I Love Lacy

by Lillian Feisty

  “Miss, are you okay?”

  It was the old lady. Out of concern she’d gotten up and was following Lacy, reaching out to steady her.

  Lacy jerked away. “F-fine. I’m okay. Please just…” The floral scent accosted her and she put her fist in front of her mouth as her stomach recoiled.

  She must have looked like a drunk because she caught sight of several people’s shocked expressions. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she had to get out of that room before she passed out. She had to get away from that smell.

  “Miss! I think I should call a doctor!” The old lady wobbled after her.

  “No!” She gasped, dizzy. “Please. Stop following me.”

  Focusing on a gray door, she forced one foot in front of the other. Finally she pushed through and found herself in a small storage room.

  “Lacy! I thought I told you to stay—”

  He head swam as she stumbled toward Mason. Fuck! She was going to faint. She hated fainting.

  No.

  She leaned against a stack of boxes and took a deep breath. Mind over matter. She would not pass oust.

  Mason was immediately at her side. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

  His brown eyes were huge and full of concern. She inhaled. The eucalyptus smell was like a cure. Her head began to clear.

  “A reaction. Allergies.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gill backing away.

  He lunged toward a stack of copper pots and then tossed them onto the floor, where they landed with a shrill clatter.

  Mason spun around but it was too late. Gill had a gun, and he was pointing the weapon in their direction.

  “Fuck,” she heard Mason mutter. Then louder, “Listen, LaRouche. Don’t do anything stupid. Put the gun away.”

  “What do I have to lose? That bitch already ruined my reputation.”

  “I’ll print a retraction,” Lacy interjected. “Please, just put the gun away.” She’d do anything to keep Mason from getting hurt.

  Gill waved the weapon in her direction. Her heart was in her throat. She’d never been so scared in her life. Strange, though. No scent of fear whatsoever radiated off Mason. How odd, especially when earlier in the car he’d been so clearly afraid of her. It seemed facing down a gun was nothing in comparison.

  Now it was protection. It radiated out of his skin. Too strong. He cared too much for her safety. He would lose perspective, get hurt.

  Just then the door flung open. A busboy came in, took one look at the scene in the storeroom and hightailed it back where he came from.

  The rest happened in slow motion. She watched as Gill raised his gun and pointed it at her. A deafening shot filled the small room, and at the same time Mason was in front of her, pulling something from his sleeve. A knife. The shiny blade sailed across the room and landed in Gill’s shoulder with a soft thud. The gun dropped to the floor.

  And so did Mason.

  Lucy looked down to see red everywhere. Then the metallic odor of blood filled her nose and throat and stung her eyes.

  Mason’s blood.

  He’d taken a bullet.

  For her.

  *

  Lacy.

  Mason’s eyes popped open and he bolted up. He barely registered the fact that he was in a hospital room with his right arm in a sling. None of that mattered. All he cared about was finding her. Where was she? Was she okay? Was she injured—or worse?

  “It’s about time you woke up.”

  Relief flooded his entire body, rendering him speechless. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life as Lacy at that moment. She still wore the black dress from the night before. Her red hair was a tousled mess. Her black eye makeup was smeared.

  He wanted to hold her close, smell her chocolaty scent, taste her sweet sweet skin.

  But he couldn’t.

  He closed his eyes. The sight of her made his chest ache for all the things he couldn’t have, the happily ever fucking after.

  “Lacy—Miss Kane, why are you here?”

  “Because I couldn’t leave you here alone.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even if the smell of hospitals makes my skin crawl.”

  “You have to go.”

  She smiled that little stubborn smile of hers. “No.”

  “I don’t need you.” But his heart was screaming with need.

  His heart was stupid.

  Opening his eyes, he watched as she pulled up a chair, sat down next to the bed and took his hand. Her skin was warm and soft and he wanted to feel her everywhere.

  “What happened to you?”

  “I got shot.”

  “I know. I was there.”

  “Then what do you mean?” His voice sounded like he’d been gargling with gravel. Felt that way too.

  “What happened to you a long time ago? Why are you so scared to feel?”

  “I’m not.”

  She leaned closer. “Then how come the closer I get to you the more fear I smell?”

  “Would you stop that!”

  “No.”

  “Listen. I’m just not boyfriend material.”

  “That’s a bunch of bullshit.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “You took a bullet for me. I think that’s a pretty good sign of loyalty.”

  “I’m an ex-cop. It’s instinct.”

  “I see. So, to you I’m just a case.”

  He nodded.

  Her blue eyes had gone cold, she was closing down, shutting him out. Good. That’s what he wanted.

  “You want me to go?”

  He nodded. He glanced down the length of his body, covered in a white hospital blanket. Even if he had, just for a minute, thought about taking the chance and letting Lacy into his life, that option had been blown out of the water with a bullet from a Glock.

  Your father—he’s been shot.

  Mason glanced at his wounded arm. He’d seen enough injuries to know he’d recover just fine. He’d been lucky.

  This time.

  “I’m turning your case over to one of my partners. Obviously, my judgment has been less than acceptable regarding your stolen property.”

  She lifted her chin. “No need. I recovered my property myself.”

  He went cold all over. “What?”

  “Yes. After you were taken away in an ambulance, I was feeling dizzy. I accidentally knocked over the dessert cart and when it fell on the floor it shattered. Turns out, Gill had hidden my tiara in a chocolate cherry pie. The cops arrested him for assault with a deadly weapon—and theft.”

  He straightened the bed sheet. “Well then. I guess it’s all done now.”

  She just looked at him.

  He met her gaze. “Goodbye, Lacy.”

  She hesitated. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes, Lacy. I’m sure. Now please go.” Leave before I lose it.

  She shook her head, straightened her back and left.

  And then he was alone, just like he’d always been. Just as he always would be.

  Fucking men.

  Lacy punched the elevator button until the bell chimed and the doors opened. She stomped into the elevator and tapped her foot as she watched the floors countdown on the red LED display.

  As she’d been leaving his room one of his partners had been coming to in visit Mason. She’d yanked him back into the hallway and forced him to talk. The PI had spilled everything and now she had the skinny on Mason’s childhood. Her heart bled for the five-year old boy who’d lost his father. And it bled for the man who’d sentenced himself to a life of solitude in an attempt to avoid hurting others.

  Unfortunately his plan had backfired. His misguided attempt at protection had only resulted in the opposite effect. He thought to protect her from a broken heart and yet that’s exactly what he’d done. Broken her heart.

  But Aromatherapians were fast healers.

  Detective O’Malley seriously underestimated her if he thought she’d give up that easily. Because she had a plan and a very strong bel
ief that with hard work and persistence one can ultimately prevail.

  The elevator doors opened, depositing her into the ground floor of the hospital. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. She would not give up on Mason.

  As she crossed the lobby she had a bounce in her step and the I Love Lucy theme on her lips.

  Chapter Five

  Three Weeks Later

  “Mason O’Malley, PI.”

  “Help!” a woman said through the phone. “I’m having an emergency!”

  A bowling ball landed in his gut. Lacy. He hadn’t talked to her since that day in the hospital. He wanted to slam down the phone. He wanted to tell her he’d be there in five minutes.

  He wanted his dick to stop getting hard just from the sound of her voice.

  He’d kept waiting to forget about the quirky redhead, but thoughts of the damn woman filled his brain every waking moment of every fucking day. And then he went to sleep and dreamed about her. The whole thing was exhausting.

  He took a deep breath. It was like déjà vu. “Lacy. What’s going on?” There. He sounded halfway normal. “Has something been stolen?”

  “No. Actually, I’m having a fashion emergency.”

  “A what?”

  She gave a breathy sigh. “Yes. You see, I need help and I need it real bad.”

  “Lacy. What’s going on?”

  “Well. I have a date tonight.”

  “The fuck you do!” He looked up to see his shout had garnered the attention of his secretary. He lowered his voice. “The fuck you do.”

  “What? It isn’t as if you care, right? You told me to leave you alone.”

  “Grrr.”

  “What?”

  He picked up a pencil and began stabbing his notebook with the sharp lead tip. “What exactly do you want from me, Lacy?”

  “Well, I’m trying to decide what to wear and I need your opinion.”

  “Can’t you call a girlfriend?”

  “No. You see, I plan on getting busy tonight.”

  “What!”

  “Yes. The thing is, now that you’ve educated me on some of the more unique aspects of making love, I find myself wanting to do it some more.”

  The pencil in his hand snapped in half, sending little shards of wood into the air.

  “And since you’re such an expert, I thought I’d ask your opinion. Do you think a short plaid skirt will tell my date tonight that I’d like a spanking?”

  “Lacy…” His voice sounded like a growl.

  “Or do you think that’s too obvious? Is it okay to just come right out and ask for that sort of thing?”

  Silence. He couldn’t trust himself to speak.

  “I mean, you knew how to take control—I liked that. In fact, I loved the way you bent me over my kitchen table, the way you took charge.”

  He’d thought about that morning so many times. Usually he had his cock in his hand when he did so, stroking himself to the memory of her pale, sweet ass. Trying to remember what her voice sounded like. Trying to recall that special vanilla perfume of hers.

  The thought of another man looking knowing all those things like he did sent a wave of fury pumping through his veins.

  Her voice went low. “Because Mason?”

  He was so hard. “Yes?”

  “I have to tell you I can’t stop thinking about the way you pulled my panties down and smacked my bottom.”

  His balls tightened.

  “And I can’t stop thinking about the way you…never mind.”

  “What, Lacy?” His voice was raspy. “What can’t you stop thinking about?”

  “The way your cock felt that time in the woods. How full I was. Last night I was lying in bed and I was, well, you know.”

  He got up and kicked the door to his office shut. He slid the lock into place. He could not have this conversation with Vampira listening in.

  He pulled out his chair and fell back into the seat. He spoke through gritted teeth because he had to ask. “Did you think of me while you were masturbating?”

  “Every time.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if I can. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I was imagining that I was tied to my bed, spread wide for you. I couldn’t move at all and you had one of my homemade paraffin candles. You were dripping the hot wax all over my body. My stomach, my breasts. My nipples. The wax stung my nipples but I liked it. It made my pussy so wet.”

  “Lacy…” He unzipped his pants. He had to. He was about to come in his boxers. He wanted to pour hot wax on her, he wanted to watch her squirm for him.

  “And then you straddled me. You had your penis between my breasts and you were—”

  “Goddamn it, Lacy.”

  “Do you want to do that sometime? Do you want to tie me up? Pour hot wax on me?”

  “Yes.” He took his cock out of his boxers, palmed his erection and pumped up and down. “I fucking want to do that.”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you, Mason. Today I was sitting on a chair in my living room. My big chair. I spread my legs over the sides and I touched myself while I thought of you.”

  “What did your pussy feel like?”

  “Wet. So wet because I imagined you were on the sofa, watching me touch myself.”

  His cock jerked in his hand. He’d been releasing himself in the shower every day since he’d last seen her. But that was nothing. Just the sound of her whispery voice—he loved it, it made his skin heat, made his gut clench with want. Her voice combined with the visual she described was too much, he was going to—

  “So anyway. What should I wear for my date tonight?”

  His hand stilled on his cock. “What?”

  “Tonight. That’s why I called, remember?”

  “Lacy.” His voice was a dark warning. “You are not going on a date tonight with anyone but me.”

  “You? I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

  “I changed my fucking mind.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Now stay where you are. I’m coming over.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “Lacy. You better stay put.” His eyes shot to his door. Someone was trying to get in. He stuffed his still-hard cock back in his pants. It was painful, both physically and psychologically.

  The handle jerked again.

  “Open the door,” she whispered through the phone.

  That was strange. How did Lacy know someone was trying to get into his office?

  “Mason. Open your door.” Again the handle turned.

  He tossed the phone into the cradle, jumped to his feet and crossed the room. Yanking open the door, his heart nearly blew out of his chest.

  She was there, wearing a trench coat and a tiara. In the center of the tiara rested a huge amethyst, a striking purple contrast to the dreary office in the background.

  But Lacy glowed much brighter than the stone.

  He pulled her inside and kicked the door shut. Yanking her against him, he nuzzled her hair.

  She hugged him tightly. “You smell good. I’ve missed your smell.”

  He wanted to lift her up but his left arm was still in a sling. Instead he backed her to his big metal desk in the corner of the room. “I’ve missed you too. So much.” Then he kissed her. Soft and deep and slow. He swept the inside of her mouth with his tongue, tasted her chocolaty vanilla flavor. She tasted like home.

  After a minute she pulled away and met his gaze. “I’m not letting you go.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want you to.” He never wanted her to. Ever. Looking at her know only made him realize how empty, how miserable he’d been the past few weeks.

  She smiled that smile that made his chest ache and touched his cheek. “I’ve seen firsthand the risks of your job. I know what I’m getting into.”

  He just shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She cupped his jaw in her palm. “Just do your be
st. That’s all I ask.”

  He looked hard into her big blue eyes. “That’s all I can give.”

  “Perfect.” She tossed her bag onto his desk and then shrugged the trench coat off and threw it to the floor, revealing a familiar set of plain, purple cotton underwear. And black lace-up boots.

  It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  He leaned down to kiss her once more, but she smiled wickedly and hopped onto the desk. He watched as she reached into her bag and pulled out a few items. Matches, a long, tall candle and—

  You were dripping the hot wax all over my body. My stomach, my breasts. My nipples. Her words slammed into his head and his blood started pounding. “Lacy…”

  She held the candle just under her chin and looked up at him, grinning. “What?”

  He looked at the closed door and then back to her. “You don’t want to do that here, do you?” Lord knew he did—he wanted to do it right there, right now.

  She took a match, struck it and put the flame to the candle wax. “I’ve been waiting for you for three weeks, Mason. Imaging all the ways I wanted you to torture me. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Lacy, you’re killing me.”

  She blew out the candle, sending a sulfury puff of smoke at him. She then placed the candle on the desk next to her. Glancing at his sling, she said, “I bet you need some help taking off my bra.”

  There was no reason they needed to do this here, now. He should bundle her back into her coat and take her home. Make love to her in her bed instead of behind the closed door of his office.

  Yeah, his head knew all the things he should do.

  But three weeks was a heck of a long time and simply couldn’t wait one more minute to make love to her.

  “Take off your bra.”

  She reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. Her gaze remained on his as she slid one purple cotton strap down one arm, then the other. He loved her breasts, and his heart swelled at the thought they he would be the only man ever again to hold them—the only man who would ever again see this part of her. Ever. He wanted to lean down and take one of her nipples into his mouth, but he held back as she reached her arm out, dangling her bra from her fingertips. Leaning back a little onto the desk, she dropped the fabric onto he floor.

  “God, Lacy. I want to—”

  “Remember that fantasy I was just telling you about? The hot wax one?”