by Sky Corgan
“You don't have to be so rough,” I grumble.
He kisses my lips, silencing any other complaints that might have come out of my mouth, not that I have any. I press my palms against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. It makes me smile, perhaps because I know that I got him all worked up. Not that I have much to brag about. I can feel my pulse through my pussy, a byproduct of his incredible sexual prowess.
“Are you satiated?” I ask.
“For now.” He tilts his head to the side, looking adorable. How I can think of him as adorable after what he just did, I don't know. But I do. Lucian definitely has his cute moments, though they're few and far between.
“You're so bad.” I lower my gaze.
“You like it that I'm bad,” he whispers into my ear.
I like that he takes what he wants from me. I don't like that he's a bad boy. And I still very much believe that he is.
“Let's get you cleaned up. I don't know about you, but I'm getting pruney.” Lucian grabs a wash cloth and squirts some of his expensive, masculine-smelling body wash onto it before he begins washing between my legs. I blush but allow it. There's something incredibly sweet about him wanting to bathe me, and I don't want to ruin the moment by protesting.
When we're both sufficiently clean, Lucian steps out of the shower first and wraps a towel around his waist. Then he holds a towel open for me. I giggle as he rubs my body down, drying me.
“I'm ticklish,” I warn, but that doesn't deter him. He knew that anyway from when we were at Fleshfest together. “Lucian Reddick, if you don't behave, I'm going to.” I pull away from him when I realize that he's purposely trying to tickle me.
“You're going to what?” He arches an eyebrow, perhaps thinking that there's not much I can do since he's blocking the door.
“I'm going to.” I take my towel off and start winding it up, not caring for once that I'm naked and imperfect.
“Give me a show,” he teases.
“No.” I snap the towel at him, landing a cracking blow to his right thigh. He yelps, his body instantly curling up to place his hand where I struck him.
“I'm so sorry.” My heart drops to the pit of my stomach from his pained cry.
“Jesus, Amy.” He takes a step away from me. “That hurt.”
“I didn't think I'd get you that hard.” I draw my hands up to my mouth, absolutely horrified by my own careless actions.
He screws his face as he rubs out the sting. Then he glances up at me wickedly. “I'm going to make you pay for that.”
“Lucian, no.” I hold up my hands in surrender.
The word no has never stopped him before though, and it doesn't work this time either. He descends on me mercilessly, wrapping me in his powerful arms so that I can't escape and giving me a noogie that makes my head burn.
“Lucian, Goddammit, you're even with me. You're even with me!” I struggle out of his grip and rub my scalp. An eye for an eye with this one.
“Come on, let's go to bed.” He motions towards the bedroom, chuckling.
I glare at him, still rubbing the top of my head as I watch him toss his towel onto the bathroom counter and walk out of the room. That ass. If I wasn't so mad at him, I might want to make grabby hands at it.
Grumbling, I follow him, waiting to see which side of the bed he crawls in on before I climb onto the other side.
“You're not actually mad at me, are you?” he asks when he notices that I'm still scowling. “You hurt me pretty bad, you know.” Lucian points at the spot on his thigh where a big, red welt has formed. I immediately forget about being upset with him and lean down to kiss it better.
As I kiss him, a familiar hunger wells up inside of me. I'm acutely aware that his dick is only a few inches away from my face. It's soft now, but I'm sure I could bring it back to life with a little bit of coaxing. Then again, my pussy is kind of sore, and I'm not sure I could handle the backlash from turning him on again. No doubt, there would be sexual consequences. Maybe some other time.
I gently pat the spot on his thigh before shimmying under the covers. Part of me still can't believe that I'm actually going to spend the night in his bed, but I don't want to over-think it. I just want to enjoy the moment—be happy that I finally cracked his hard exterior.
Lucian turns off his bedside table lamp and then scooches over until I can feel the covers between us part to make space for his body to settle against mine. His hand slides over my side, and I curl my fingers around it, drawing it up to my chest. He's so warm. So comfortable. Far more comfortable than I thought he would be, to be honest. My soft curves complement his hard muscles, molding us together perfectly.
I sigh contentedly, listening to his breathing in the darkness, still amazed at everything that has gone on. We had sex twice tonight, both times were incredible, but the first time seemed to have changed everything between us. His words echo in my head about being afraid. Does that mean he's finally opening his heart to me—that it's not all about sex anymore? I hope so, but only time will tell.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lucian is like a ninja, sneaking out of bed early in the morning without disturbing me. I don't know how he does it. Usually, I'm a light sleeper, but this is the second time that I've fallen asleep in a bed with him only to wake up alone.
So much for waking up in his arms.
There's a familiar scent of food wafting in from the kitchen. I lazily pull myself out of bed, not wanting to get dressed but feeling like I have no other choice. My self-confidence faded with the rising sun, and I'm not about to walk into the kitchen naked.
I soak in the delicious soreness between my legs and the smell of Lucian all over me as I dress. The scent of his bodywash clings to my skin, making me feel oddly comforted. Maybe everything we did last night wasn't a dream. Perhaps he really is a changed man. That's wishful thinking though. The best I can hope for is a happy middle-ground. I can take the kink—the blindfolds and restraints—if he'll just stop trying to dominate me completely and then push me away afterward.
I make the bed after I finish getting dressed, a small token to show my affection for him, then I go into the bathroom to brush the tangles out of my hair before finally following my nose to the kitchen. Lucian isn't in the kitchen though. He's in the living room watching the news.
“Hi,” I greet him as I walk into the room.
“Hey.” He beams at me, looking as attractive as always in nothing but black sweatpants. “I made breakfast.”
“I know you did.”
He stands to lead me into the dining room where he seats me before going to retrieve our food. Eggs Benedict is on the menu this morning. It looks fabulous and tastes twice as good as it looks. The man can definitely cook.
“A woman could fall in love with your cooking,” I moan after taking a bite.
“Hopefully, a woman could fall in love with more than that.” He grins at me over his fork, which causes me to blush and avert my eyes. Does he actually want me to fall in love with him? He's sure making it sound like it.
“I need to go after this. I need to get back to my apartment and change for work,” I sigh, wishing it was the weekend so that I could stay with him. We both have work though. It's best if I leave as soon as possible so that I don't interrupt his morning routine too much.
“Tell them you're coming in late.” He gestures at me with his fork before picking up his glass of orange juice and gulping it down.
“Don't you have to work today?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Today is a rare day.” His eyes widen for effect. “My first patient isn't scheduled for surgery until 11am.”
I smirk. Somehow, I always seem to forget that he's a famous plastic surgeon. He pretty much never talks about work.
“Being a surgeon must be interesting.”
“It is.” He nods. “Sometimes.”
“I bet you see a lot of crazy things.”
“None that I can talk about. Patient confidentiality and all.” His expression sugges
ts that he'd like to talk about some of it.
“Well, I, unfortunately, don't have the luxury of only coming in whenever we have clients.” I screw my face.
“I'm a client.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Just tell them I asked you to come over. They'll understand. After all, I'm a big deal for your company, right?” He looks utterly mischievous, and I can't help but smile.
“I suppose so,” I let out a short laugh before digging in my purse for my phone to leave Tyra a voice-mail. When I'm done, I drop my phone back into my purse and glance up at Lucian. “You're going to have to call her and let her know too. While she trusts me, I doubt she'll take my word alone.”
“Give me your phone.” He rests his arm on the table and opens his hand.
“Call her on your own phone.” I purse my lips.
“What, you don't want her to think we're sleeping together?” he teases.
The answer is no. I'm not sure what Tyra would think if she knew that I was having sex with Lucian. Maybe she wouldn't care. After all, she did want me to do whatever it took to land him as a client. I did that. Then my life became a mess. Hopefully, things are smoothing out now.
“Call her on your own phone.” I squint and quirk my head to the side, showing him that I'm not feeling very playful.
“Fine.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “After we eat, though.”
“Of course.” I nod, scrapping up my last bite of Eggs Benedict with my fork.
“You wanted to know about this house.” Lucian's gaze dances over the walls.
It's a strange thing for him to bring up right now, but I am curious. “Yeah.”
“I think I told you it belonged to my parents.”
“You did.”
“I inherited it from them after they died.”
I cock my head back, not wanting to ask the obvious question. He's too young for both of his parents to be dead.
“They died in a car crash. As luck would have it, they died the same year that my wife and son died. Only two months after.” He stabs at the broken yolk left on his plate as if he can actually take a bite of it.
“That's horrible.” My expression instantly turns sympathetic. I'm not sure why he's sharing this with me, but I'm glad that he is. It makes me feel closer to him.
“I moved in here last year.” Lucian sets his fork down and looks everywhere but at my face. I can hear the emotion in his voice, like he's trying desperately to push it back. “I haven't had the heart to change anything in here until now.”
“That's understandable. You went through a lot of traumas. I can't even imagine what it must have been like.” I want to reach across the table and touch his hand, but he looks far too breakable. The air in the room is thick and heavy. I'm not really sure what to say or do to make things better for him.
“Be glad. It's hard losing everyone you love in short proximity.” He furrows his brow at his plate as if it's the enemy.
“I really,” I stutter. “I really wish there was something I could do to help.
He wipes his mouth with his napkin before resting it on his lap and turning to look into the house. “There's nothing that anyone can do. No mortal action can bring them back. That's the thing about death. Once it happens, it happens. You don't get to come back, and everyone that's left behind...Well, they have to deal with it.” He stands and grabs our plates to take them to the kitchen. I think about following, but don't. Maybe he just needs a moment alone to regroup himself.
While he's away, I stand and push my chair in before walking around the house to look at everything that I once thought was just random clutter and junk. These are all his parents' things. It's almost heart-wrenching to think that he's surrounded himself with them for so long, refusing to change anything inside the house, even though it seems to be in disarray.
“What are you doing in here?” Lucian asks when he catches me walking around the office.
I smile softly at him, my hand tracing a ballerina trinket on one of the bookshelves. It's the first time I've taken notice that every room in the house has a woman's touch to it, even rooms like this that typically wouldn't. “I was just trying to get a better feel for who your parents were.”
This seems to please him though I can't help but feel like he doesn't trust me, especially after I turned over the pictures in his bedroom.
“Come on. Let's go watch the news.” He nods towards the living room.
“The news?” I wrinkle my nose at him. It's definitely not the most entertaining thing, and honestly not how I pictured us spending the morning together.
“Amy.” He grins. “It's important to know what's going on in the world. It's especially important to know what's going on locally.”
“If you say so.” I pout, following him out of the room.
For the remainder of the morning, we sit together cuddled up on the couch watching television. It's strangely normal. I think I spend more time looking at Lucian out of my peripheral vision than actually paying attention to what's on the dumb tube, though I have been able to gather from his channel preferences that he's very much into the news, the weather, and history.
By the time he has to start getting ready for work, we're finishing up a documentary on the Pyramids of Giza. I hadn't realized I was starting to fall asleep again until he pulls his arm from around my shoulder. Lazily, I stretch and watch him turn the television off.
“Well, it's about that time,” he says with a sigh.
“Alright.” I stand and allow him to lead me to the door. “I had a wonderful night,” I tell him as I turn on his doorstep to say my goodbyes.
“Me too.” He flashes me that charming smile that I've fallen for time and time again.
“I guess I'll see you later.” I lift my hand to wave awkwardly at him, but he catches my wrist, pulling me toward him until our bodies crash together.
I don't even have time to recover before his lips find mine and he's stealing my breath. There's the slightest taste of coffee on his tongue, and it makes me want to grin. I place my hands on his broad chest, leaning into the kiss, secretly hoping he'll pull me back inside for one final romp between the sheets. Even though I'm horribly late for work—even though I know it would make him late—I don't care. I just want to be with him. I don't want the amazing time I've had to end because I'm afraid that as soon as I drive away, things will return to the way they were.
I can feel Lucian disengaging from me, and I greedily follow him, my lips still reaching for him even after he's broken free from the kiss. I open my eyes and blush, then instantly turn away and practically jog down the path leading to his driveway.
“Bye,” I say over my shoulder.
“Bye.” His voice is filled with amusement and trails off into a chuckle that makes my cheeks burn even more.
It was such a desperate kiss on my end. I shouldn't have done that.
When I climb into my car, I sit there for several moments staring back at the house. I'm trying to savor the memory, to stamp it firmly into my mind to give myself hope that he might have meant everything he did and said. Only time will tell though.
Now that the dream is over, I have reality to face. Lucian never called Tyra to tell her that I would be coming in late. My body tenses at that realization, and I briefly think about going back to his front door to remind him. I'm still embarrassed from the kiss though, so I decide to text him instead.
It's an extra worry that I don't need, but one that I'm not too horribly concerned about. What I am worried about though is facing Derrick. He's going to be so disappointed in me and hurt. Perhaps I'll break it to him gently. Or maybe it would be better just to avoid the subject for a while. The last thing I want him to know is that I spent the night with Lucian.
With a sigh, I tell myself that everything will work out before I put the car in drive and head back to my apartment. Even if I sometimes don't believe that things will work out, they always do somehow. This will be no different. At least, that's what I t
hought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ever since leaving Lucian's house, all I've been able to think about is what everything that happened means for us. We made love and I slept in his arms and he confessed so many personal things. Then he cooked me breakfast this morning and we cuddled in his living room like a couple. Does that mean we're dating now? Am I in a relationship with him? I desperately want to know the answer, but it's way too impersonal to ask over text, and I don't want to seem naive. I'll have to find out some other way, though I have no idea how.
It's not until I pull up in front of Environ Design that I realize there are more important things to think about. Lucian hasn't sent me a text back to confirm that he spoke to Tyra. Even if he didn't though, I very rarely come in late, and at least I let her know. I shouldn't get in too much trouble for it.
I walk through the glass double doors, and instead of going straight to my desk, I head to Tyra's office. By some miracle, she's actually in there though she's on the phone. When I open my mouth to speak, she holds up her hand to silence me. Briefly, I think about just coming back later, but then I decide to wait. I'd rather talk to her privately about being at Lucian's house early this morning than wait for her to come to my desk where Derrick might be able to hear our conversation.
My nervousness increases as the minutes tick by. Tyra's expression—happy before I entered the room—flattens into something serious and deadpan. She's annoyed that I'm still standing there, and I know I'm pressing my luck. I already came in late. The last thing I want to do is piss her off more than I probably already have.
Finally, she starts to say her goodbyes. I feel a rush of relief wash over me, but it's cut short as I catch a glimpse of Derrick in my peripheral vision coming into Tyra's office. A hard lump rockets to my throat, choking out any words I might have said to Tyra about being with Lucian this morning.
“Hey ladies, I just wanted to come see if there was anything new about the Reddick project I should know about.” Derrick stops right beside me, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking completely nonchalant.
