Lucian

by Bethany-Kris

  “Shhh,” Lucian soothed. “Sleep.”

  Jordyn almost laughed. Sleep would be impossible with his hand on her body. Every nerve had suddenly sizzled to life and zoned in on that one place. She was far too aware of her reactions to this man and the bubbling waves of desire pooling in her middle.

  “That’s not going to be possible,” Jordyn replied faintly.

  Lucian rubbed his hand back and forth on her hip, up the line of the cotton briefs she wore and then almost down to her knee before going back up again. “Better?”

  Sure. Now, the heat was traveling all over her damn legs and straight between her thighs instead of just staying in one spot. That didn’t mean she didn’t like it because she sure as shit did.

  “Jordyn?” Lucian prodded.

  “It’s … good,” she managed to say.

  Lucian’s hand wandered higher, edging under the hem of the too big T-shirt of his she wore. His touch was soft, but insistent, his fingers barely grazing while his palm was flat down. “Can I?”

  “Do what, exactly?”

  “Touch you,” he replied in that same frank way. “Nothing more, I promise.”

  She trusted his words, as far as that went. He was always so careful with her when helping her take care of her injuries and getting her comfortable if she was particularly sore. Most of the bandages and gauze were gone, though a few on the bad spots remained. Still, Jordyn was curious. “Tell me why.”

  “I want to explore you. The expanse of your skin All of the curves and dips. The places where you’re the softest, or the most sensitive. What will make your heart race, your toes curl, or your body tremble. What you’ll do when I touch you here,” Lucian said huskily, a finger slipping under the hem of her shirt to sweep her stomach with a teasing graze. “Or the sounds you’ll make when I kiss you while I learn you. Will they be loud and shaking, or mewled and quiet?”

  Jordyn’s breath audibly hitched. “Lucian …”

  “Like that right there,” he murmured. “My name in your mouth. Sweet and low with a little bit of air behind it. Wanting me. As if I’m the only man you need. I want to learn those sounds and what makes them … all of them.”

  “You think you can learn those things just by touching, hmm?”

  Lucian cocked a brow challengingly. “I know I can. Let me.”

  Jordyn couldn’t find it in herself to deny him, especially when she was already a pool of longing hunger at just his words alone, so she didn’t.

  Needing no further prompting, Lucian’s hand skipped under her shirt. A shiver crawled over her skin as he traced a path along the contour of her flat stomach. His touch was gentle but seeking. Faint taps of his fingers danced up her side, along the curve in her waist, and against the swell of her breast. As the tips of those exploring fingers swept over her breast a second time, his thumb rolling over her peaking nipple, Jordyn’s skin pebbled all over.

  She hadn’t quite realized it, but her breaths were stuttering again.

  “Mmm, there,” Lucian whispered. “I like that.”

  Jesus, so did Jordyn.

  “How would you sound if that was my mouth and not my fingers, sweetheart?”

  Jordyn’s eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan tumbled from her chest. Then, without warning, Lucian was moving much closer. Close enough that his warm breath washed over her cheeks and his nose was grazing hers. His hand left the confines of her shirt long enough to grasp the back of her knee and pull her leg up to hook around his hip.

  The new position allowed Jordyn to know exactly how Lucian’s body was reacting to his study of her. The hard ridge of his erection pressed to Jordyn’s stomach, a pulse in his shaft resounding straight through to her own heartbeat. Silently, Lucian went back to discovering her body. She was thoroughly entranced with his hot hands and teasing fingers.

  Up to her face, his fingers traced the landscape of her cheeks and jaw, ghosting over lax lips and fanned eyelashes. Along her back, his fingers pressed a little harder to her spine, down to the line of cotton briefs where he briefly dipped below the fabric to roll the tips of his digits to her swell of her backside.

  The noises crawling out from the back of her throat and climbing out of her lungs couldn’t be stopped. Not when he tickled the creases of her elbows, or when his mouth brushed to hers with the same innocent kiss like he gave her the first time. The almost soothing touches lulled her into a comforting daze she wasn’t expecting. At the same time, she was still hyperaware of his thick cock and the obvious desire he must have felt, never mind her own. Jordyn was so turned on she was burning hot with an ache deep in her blood and bones.

  “Sleep,” she heard Lucian order. Jordyn’s eyes finally opened again, confusion settling in her heart. She met bright hazel eyes watching her intently. While Jordyn was still sore and healing from the attack, that didn’t mean her body didn’t want this man entirely. “Just touching, I promised. I’m here, so no more nightmares. You can dream of something beautiful instead.”

  Oh, she didn’t doubt that for a moment.

  • • •

  “Hey, Skip.”

  Jordyn poked her head out around the enclave that led to the tiny kitchen. Her spot kept her well enough hidden from Lucian’s guest seeing her. He seemed to have a lot of these guests lately.

  “Morning,” Lucian replied, setting his gun to the table in plain sight.

  Turned away from her, Jordyn had a great view of the eagle wings tattooed on his upper back. He’d been quick to jump out of the shower with no questions asked when she told him someone was buzzing the apartment and had been for fifteen minutes.

  A white envelope was passed between the men, and like his gun, Lucian simply tossed it to the coffee table without giving it a second glance. Jordyn suspected there was money in that envelope. She watched a lot of cash travel through this apartment in the last couple of days.

  “Why the early payments this month? I’m not used to this, but I could get that way fast.”

  The young man grinned, shrugging. “Word got around you were in the neighborhood. Probably got some of the guys thinking you were checking up on us.”

  “Everything good, then?”

  “Fine, Skip. I’m going to need another twenty kilos by the end of the month.”

  “Talk to my brother. You’ve got his contacts. I’m not dealing with managing the product for a while.”

  “Something got you busy, Skip?” the young man asked.

  Lucian turned his cheek, giving Jordyn a view of his profile and smirk. “Something like that. Just communicate with my brother, like I said. He’ll point you to the contacts for the month from there.”

  “Anything else?” Lucian asked.

  “Nope.”

  “See you next month.”

  When the apartment door was shut and the two deadbolts were locked, Jordyn stepped out of her hiding place. “Why Skip?”

  Lucian crossed the space to grab up the envelope on the coffee table. Jordyn was right in her assumption that it held cash. He answered her while he flipped through the bills, counting how much was there. It was a lot.

  “It’s another street term for capo in our business. I prefer it to my real name, really. It keeps a distance between them and me. When they talk about me out there, it’s always what the Skip says. It’s never Lucian. Most of them don’t know who is running them above their boss, honestly. They never meet me, and instead, only hear of the Skip who will and has stepped in to clean house when needed. The unknown breeds fear. Fear breeds obedience. Obedience breeds a good crew. Therefore, I need them afraid.”

  Huh. That was kind of brilliant.

  “It was one of the first things my father taught me about being a good capo,” he finished quieter. “Gio is probably the best at it, really, and he’s more than earned being known as the Skip with his guys.”

  “And you like this?” Jordyn asked.

  “It’s in my blood. What my real father did, and what my family does. A great deal of our money comes from b
igger venues and deals, but we keep crews on the streets to remind people of where the power is coming from. Gangs might assume they’re running the show, but most of them are buying the majority of their products from families just like mine.”

  She learned a lot about Lucian Marcello over the last week and a half. If she asked, he would explain to the best of his ability. Honesty was clearly something Lucian kept in high esteem, or maybe it was just for her. Bit by bit, she was learning more about the mafia world of his. It was not the same as the MC, of that, Jordyn was most sure.

  His brothers came and went without question. Despite being rowdy, they were always respectful to her. His mother had been there twice, bringing Jordyn loads of clothes, products, and entertainment, most of which still were in the bags with tags and receipts because some of the costs frightened her.

  His adoptive father Antony, on the other hand, Jordyn had yet to meet face to face.

  “You didn’t really answer me, though. Do you like it?”

  Lucian gave a throaty laugh. “I’m not a good person, sweetheart. I like money and I don’t particularly care how it is I make it. I don’t go out of my way to do good deeds for others. This profession suits me just fine.”

  “You’ve been good to me,” Jordyn challenged.

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Why not?”

  Lucian tossed her a look that heated up Jordyn from the inside out. That’s all he needed to do, just glance at her. She learned Lucian’s eyes spoke a lot more than his mouth did, even when he was talking. Out of the three Marcello boys, it was clear he was the quietest, but likely the most dangerous.

  When he watched her, and he did it often, it was unsettling. Under his heavy stare, she thought maybe he was seeing more than he let on. The man had seen her naked, helped dress her injuries day after day, and touched her to soothe her when she fell into a panic over something mundane, but he didn’t look at her like he did any of those things, or seen her that way.

  Lucian stared at her like he wanted to. It sure as hell felt that way.

  Even if his interest in her wasn’t so blatantly written in the things he did, Jordyn was positive she would know it was there. Something was, anyway. The closer he was, the stronger it became.

  Jordyn wanted this man. That scared her for a multitude of reasons.

  It scared her even more that she didn’t want to fight it.

  “Why not?” Jordyn asked again.

  “Because, it’s just not, bella.”

  “I know what that means, Lucian,” she told him.

  “Good. I can safely assume you’re learning, then. That only benefits us both, sweetheart.”

  Jordyn didn’t quite know what to say to that, so she decided to change the subject. “I need a shower.”

  Lucian cleared his throat, scratching nervously at his neck. “Can you keep the door open?”

  “What, why?”

  “Because I don’t like the thought of having to open it again only to find you unconscious in the bathtub for any reason. At least if the door is open, I can hear you call for me, or whatever. Just … please keep it open for my peace of mind.”

  Well, how in the hell was she supposed to say no to that?

  • • •

  The Brooklyn apartment Jordyn wasn’t allowed to leave had officially been home for thirteen days.

  Standing in front of the full length mirror to take note of the progress of her injuries was like a slap in the face. It was harder to do than she thought it would be. Some of the minor bruising had turned to a pale, yellowish shade. The welts that had been particularly bad were still tender to the touch, some a reddish color, and others turning to a darkening discoloration.

  The cut on her jaw where a stud in the belt had split the skin was closed over, but not healed. It was still red and sore looking. As were the many lesions on her shoulders and back from the same culprit. She’d taken to sleeping on her side, on her uninjured arm, because it was easier than waking up stiff and tender from laying on the many wounds.

  Turning slightly, Jordyn tried to get a better look at the cherry blossoms that were inked over her shoulder and dipped a short way down her back. A bit of the tattoo was permanently damaged from the beating. Where the skin had been brutally split open and bled, the tattoo would need to be fixed. Some spots just needed a simple re-coloration, while others were worse and would demand more work.

  Lucian assured that would be the easiest, if she wanted to have it done. However, he’d made it clear the only person who would be inking up her body was someone worthy of doing just that. Apparently it wasn’t okay for just anyone to be touching her, especially for the purpose of tattooing. Jordyn wasn’t entirely sure what to make of those comments, but she wasn’t about to deny she liked the possessive undertone he didn’t bother to hide when he spoke about it.

  Jordyn also noticed that when Lucian did speak about her, him, or them in some context, he nearly always spoke as if it were them together. She wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it. The thought was just as much frightening as it was interesting.

  Frankly, she hadn’t gained the courage to outright ask Lucian what it was he wanted from her, or expected.

  It was a day by day thing. Whatever it was between them.

  The one thing Jordyn knew for sure was the fact there was something there.

  Like the way he made her so aware of everything, even of things she hadn’t considered before. How he watched her; when he didn’t speak. The comfort she found in his presence, despite knowing he was a dangerous man. When her heart picked up in his close proximity, or the warmth that seemed to keep on spreading at the most innocent of touches.

  Yeah, something all right.

  Jordyn wanted to be sure her infatuation with his man wasn’t born from a sort of hero complex her mind had created. It wasn’t such a stretch to think so, but she also knew their odd connection had started the very moment he pulled back the confessional curtain.

  Not that Jordyn minded, but the small apartment didn’t afford her much privacy from Lucian when he was awake. Rarely did he sleep, or even nap, for that matter. Even at night, Lucian prowled the apartment. She found he was as fit as he was because a great deal of his morning was spent working out. The laptop he toted around was always turned on, and he enjoyed playing jazz while he worked on whatever it was he worked on.

  The man’s mind ran on high twenty-four-seven. Lucian never stopped. He was always in perpetual motion in one way or another. How his body and mind kept up with his odd schedule, Jordyn didn’t understand. For her, being tired and weak from trying to heal, and her mind overwhelmed with worry and fear from what was yet to come, Lucian exhausted her just by watching him on a daily basis.

  So, when he’d drifted off to sleep on the couch after a visit from his youngest brother Gio, Jordyn took the chance to strip down the in bedroom and take a private inventory of what her body looked like a week after her beating behind closed doors.

  Hell, that’s what it looked like.

  Awful. Disgusting.

  How anyone could find her beautiful with these marks and bruises was laughable.

  Jordyn felt anything but beautiful.

  The lace briefs she wore were expensive, pretty and delicate. Certainly not an item you would find in a package of several at a big box store. In fact, she found these particular undergarments inside a long, white box Cecelia Marcello delivered when she brought Jordyn clothes. They came in several colors with matching brassieres. In another box of the same style with the same emblem on the top, she found another set of undergarments, only those were made of silk. The lingerie had been positioned inside the box as if they were on display and wrapped in tissue paper. The Marcello matriarch assured Jordyn she hadn’t packaged the pieces that way, but the store they were bought from did.

  Jordyn tried to refuse the obviously expensive lingerie, but arguing was useless. Cecelia made it perfectly clear the cost and what she chose to spend her money on, or who for th
at matter, wasn’t up for discussion. The woman then proceeded to say it didn’t make a difference anyway, because it was Lucian’s money that had bought these things, not hers, and Jordyn needed them.

  It wasn’t so much the lace against her skin that drew her attention as it was the bandage the panties half covered on her hip. The burn injury wasn’t healing as fast as Jordyn wanted it to, but Paulie assured her that was normal. Wounds of that magnitude took a lot longer and a great deal of attention and care before they even started to look a little bit better. The burn was a good five inches in width and four inches in length. Along with the skin Will seared off, he’d also taken Gabe’s name.

  When it was healed, the tattoo would be replaced by puckered, new, scarred skin.

  Staring at the bandage, Jordyn traced softly over the spot. She didn’t hear Lucian open the bedroom door until his voice was behind her.

  “Did you love him?” he asked.

  Jordyn released a heavy breath. “Jesus, you scared me.”

  “You closed the door. I was worried.”

  “Someday, you’re going to have to get over that. I’m not going to be in your sight all the time, Lucian. I can’t stay locked in this apartment forever, as safe as it is.”

  “But not today,” Lucian replied, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “And you didn’t answer my question. Did you love him?”

  Jordyn was acutely aware of the fact she was dressed in nothing but her undergarments, but Lucian didn’t seem to act like he noticed. Still, when she grabbed for the loose fitting T-shirt she tossed to the bed earlier, he was there at her side in a flash, holding her wrist to stop her.

  “Did you, Jordyn?”

  “Does it matter?” she asked.

  “I don’t know if it makes a difference either way,” Lucian admitted. “I’m well aware of where he is and how long he’s been that way. But I’m curious.”

  “Why are you asking, then, if it doesn’t make a difference?”

  “I want to know where he stands with you.”

  “With me,” Jordyn repeated.

  “Mmm. In here,” Lucian said, reaching up to tap her temple before moving down to point at her heart. “And here, too.”