“I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. “That…hasn’t happened in a long time. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I continue to rub his back, trying to digest his words. That this has happened to him before is obvious. I wonder if this has anything to do with the scar on his neck, but I’m not brave enough to ask. “No, I was just worried about you. Would you like a glass of water?” He looks so young and vulnerable sitting here with his shoulders slumped forward that I feel something in my heart twinge. I don’t think this is some random bad dream for him. Someone hurt this man badly, and I find myself wanting to protect him, which is absurd. Just because I live with past traumas doesn’t mean everyone does. He pulls away mentally before he does physically. I see the shutters going down and the walls going up; I’m an expert at this behavior, so it’s easy for me to recognize.
“I’m fine, Lia; it was just a dream.” He makes a point of looking at the clock, which shows it’s just after midnight. He gives me a quick kiss before standing. “I really need to go, though. I have some emails to return before morning.” Instinctively, I grab my shirt from the floor, keeping my back turned away from him until I am covered. At this point, I don’t think either of us could handle any more upset tonight, and I’m in no shape to answer questions. I want him to stay, but I know he won’t; he needs space and this I understand too well to try to stop him.
He quickly dresses, and I’m pleasantly surprised when he takes my hand, pulling me behind him from the bedroom and into the living room area. There is no sign of Rose, so I assume she is either staying the night with Jake or has stopped somewhere on the way home. Lucian surprises me further when he drops my hand and quickly walks to the table to pick up our leftover pizza and drink cans. He makes short work of throwing them in the trash. “Maybe I should be the one hiring you as a housekeeper.” This surprises a laugh out of him, and I smile in return.
His hand again takes mine, and I am pulled into his arms. His kiss this time feels more as if he is giving me comfort, rather than the fire of earlier. I think he is embarrassed by what happened and wants to make sure I’m not upset, which is sweet but unnecessary. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold him tight for a moment, giving him the reassurance I feel he needs. “Goodnight, baby,” he sighs against my neck. Pulling back, he raises a questioning brow. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yep, I don’t have a class till after lunch. I can come for a few hours in the morning so you can show me around, and then I’ll be back in the afternoon.”
“What time shall I have Sam pick you up?” I’m helpless to suppress a giggle at his question. He looks for the world like someone who missed out on the joke and is running through the conversation in his head. I decide to put him out of his misery.
“I don’t think the cleaning lady typically gets chauffeured to and from work unless she is Cinderella. I have a car, and I’m driving myself. Besides, I need my car for my afternoon classes.”
Stubborn, Lucian insists. “Sam can drop you and pick you back up.” Shaking my head, I open the door and push him bodily through it.
“Don’t even think of sending your car. I’ll ignore it and drive myself anyway. Sam doesn’t want to deal with that.” I see he wants to argue but instead turns on his heels, looking like a spoiled child for a moment as he mutters under his breath and stalks off. Declaring victory in our battle will have to wait until morning; I’m not confident he won’t ignore me and send the damn car anyway.
Chapter Seven
Lia
“What’s going on with you? I thought you were going to stroke out when you ran out of here yesterday.”
In a pathetic attempt to change the subject, I ask, “So, how was dinner with Jake’s parents? Since you did the walk of shame this morning, not even an hour ago, I’m assuming it went well?”
As I suspect, she is not that easily deterred. “It was fine, but let’s get back to you. Did you really leave your job at Date Night? How did you get another job so soon? I had no idea you were even looking? What is the position? What will…”
“Whoa…take a breath, for God’s sake.” I set aside my bowl of cereal and prepare to give her enough information to satisfy her curiosity. Shit, there is no way I can tell her the truth; she just wouldn’t understand. How could she; I don’t even know what I’m doing. “Er…well, I didn’t really apply for another job. You know the date I had with the guy I sent you the picture of?”
She thinks about it for a moment before smiling. “Oh, yeah, the hot one. I couldn’t say a lot in front of Jake, but seriously, what a freaking hot piece of a wet dream.” My laugh comes out more like a snort. Rose has a way with words, and ogling men is her favorite pastime; she is like June Cleaver with a dirty mind.
In this instance, she is right on the money. Clearing my throat, I continue, “Anyway, he owns Quinn Software, and he sort of offered me a job.” About the only things true within that sentence are Quinn and job; Rose doesn’t really need to know the rest at this point.
“Shut up! You lucky bitch, I can’t believe that.” Wiggling her eyebrows she asks, “Does Mr. Wet Dream provide any extra benefits?” I feel my cheeks bloom, and I hope she assumes it’s just embarrassment and not guilt.
“Don’t get excited. I’m just his new housekeeper.” Unless I want to dress up every day to clean Lucian’s house, I have to confess to my new position. She would think it odd if I wore shorts to an office job.
“Yikes,” she visibly cringes. “Why in the world would he offer you that kind of job? You probably make more money with Date Night than sweeping some hottie’s floor.”
Feeling the need to defend Lucian, I say, “He pays really well and is willing to let me keep a flexible schedule.” The memory of Lucian’s cock pounding inside my pussy has me jerking like I’m having some sort of attack. Rose gives me a curious look before shrugging her shoulders.
“If someone is going to be grabbing your ass, it might as well be a babe.” Using her best stern tone, she adds, “I expect you to be able to answer a burning question tonight: boxers or briefs.” I catch myself at the last minute before blurting out the answer I have already discovered. Looking at my watch, I grab my purse and rush toward the door. Mr. Wet Dream is waiting, and suddenly I need to see him. Skipping the elevator, I jog down the stairs and am relieved to see Sam is nowhere in sight; maybe there’s hope for Lucian after all.
The area around Lucian’s home is busy and congested. I am absurdly grateful for the parking pass his secretary Cindy has given me. because without it, I would have been walking from a mile away. Instead, I pull in beside a sleek, black Range Rover. Obviously, it belongs to Lucian since it’s one of four spaces with his apartment number. On the other side of the Rover, there is some sort of black sports car. The man certainly likes that color. There is no sign of the Mercedes Sam drives.
There is an elevator right off the parking garage, and I use the card Cindy has given me to access the penthouse. Somehow, referring to Lucian’s home as an apartment is probably a gross understatement. When the elevator stops, I step out into a hallway with a double set of doors directly in front. A quick glance shows no other doorways, so I am reasonably sure this is the right place. A sudden case of nerves immobilizes me, and I shift uncertainly from one foot to another, trying to force myself to ring the buzzer.
When the door opens, I jump back, blinking in surprise. Holy moly, Lucian—in nothing but dress pants and a sexy grin—stands before me. I can’t take my eyes off his muscular chest and those flat nipples I licked just hours before. He clears his throat and an apology is on the tip of my tongue before I am quickly pulled in the doorway. “I was just pouring a cup of coffee; would you like one?” I manage to squeak some kind of agreement out as I follow him through a massive foyer and into a bright and airy kitchen. The space is made up of granite, stainless steel, and gleaming hardwood floors.
I jump as he brushes his front against my back, trailing his lips against my ear. “Are you hungry?”
&n
“Lia,” he breathes against my neck. His hand circles around my body, finding the snap of my shorts. In a move that speaks of years of experience, he has my shorts and panties down around my ankles and lifts me to kick them away. I shriek when my ass makes contact with the cold granite.
“Luc…What?”
“Shhh, lay back, baby.” When I hesitate, he gently puts his hand behind my head and lowers me until I am sprawled out on the icy surface. When I try to sit back up, he holds me down with one hand while pulling my hips forward with the other. I stop squirming as he puts first one, then my other leg over his shoulder and is poised with his head between my legs.
“Oh, my,” I say in amazement as his dark head descends toward my sex. My body wages a war between panic and fascination as his warm breath whispers across my wet seam. No one has ever gone down on me before, and I both want and fear it. “Luc…”
As if sensing my inner conflict, the hand on my stomach strokes me reassuringly, and I watch his head close the distance. At the first touch of his tongue against me, my hips jerk. He moves a hand to anchor me and then he is on me. He penetrates my seam, licking my full length. I moan, grabbing the edge of the counter as white-hot desire claws through me. At first, his tongue swirls and sips, causing my need to build gradually. When my hips shift, begging for him, he starts nipping and sucking my clit, working it relentlessly. By this time, my hands are buried in his thick hair, holding his tongue in place. The words and moans coming from my mouth would make a hooker proud. “That’s it, baby, let go…” he encourages as I ride his hand.
I am beyond desperate to be fucked at this point. My pride has taken a backseat to my need. If there was a vibrator in the vicinity, I would use it in front of Lucian without a second thought. He is fucking me with his fingers and his tongue, but still it isn’t enough; I want…need more. “Luc…please,” I shout, needing to end this ache inside me.
“What do you want, Lia?” he grunts as he circles my opening, denying me the full penetration I crave. I follow his hand with my hips, trying to take what I need. When he smacks one cheek sharply, I yell out, stunned. “Answer the question, and I’ll give you what you want.”
Furious and frustrated, I snap, “I want you to fuck me, okay? Is that clear enough for you?” I shove my foot against his chest, and he has the nerve to laugh before pulling me to my feet. He positions me with my hands on the counter and my feet apart. “What are…”
“Please tell me you’re on birth control. I don’t want anything between us this time.”
My mind is so addled it takes me a moment to process his question. “Yes!” I shout in excitement, “I’m still on the pill.” A blush steels over my cheeks as I imagine how that must have sounded. I had started taking the pill at Rose’s urging before I slept with Jackson. Even though it was only the once, I had continued taking them since the local health department provided them for free. I loved the fact that I barely had a period anymore on them. “Um…yeah, I am,” I add more calmly.
“Thank fuck,” he whispers against my ear. As he braces his hands on my hips, I feel the head of his cock brush my entrance. My hips jerk forward as he goes balls-deep in one hard thrust. He growls my name as I moan helplessly. This is what I’ve been wanting since the moment he opened the door. His big cock is deep, so deep in this position that he is bumping against my cervix. The discomfort just adds to the flood of sensations racing through me. With each thrust, my nipples brush against the cold granite, bringing me closer to orgasm. Lucian’s mouth burns a trail of fire down my neck as he nips and laves me. My hips meet his, eager to take every inch he has to offer. Soon I am close, and I know from his frantic movements that he is, as well. His big hand comes around, finding my slippery clit, and I clench around his cock as my orgasm explodes. He pounds hard before his cock starts twitching within me. Without his support, I would be face down on the floor. I am spent and wasted. There is no denying I’ve been fucked by Lucian Quinn; his stamp is all over me both inside and out.
He continues to move leisurely in me for a few moments as we both get our breathing under control. I whimper as he pulls out, my body sore and sensitive. A feeling of warmth washes over me as I feel his lips against my spine before he helps me turn. I am too tired to protest when he picks me up in his arms and moves through the apartment. We pass through what I assume is his bedroom and into a large bathroom. He lowers me down gently onto my feet and starts the water in the shower. I stand apprehensively, wondering if we are showering together. When he steps into the steamy, glass enclosure and extends a hand to me, I have my answer. Without thinking, I throw my shirt quickly off and follow him.
Now that the sexual fog was somewhat abated, my usual shyness is returning in full force. Stupid, I know, since the man had his head between my legs just moments ago, but things always feel different in the light of day, so to speak. As I reach for the soap, he takes it instead, creating a rich lather before starting to wash my shoulders. Neither of us speaks as he washes first my front and then his with quick efficiency. If I was expecting an encore shower session, I was out of luck; he might as well have been washing a Buick. Just the thought of that brings a smile to my face and then a giggle escapes. Lucian holds the washcloth suspended as he looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “What?” he asks, looking adorably confused.
Somehow, that just makes me laugh harder until I am leaning against the wall of the shower stall holding my sides; the whole situation is so absurd it’s hilarious. How in the world has someone such as myself ended in up Lucian’s Quinn’s shower being washed by him, after having what can only be called dirty sex on his kitchen counter? It really is too much to take in. I barely know the man, and he’s washing my hoo-ha, as Rose calls it, after just having licked it thoroughly. The sensible Lia Adams has left the building and in her place is a…tramp? Me, a tramp? That’s unreal. Most people have colon cleanings more than I have sex. Why him, though? We are worlds apart in every way, but I feel so damn comfortable with him. He is familiar, and when I’m dying to have him inside me, I just want to be with him. He begins to look worried as he continues to study me. “Sorry, I just lost it there for a minute. I…I’m just not used to someone washing me.” He smirks before grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.
“Let’s finish the job then.” I can only blame what happens next on my complete absorption in all things Lucian. As he twirls me around to face the wall, I laugh until I hear his harsh inhalation. Oh, fuck. Oh, my God, how could I have forgotten my back? As I attempt to jerk around, he holds me immobile. “What the fuck is this?” he asks too quietly. I shrink as far away from him as I can. I feel the need to apologize as if I have deceived him somehow.
“It’s just a scar,” I say instead, dropping my head in shame. Like Jackson, he won’t want me anymore. I am marked…ugly. “Please, let me go, Luc.” I hate that my voice wobbles as I beg him to release me. When instead I feel his hand softly gliding over my marred flesh, I jolt as if I can still feel the hot brand of the iron; no one has touched me there since that day.
“Lia…baby, how did you get this?” Before I can answer, he adds quietly, “It almost looks like an iron.” Whereas just a moment ago, I was laughing, I now feel tears start to flow, blending in with the water from the shower. I want to disappear, to escape the embarrassment beating down on me. How could I have forgotten? How could I have let him see my back? His grip on me has loosened as he stands looking at my back, and I take advantage of it, wrenching myself free and stumbling from the shower. I have to get away; I need to cover myself from his prying eyes. Not bothering with a towel, I try to pull my shirt on over my wet skin.
Lucian jumps out of the shower, taking in my struggle to dress in one glance. Without saying anything, he takes the shirt from my hand and wraps me instead in a fluffy bath towel. He puts another towel around his waist and then just stands, looking at me.
Picking imaginary lint from the towel, I say, “It is an iron; at least, it was.” He curses low under his breath but doesn’t move.
“Who?” he asks. Lying seems pointless; he doesn’t know me or my family, and I’m unlikely to see him again after this.
“My stepfather.” When his face goes molten and he throws his fist at the wall, I jump, stunned.
“Fucking hell!” he snarls. My teeth are chattering as I start to shake. His eyes widen as he takes in my reaction; he looks instantly contrite. He slowly approaches me, pulling me gently against his chest. “I’m sorry. Shit, I didn’t mean to scare you. That’s probably the last thing you need to see.” He works for a moment to get his breathing under control as he slowly strokes my back. “It just makes me sick to think of some bastard laying his hand on you, or any woman, for that matter. When did this happen? The scar doesn’t look recent, but it’s burned so deeply into your skin.”
“It…was five years ago. Before I left home.” In the warmth of his arms, I find myself clinging to his strength. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”
Lucian pulls back, holding me at arm’s length. “Lia, you don’t have anything to be sorry about, and I’m an asshole if I made you think that. Honey, I know I don’t have any right to ask you this, but did he…were you, fuck, did he rape you?”
“No,” I whisper. “After a while, he didn’t want me that way.” I drop my head back to his chest, soaking up the comfort he offers.
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