by Blue, Mel
No. He took that back. Sleeping with her wasn’t the problem. That would be fantastic. The problem was afterward. She was a great paralegal, never insubordinate, despite his many and sometimes unreasonable demands. Would he go soft on her? Would he overcompensate to make sure no one in his firm believed Courtney was getting off easy because she was getting him off?
And because she was a great paralegal, that made the problem circular. He couldn’t send her to one of the other attorneys on staff. The only solution was to curtail his own aching need for her. He did it by burying them in work and ensuring she never so much as looked at him with a non-murderous heat in her gaze.
When he glanced up, his brother leaned against his desk, his arms crossed. Henri murmured, “When are you going to the hospital?”
“I need a few hours of sleep first or I’m punching holes in walls just to keep my eyes open.”
“Okay. Call me when you decide to go. I’ll try to wrangle up our family so we can descend on the hospital like locust and find out what’s going on with Noelle. If she’s lying or trying to get money, she’ll bend with all of us there.”
Lucian said, “Not a bad plan, but I’ll try to be by in the morning. I don’t want her there when I-I first see him.”
“Done.” And then Henri said, “I know what you've said, but I’ve set up a room for you.”
Right there. That encapsulated his rocky relationship with his brother. They agreed on many things. They could go a while without butting heads. Then something, innocent on the surface, would crop up. Lucian preferred that his life happened in nothing but black and white. His brother reveled in the gray areas.
Lucian pushed back his shoulders and braced himself. “We’re not staying here.”
They held each other’s gaze. The warmth and camaraderie fell away as soon as it had come. Henri’s eyes darkened. “If that’s what you want.”
Trying and knowing he’d fail to put them back on neutral ground, Lucian explained, “If you didn’t have an event going I wouldn’t care. How can I explain to her why a couple is fucking at the buffet table?”
Henri’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “Tell her the truth?”
Lucian stuffed his hands in his pockets and balled his fists. “She didn’t sign up for it.”
Something dark and unyielding flitted in Henri’s eyes. “Courtney seems like a woman who rolls with the punches.”
Lucian’s gaze narrowed on the way Henri’s timbre had deepened. He said, “She hasn’t quit yet.”
With too much calm, Henri added, “You should probably get to her before Seraphina finds out Courtney’s life story. My manager likes to meddle.” His brother hesitated and then finally said, “I’ll leave the invitation open to both of you.”
Since the intention was to rile him, Lucian forced himself to relax in the chair before rising. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to go to the hospital. Like I said, it probably won’t be until tomorrow morning. I don’t want Noelle there. Make sure she’s not.”
Henri smirked. “If you need anything brought over to your hotel don’t hesitate to contact Seraphina.”
“Fuck you, Henri,” Lucian said again before he stalked out of his brother’s office.
He wouldn’t touch Courtney, think about her naked or wet or trembling after he’d made her come. That was his brother’s thing, not his. Lucian made sure he was nothing like his brother, always. So he wouldn’t cross that line, not ever.
CHAPTER TWO
Courtney sprawled face down into her mattress. She’d given up on finding her pj bottoms. The shirt she wore was long enough to hit mid-thigh. Good enough, especially when taking off her work wear had sapped most of her energy. Honestly, she couldn’t be bothered to even swing her feet onto the bed so they didn’t hang off the sides. She laid face down into the mattress as is.
Lucian had left her with a long to-do list to be completed yesterday, wearing an expression that kept her from asking a million questions. Seraphina had—
A knock sounded at their joint-hotel door.
She groaned into the soft, cloud-like pillow. Maybe she could ignore him. It was ten at night. Lucian had to let her sleep at some point. There were labor laws. Yeah. She was going to act like she hadn’t heard the knock.
Courtney started to fall deeper into the cloud, darkness closing in on her consciousness. The rattle of the knob jerked her up. She propped herself on the mattress with one hand. The hotel wasn’t as decadent as the Beaudelaire but it came close. The carpet had been plush beneath her bare feet. The room had acres of space between her and that door, but it didn’t feel like enough room. She narrowed her gaze on the piece of oak separating her from her boss.
He couldn’t have a key. Could he? Courtney’s senses focused on the wood. Lucian Beaudelaire would definitely have a key. His sole intent on earth was to win all his cases and make her life a living hell.
He knocked again, harder this time.
Whatever common sense or self-preservation she had disappeared. In forty hours she’d only had four hours of sleep. She’d completed her to-do list and had dealt with his pissy attitude after he met with his brother. This demand went well past her usual resolve, leaving her with none.
Courtney’s hands shook as she unlocked the door and ripped it open. “Somebody better be dead.”
Lucian leaned on his doorjamb and his brows went up at her announcement. But his gaze traveled down her bare legs. This time the flash of heat in his eyes simmered and did not disappear. Gooseflesh rose over her skin and that tingling sensation pulled at her nipples.
“I ordered dinner.” His voice was hoarse while his gaze fixed on her breasts.
Her bra was the first thing she’d taken off after stepping inside her hotel room. From the way he continued to focus on her chest, he appreciated that gesture as much as she had.
Lucian cleared his throat but his timbre still held a rasp. “I didn’t know if you had any.”
She crossed her arms. The action only made the hem of the shirt stop just shy of giving him a peep show of her crotch. “I’m too tired to eat.”
His gaze softened. Maybe not softened, because something wicked replaced the usual determination to ruin her day. He said in a coaxing tone, “Chicken Alfredo with Parmesan bread.”
Her stomach growled in protest before she could turn him down again. His lips quirked up as though he knew he’d won this round.
“Fine,” she said. “Give me a minute to find some pants.”
She closed the door on him and immediately put her hands to her breasts. She pressed down on them to get her nipples under control. “You do not want that.”
“Did you say something?” Lucian asked from behind the door.
“Nothing.” Fucking thin walls.
She went to the dresser and considered putting on a bra, a thick one, and discarded the idea. Once it came off it stayed off. That was the woman’s Newton Law of Physics. So instead, she rummaged some more in the drawers and found basketball shorts instead of her matching pj bottoms.
As dressed as she would ever be this late and this tired, Courtney opened the door to step into his room. He stood at a table near the bed, pouring wine into two glasses. She’d been too hell bent on snarling at him to have noticed his appearance.
He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, taken off his shoes and his hair was a tousled mess. She’d always thought his hair would never dare to stray out of place. Even if it did, his long, masculine fingers would tame them back.
The slacks he wore held a few more wrinkles than he would ever allow if they had planned to go into court. And there was the ass she now knew was soft but firm. Her nipples peaked again, but it was too late to go back to her room to get a thick bra to hide her reaction to him.
He glanced over his shoulder. The lines around his mouth smoothed at the sight of her. Since it wasn’t quite a smile, she should have brushed away the warmth sinking into her bones.
But that was the inherent problem. As a boss he w
as demanding, dickish and unrepentant. Lucian, the man, who joked, laughed and smiled made her heart race. Made her wish for things she damn sure shouldn’t even think about when looking at her boss. Made her feel things she fucking shouldn’t even consider.
With a gallant sweep of his hand, Lucian gestured to the chair next to his. A medium rare steak sat on his plate, which meant he’d ordered the Alfredo and bread just for her. Whatever annoyance she still held slipped through her fingers.
They may not have had deep, soul-stirring conversations about the past or her future but he knew her, knew what she liked to eat for comfort after a long day. How many hours had they spent holed up in hotels? Too many to count. It’s how she knew about the side of him that wasn’t all sharp edges and barked orders. But she couldn’t fall for another man who could dictate her future.
A stirring she refused to put a name to tightened her stomach. “Thank you for dinner, Lucian.”
“No problem.” The quiet conviction in which he spoke rocked her. “It’s been a long two days.”
A moment, like the one they had shared that morning, settled on them—tense and anticipatory. As always she did her best to ignore the frisson. She settled into the chair and noted he didn’t sit until she had.
With an inch or two of space separating them, she could only breathe in his musky aftershave. Her stomach sent up another growl. She worried it had nothing to do with physical hunger. Since she was a pro at ignoring that nagging need he inspired, she focused on the meal.
The pungent yet spicy Italian seasoning filled what was left of the air. It smelled divine and tasted even better. She demolished half her plate for the next ten minutes. He watched her with an amused smile as he took his time going through the steak. When the deep hunger had abated, she picked up her wine.
He leaned back in his chair. “Feeling better?” His accent dripped like warm honey over her.
If she added that to the four inches of space that didn’t keep his scent in check—Lucian was a double threat. If a third showed up she’d be screwed. “I’m doing much better. The food was good.”
A laugh lit in his eyes. “So…let’s talk about how one should speak to their boss.”
Dammit. He was being likeable. Courtney placed her hands on either side of her plate since she had something for this tit-for-tat game he wanted to play. “If we talk about taking an employee to an orgy.”
He jerked. “What?”
She picked up her wine, trying to look cool as a fan. “This Cab is sweeter than I’m used to, but I like it.”
“Courtney.” His voice went dangerously low.
She shivered at the hint of gruffness in his tone. “I talked to your brother’s general manager. Well, I asked her about the luau theme. She laughed, gave me some binoculars and the rest after that was kind of self-explanatory. The grounds are huge, but if you know where to look you can see some pretty interesting things.”
He gripped his fork. “What did you see?”
Confusion and curiosity got the best of Courtney after taking the binoculars, but after focusing on the gardens she saw more than one couple having sex. Seraphina had laughed at her mouth-drop shock and then helped her find more couples. “Something I definitely can’t unsee. Is that why we aren’t staying at your brother’s hotel?”
He put the fork down and closed his eyes. She kept poking at this because he’d been hard up about everything she did for a year, and his brother ran a brothel of sorts. It was such an interesting insight into the man who didn’t just stand on his principles but lived them.
He continued to sit there quietly so she added, “It’s a family tradition at that. You going into employment law kind of makes sense in light of this. Your eye has to twitch when you think about it. The potential for sexual harassment between patrons and employees… It’s all so very interesting.” She dug into her Alfredo with relish, watching Lucian’s face redden with each word she spoke. “So what were you saying before I went off on my tangent?”
He opened his eyes, shaking his head the whole while and then laughed. A flutter went through both her heart and stomach at the sound. Courtney had never thought a man’s laugh could be sexy, but Lucian’s was warm and fluid.
The lines around his mouth creased and the ones around his eyes crinkled. “I needed that,” he said.
Their gazes met. The heat was still a simmer in his brown irises. A roar whooshed in Courtney’s head, drowning out any warning bells. The dinner, the wine, his laugh had weakened her usual fortitude, and she couldn’t look away.
He reached up and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “You have dinner on your face.”
But Lucian didn’t drop his hand after wiping the remnant away. The innocent skin-to-skin connection strummed through her, tightening her lungs. The way his nostrils flared told Courtney she wasn’t alone in this maelstrom of sensation.
He looked captivated as he moved his thumb back and forth over her cheek before dragging the digit down to her neck. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her skin had never felt so soft until the rough pad of his thumb traced the hollow of her throat.
Fear kept her still—not at what he was doing, but that if she moved he might stop. So when he trailed his finger down her chest to her right nipple, Courtney didn’t allow herself to breathe.
His lids had lowered but he’d yet to break their eye contact. He was taking in her reaction to this, to him. There was no way he could miss the yearning he’d ignited with his touch. There was no way for her to miss the desire darkening his irises.
And Lucian watched his finger as he circled the bud, again and again, until finally pressing his thumb to her hardened nipple. Courtney’s moan was so soft, but it still broke the quiet.
He dropped his hand as though he’d dared to touch fire. Lucian pushed his chair back so hard it rocked for a few seconds after he straightened. In the next breath he stood a few feet away from the table and her.
Her attention dropped from his eyes to his dick. It pushed against his slacks, looking full and heavy. She balled her hands to keep from reaching forward to test the girth, to stroke him or do something equally stupid.
He was her boss. She’d easily forgotten that important fact. A flush heated her cheeks and she stood too. “I’m heading to bed.” She didn’t wait for a reply.
When she was safe on the other side of the door, Courtney made sure to lock it. Again, not from a fear of him, but of what she might do. Any obstacle she could put in her way was probably for the best. Her body continued to buzz as though his fingers were still stroking her skin.
She went to her bed and fell into the mattress face first. Never had she ever experienced something that intense. It had to be the forbidden nature, but that thought hadn’t crossed her mind until he’d stopped.
If he hadn’t?
Then maybe the ache in her pussy wouldn’t be screaming at her. She lifted enough from the bed to shove a hand into her shorts. Cupping her mound, she moaned. Yeah. If he could make her feel like that with his thumb, then she’d definitely be ache-less right now.
Courtney slipped her finger into the crease. Her clit was so swollen. Maybe if it hadn’t been she could let the recriminations and gravity of what had happened sink in.
Tomorrow she’d forget about what had transpired in his hotel room. She’d pretend like she’d gone to have dinner, teased him about his brother and that’s how the night ended. His jaw had tightened. He’d reminded her of who signed her checks. She’d left his room annoyed with him as usual.
But…she slid her finger down, catching some of the arousal weeping from her pussy and dragged it over her clit. She moaned.
That was tomorrow. Tonight she needed relief.
*****
Lucian pressed his face to the connecting door. He’d lost his fucking grip on everything. This was why he hated coming home. He forgot himself, always. He stopped being Lucian Beaudelaire, esquire, and turned into Henri’s baby brother. The one who never seemed to be enough.
So he set out to be everything his brother wasn’t. Where did that get him? Pretty fucking far, but the moment Lucian let go of the tight rein he held over himself, he’d touched Courtney. Once he had he couldn’t seem to stop. Her skin was so soft. Her sweet scent had filled his lungs and lust had widened her pupils—had practically begged him to keep going.
Lucian moved his hand to the doorknob so he could go into her room and apologize or somehow make amends for what he’d done. He needed to do something to put them back to employer and employee.
He heard the moan. Then another. Lucian closed his eyes as every muscle coiled. She was masturbating. He fisted his hands and placed them against the door. A simple barrier, one he could probably break down if he used the sexual frustration tightening his…everything, but he couldn’t.
He’d already crossed a line. Fuck he’d leapt across it and kept going. Hearing Courtney play with her pussy, not able to do it for her, would be his punishment for touching her in the first place.
The sounds of her moans grew heavier, huskier. His heartbeat pounded in his cock but he refused himself relief.
Her fingers had to be soaking by now. Was she biting her lip? Using two fingers? Three? Fuck. Fuck. He was trembling from the pain of knowing what she was doing, hearing the way she loved it. He’d give anything just to hear how wet he’d made her, to see her fingers glide over her slippery pussy lips. He’d lap it up with his mouth and tongue, just revel in the taste of her.
Her moans heightened and the frequency built until she cried out, “Lucian.”
The sound of his name on her lips hit him square in the solar plexus. He bit into his lip but the pained groan still escaped. It took a few seconds to feel the stillness on the other side of the door. Had she heard him? Fuck.