Chapter Three

Lia

The rest of the week is a blur of too much studying and too little sleep. On the rare occasions when I find myself in bed at a decent time, the sexy Lucian Quinn haunts my dreams. I am munching on a muffin and drinking a huge cup of coffee at the campus coffee shop when my cellphone chimes. I pull it from my backpack, figuring it’s Rose. It’s a process of elimination, really; very few people have my number and even fewer of them actually call or text.

“Did you do as you were told?”

I study my phone in confusion, not recognizing the number. Finally, I type back:

“Wrong number, buddy.”

Tossing my phone down on the table, I am surprised when it chimes again almost instantly.

“I don’t think so, Lia.”

“What the hell?” I look around as if expecting Rose to be hiding in the corner, laughing her ass off. No one seems to be paying me any attention, though, and there was no Rose nearby.

“Who is this?”

“I’m truly hurt. You’ve been on my mind for days, sweet Lia, but apparently, I haven’t been on yours.”

This is starting to get scary. Surely, Jackson isn’t playing some type of nasty trick on me. He’s an asshole, but I haven’t heard from him in months.

“Listen, whoever you are; I’m busy, so unless you want to tell me who this is, piss off.”

It isn’t in my nature to be rude, but I don’t want to encourage some weirdo.

“Wow, in just a few days, I’ve gone from being a God to you to being told to piss off. How the mighty have fallen.”

I drop my phone as if I’ve been burned. “No way.” Lucian Quinn is texting me? This has to be some kind of joke, but who else would know what he is saying? Tentatively, I type:

“Lucian?”

“Unless you’ve met another God this week.”

Oh, my God! I try not to question the excitement coursing through my veins as my phone chimes again almost immediately.

“Now, back to my earlier question. Did you do what you were told?”

“Um…I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Quinn.”

“It’s Luc…and you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I lay my head on the table. He meant it. He really wanted me to quit my job so he could…fuck me. Oh, shit on a stick. The man is officially crazy. That actually explains a lot.

“Listen, MR. QUINN, I’m flattered you want to…you know, but I have no intention of quitting my job or doing…that.”

I wait on pins and needles, both wanting and dreading his reply. What could a man like Lucian Quinn really want with an inexperienced college student? If he thinks I’m one of the Girls Gone Wild co-eds, he is sadly mistaken.

“Oh, Lia, you never challenge a man like me. I promise you; you’ll do everything I want you to do and beg for more. I’ll see you soon.”

My face flushes and desire races through my body. My nipples harden into stiff peaks as I picture the scene in my head: the beautiful Lucian Quinn fucking me. I find myself more excited at just the thought than of my entire sexual experience with Jackson. A few words from Lucian…Luc, and I’m ready to go off. Surely, he is just playing with me. Regardless though, his face is firmly etched in my mind and his name on my lips later as I finger myself frantically into release.

“Are you working tonight, chick?” Rose asks as I walk into the living room dressed in my usual escort attire. Being a poor college student doesn’t leave much room for variety. I have invested in a few outfits for my job, but the little black dress is the go-to choice.

“Yep, I’m meeting someone for a party at Valentino’s. It looks like another business thing. At least those don’t require much conversation.”

Rose flips the television channel, before asking, “Is this someone new again?” She looks disappointed when I nod. “Oh, well, I guess you couldn’t get lucky enough to have the God again, huh?”

Without understanding why, I decide not to mention Lucian’s earlier text messages to her. What’s the point, really? I doubt I’ll hear from him again. Maybe he’s some kind of weirdo that gets his kicks teasing women. A pang of disappointment pierces me at the thought of never seeing him again. How could someone I barely know have this type of effect on me? Rose reminds me to write the name of the restaurant and the person I’m meeting on the notepad in the kitchen. We started this routine on my first assignment with Date Night. Rose then joked about making it easy for the police to find my body if I don’t make it home one night. There have been a few men over the years who wanted to test the boundaries, but none who haven’t accepted the word no.

I look down at the name I write beside Valentino’s. Aidan Spencer. He sounds harmless enough. With a goodbye wave to Rose, who is now firmly engrossed in a Lifetime movie, I set off for another long evening. Do I wish it was with Lucian Quinn and not Aidan Spencer? Unequivocally, yes.

Chapter Four

Lia

Walking into Valentino’s, I look around in confusion. Aidan Spencer is supposed to be waiting at the bar. I’m grateful for that information because otherwise, I would have no hope of finding him in the crowd of people milling around. The bar is packed, but mainly with couples. Of course, he could be talking to someone. There is a dark-haired man sitting alone at one end watching football on the big-screen television above the bar. I straighten my dress and decide to try him first. Taking a deep breath, I tap him on the shoulder. “Mr. Spencer?” He takes his time sitting down the drink he is holding before swiveling around on the barstool. I jerk back in surprise, stuttering, “Luc—Lucian?” Shit, I know I sound like an idiot, but I can’t control my shock at seeing him again. Dear Lord, he’s hot.

“Lia,” he purrs as his eyes run leisurely down my length; I’m absurdly grateful I haven’t worn the same dress tonight. “You look beautiful.”

“Th—thank you,” I stammer. God, what is this man doing to me? I’ve lost the ability to carry on a simple conversation without tripping over my words. Clearing my throat, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

A smirk settles on his full lips as he answers, “I’m here for you.”

I gape at him before deciding he is teasing me. No doubt, he is meeting someone just as beautiful as he is. I refuse to let him pass the time making fun of me. “Very funny. Unless your name is Mr. Spencer, you aren’t here for me, and I’m not here for you.”