head hurting?” He came closer and took my hand. I was taken aback by his genuine concern for my wellbeing.
“No. No, I’m fine. I just don’t want to impose and it’s been quite a day. A day full of surprises. I feel a little weird, if I‘m honest.”
I saw tension in Lucas’ jaw and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Is this because of me? Are you feeling railroaded? I know I pushed and … oh god, I knew I shouldn‘t have put pressure on you. Issy, I‘m sorry-”
“Shush! Lucas, you must stop this. Yes, you were pushy but I make my own choices and I stand by them. God knows, if you hadn’t pushed then I wouldn’t have even considered it. This is all so new to me. I feel that I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster all day … well, for the last few days. I just need a little time to adjust, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? You took such a bang on the head. I’m meant to be watching over you and if anything happened, I‘d never forgive myself and-”
“Lucas! My head is fine. Well, it isn’t the bump on the head that is making me feel odd, it’s what’s going on inside. I’m not used to anyone caring for me.”
“So me caring about you is freaking you out?”
“To be honest, yes. But that’s my issue to resolve in my own time. There’s nothing you can do except give me time to adjust.”
“If I’m honest, me caring about you was freaking me out too,” he said with a little smile.
“Was?”
“Well, yeah. When I realized that I wanted you, it scared the hell out of me,” he admitted.
“But you’re not freaked out by it now?”
“No. I guess that I’m more scared of you walking out of my life now. Caring for you is instinctive. I don’t have to think about it; it just happens naturally so maybe I don’t have chance to freak out. I don’t know exactly. I just know that I’m more bothered about losing you than I am about having a relationship now. If you’d predicted this a week ago even, I would have shot you down in flames.”
“I know,” I said, dryly. “I remember. You don’t do relationships - ever!”
“Oh how pompous I was. And that just goes to prove that there is an exception to every rule. You are my exception, Issy. Only you.”
I suddenly felt claustrophobic. This was all too much, way too quickly. I felt like I needed to escape.
“Actually, I think I will have that ice-cream. Shall we take them into the dining room?”
Lucas narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously so I smiled as brightly as I could manage, whilst taking a slow deep breath and releasing slowly in an effort to remain calm.
“Get the ice-cream and two spoons from that drawer and take them into the living room. Let’s see what rubbish is on TV for half an hour and then we’ll both turn in. Okay?”
“Okay,” I almost squeaked under his watchful eye. I grabbed the ice-cream and spoons and shot out of the room, back down the hallway and into the living room. I sat and continued to take deep calming breaths until Lucas appeared with two glasses of white wine.
He placed th
e wine glasses on the coffee table and switched on the huge TV. He flicked through the channels. He then took one tub of ice-cream and a spoon and proceeded to eat his ice-cream whilst still flicking though channels. We didn’t speak but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. I took the other tub and began to eat the smooth, creamy vanilla flavored ice. It was heavenly and I was soon scraping the last of it out of the tub. I began to relax as Lucas flicked through the film channels and then onto the music channels.
He stopped on a showing of Paramore’s Unplugged set, although the volume was turned down quite low. He then took our empty tubs, placed them on the coffee table and picked up the wine glasses. He handed mine to me and then sat back, looking at me strangely.
I sipped at my wine slowly and kept my eyes on the TV until he spoke.
“Better?”
“Hmmm?” I responded vaguely.
“Are you feeling better? Less weird?” I could feel his eyes on me.
“I’m fine, thanks. This wine is gorgeous. Nice and crisp after the sweet ice-cream.”
“Well actually, I had planned on bringing out ice-cream and champagne to celebrate the successful first day of our trial period.”
“Hmmm.” I kept my eyes glued to the screen.
“But, in view of the terror in your eyes just then, in the kitchen, I thought it might be a step too far.”
“Oh.” Does nothing get past this man?
“We’ll take things at your pace, Issy. You are clearly terrified of me developing feelings for you, and I am pretty scared about what will happen at the end of the month if you haven’t developed any feelings for me. But we can’t move forward like that so we just need to relax and see where, if anywhere, this takes us. Deal?”
I could not believe how perceptive he was. I thought I’d hidden my near panic attack well but, not only had he picked up on it, he’d known how to handle it too. He could’ve tackled me head on, which would have pushed me too far and he knew it. He could’ve ignored it and cheerfully attempted to pretend that he didn’t know how close I was to a full on panic.
But, amazingly, he’d noticed but not allowed me to see and had given me the time out that I needed to calm myself. Now that I was calm, he wanted to reassure me to try to avoid me freaking out in future. For a guy who was a self confessed loner, who’d never had a relationship, he was incredibly sensitive and understanding. He was trying to take some pressure off, rather than putting more pressure on me.
I turned to face him. His eyes eagerly swept over my face and probed into the depths of my eyes, searching for an indication of my thoughts and feelings about what he’d said. I smiled reassuringly. “Deal,” I whispered.
Relief washed through his features and he reached forward, took my wineglass and placed both glasses of the coffee table. “Come here,” he said, softly.
He took me into his arms and just held me against his chest, stroking my hair gently. We sat like that, watching the end of Paramore’s set, in a reassuring silence. I found myself relaxing further and wondering what it would be like to go to a BDSM club.
“Lucas.”
“Hmmm?”
“Would you take me to your former BDSM club so that I can see what happens? What possibilities there are?”
“No, absolutely not!” His tone was firm.
“Why not?”
“Never mind that. I am not taking you there and that’s final.”
“Okay. But if I can find someone else willing to take me to one, I am going.”
He thought for a second. “We’ll talk about it another time. Don’t you dare ask anyone else to take you.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d take me.”
“Just drop it. I said we’ll talk about it another time and we will. Let me show you the things that I want to first then we’ll reconsider.”
I felt slightly mollified and the truth was, I wouldn’t want to go there with anyone but Lucas anyway.
When the program finished, Lucas used the remote to turn off the TV and then stood, with me still in his arms, and walked back to the bedroom. He kissed me softly on my forehead before setting me down. I went into the bathroom and then realized that I didn’t have a toothbrush. Oh well, I’d just have to share his.
When I wandered back into the bedroom, it was empty. I stood looking at the bed, wondering which side of the bed Lucas usually slept, unless he lay in the centre. I reasoned that he would sleep nearest the alarm clock so I got in the other side, still wearing his tee shirt. Moments later, he emerged from his dressing room wearing only a pair of clingy boxers. Oh my! Will I ever tire at looking at his fit body?
He slid into the bed next to me and turned off the lamp. “Goodnight Issy,” he said. I was stunned – no contact, no sexual advances .... nothing. Now that, I hadn’t been expecting. I lay on my back and wondered why I felt slightly rejected and affronted.
I lay awake for a while, mulling over the events of the day. I still couldn’t believe that I had agreed to a month’s trial with Lucas. Actually, I realized that Lucas had asked for a month in which to persuade me to take things further. Why was I thinking of this as a month’s trial period? We hadn’t actually discussed or agreed how this month was going to work in practice.
Was it significant that I had automatically assumed that it would be a trial period - like we were pretending to be in a relationship?
That’s pretty much how the day had worked out. I couldn’t really say how I thought about it. I knew that I had enjoyed being in his company. Enjoyed more great sex. Enjoyed him taking control. But did I want to continue the month in this way? One day at a time, Issy. Relax and see what happens – you have a cast iron get out clause at the end of the month. Stop fretting!
As I lay there, my mind consumed by doubts and questions, I heard Lucas’ breathing become gradually deeper as he sank into a seemingly peaceful sleep. He has gotten his own way today - I just hope he realizes that there is no chance of this going any further. I would be young, free and single again at the end of the month. I just hoped that we would be civil with one another at that point and beyond.
I desperately wanted to work on Mini Dakota. I hoped I just hadn’t blown any chance of seeing the job through to the end. It occurred to me then that his involvement with the boys’ band meant that there could be other complications if we couldn’t get along long term. Oh crap! Why did I have a feeling that this was going to end in disaster? What the hell have I done?
Read more of Issy and Lucas’ thrilling journey in:
Hunting Lust – Part Three of Orion the Hunter
Available from Amazon Kindle in January 2013.
