Page 17

Lia will be at my apartment tomorrow, but I find it hard to wait. All our obstacles are out of the way now, and I am out of patience. I have been forced to masturbate like a schoolboy since meeting her, and the relief I find at my own hand does not last. I’ve been hard since seeing her in those skimpy shorts and form-fitting t-shirt. While she was in my office, furious with me, I wanted nothing more than to lay her out on my desk and bury my face in her pussy. I want to feel her convulse around my tongue as it darts deep into her folds. Fucking her is secondary to the need; I have to taste her.

Looking down, I curse as my cock digs into my zipper. Have I been reduced to getting myself off before I leave my office now? The decision is made; I can’t wait until tomorrow. Tonight, Lia will get a preview of what’s to come. Tonight…I’ll know her taste, and tonight…she’ll scream.

Lia

I spend the afternoon holed up in my room, studying for a sociology test I have the next morning. Rose is going to dinner at Jake’s parents’ house tonight, so she is frantically getting ready. They are just so normal it’s hard to understand. There is little doubt she will marry Jake after they graduate, and they will have two kids, live in the suburbs, and drive a mini-van. There is nothing wrong with that. I love to think my life will be that stable at some point. Rose grew up with two loving parents, as did Jake. They will always have a support system to fall back on, whereas I only have myself. I am not bitter; what would be the point? I learned a long time ago that hoping and wishing only bring disappointment. I am in charge of my future, and it’s up to me as to where my story goes. I think of Lucian and feel I’ve made the right decision. I cannot let him take care of me, but I can work for him. What is the difference, really, between working for him versus working for Date Night but being paid by him? I would rather see him than continue to date strangers. I hear Rose yell from the other room, and I walk out to see what outfit she has decided on.

She turns around, showing me the pink cardigan set paired with a black pencil skirt. I smile knowing she is a parent’s dream come true; smart, beautiful, and so obviously well-bred. Jake’s parents will be eating out of the palm of her hand before the dessert course rolls around. “You look beautiful,” I say and mean it. I give her an impulsive hug of reassurance.

She beams at me, pleased by my compliment. “I left you the other coupon Jake had for a free pizza. You’ll just need money for the tip. Save me a piece, though, because I will probably be too nervous to eat anything tonight.”

My stomach growls at her words, and we both laugh. She grabs her sweater and walks out to meet Jake. I know he would come to the door for her, but she is too keyed up to wait. I decide to go ahead and order the pizza, knowing the place is probably crazy-busy tonight. I’m thrilled to find a repeat of Pretty Woman on television. I am dreaming of all things Richard Gere when a knock at the door startles me from the couch. Picking up my wallet, I run to open the door for the delivery guy.

My mouth hits the floor as, instead of the teenager with an ill-fitting uniform I’m expecting, there stands Lucian Quinn holding a pizza box with a grin that makes me want to knock the box away and climb him. “Where—what?” I’m making little sense as I continue to stutter.

“I ran into the delivery man in the lobby. Apparently, he thought I lived here and asked if I knew which apartment was yours. I nicely offered to bring it up for him.”

“But…I had a coupon,” I say, waving the paper Rose left.

Lucian chuckles, saying, “Save it for next time then. It’s only fair I pay since I plan to eat half of it.” When I continue to stand there, he pushes gently past me and closes the door behind him. As he walks toward the table to put the box down, I gasp. He is wearing snug-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt. I’ve never seen him so casual before, and it looks good…so damn good on him. “Do you have plates and something to drink?” Finally, the shock of seeing him wears off, and I run to the kitchen for our stash of paper plates. No doubt he is used to fine china, but that isn’t on the menu tonight.

“We have Dr. Pepper and Coke. Do you like either of these?” I yell over my shoulder. I almost jump out of my skin when arms come around me from behind, and I’m pulled firmly into a very hard body.

I moan as his tongue licks the rim of my ear. “I’ll have the Coke.” The contrast of the cold air in the refrigerator on my front and Lucian’s warm body at my back causes me to shiver. His hands climb to my breasts, feeling the hard nipples pushing against the fabric of my t-shirt. I am braless, and he moans at the discovery. “You have no fucking clue how many times I’ve thought about this body today.” He drops one hand to my belly, just touching my waistband. “These shorts are etched in my brain.” I throw my head back and whimper as his hand dips lower, touching me through the denim. His mouth is back at my ear as he says, “I’m going to fuck you tonight. Nothing is going to stop me this time.” I spread my legs further apart, ready for him to take me right there. One touch from him and I’m on fire. His hand pulls me against his cock briefly before he loosens his hold.

“Luc,” I protest, trying to follow the heat of his body with mine.

He leans closer again for a moment and grabs two, a Coke and Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator. “Bring the plates, baby, I’m starved.” I stand there looking dazed and confused until he gives me a stinging slap on the ass.

“Hey!” I protest, rubbing my hand over the tender flesh.

“Chop, chop, baby.” He laughs and takes the box to the coffee table in the living room. For tonight, at least, it appears Lucian can do casual very well. I drop the plates on the table and sit on the place he pats next to him. He opens the lid of the box, and we both inhale appreciatively. He puts two pieces of the supreme pizza on each plate, and I smile as he picks off the mushrooms before putting a piece in his mouth.

We both turn toward the television, as Julia Roberts seems to shout her trademark line from Pretty Woman, “Well, color me happy, a sofa for two.”

I burst out laughing as Lucian smirks, saying simply, “Indeed.” Lucian seems different tonight, more relaxed and carefree. I would never have imagined him sitting in my small apartment, cross-legged while eating pizza and watching Pretty Woman.

Before taking another bite of pizza, I ask him teasingly, “So, what happened to your last housekeeper? Did she flee in terror?”