Exposed: Laid Bare (Laid Bare #1)(16)

I woke to Veronica’s voice and her hands on me. She was trying to cover my bare body with a sheet. I was so sore, my muscles aching, my skin tender to the touch.

“No,” I mumbled as I pushed her—and the sheet—away.

“Come on,” she said, her tone coaxing. “Sit up a bit. Work with me here.”

I opened my eyes, but things were blurry. I was hung-over from my time with Lucien. He had ravaged me all night, and I knew I probably looked a wreck as a result. Veronica appeared exhausted, as well. Her make-up was smeared, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Still, I could only imagine how much worse I looked.

Reluctantly, I sat up and allowed her to wrap the sheet around my shoulders. My dress was on the floor, and she picked it up. “I suppose you and Lucien worked things out?”

Her tone, though light, was laced with disapproval. She raised an eyebrow when I neglected to respond, and I shrugged my shoulders. “Uh, I guess. We didn’t really talk all that much, though.”

Veronica sighed. “Dahlia…” She shook her head. “Let’s get you dressed and back to your apartment, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Though she said nothing more, I saw in Veronica’s eyes what she was thinking. My cousin thought me a fool. I’d allowed Lucien to do with me whatever he wanted, and I was again left with no answers.

Only more questions.



One thing I was certain of was that Lucien would find a way to see me again. Had he arranged to attend the New Year’s party once he found out—however that was—that I would be there? I highly suspected so.

“He’ll see me again,” I told my reflection the evening of the first day of the New Year.

I was back at my apartment, courtesy of Veronica. She’d helped me get into my dress back at the club, and then driven me home. We’d been so exhausted that we hadn’t discussed much beyond how we couldn’t wait to get some sleep.

I’d lain down immediately upon entering my bedroom, and then I’d slept for hours, dead to the world.

It was now nine in the evening. I’d eaten, but I still needed to take a shower. I was covered in dried sweat and God knew whatever else from my time with Lucien and the things we’d done.

Brushing my hair in front of the mirror above my dresser, I scanned my naked body.

There were light bruises and marks all over me from my night with Lucien. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though. Even the soreness I’d felt for so many days seemed to be dissipating, which was odd. My discomfort should have been worse today, certainly not better.

“It’s because you’re becoming his,” I whispered to my reflection. “You’re giving in to him.”

“Yes, you are,” a deep voice rang out from behind me, startling me so much that I jumped and spun around.

Shit, Lucien Chambers was in my bedroom.

“H-how did you get in here?” I stuttered in a shaky voice.

I was frightened, but I was also thrilled to see Lucien again so soon.





“Does it matter how I got in?” he asked, striding toward me. “The more apt question is: do you want me to leave?”

“Yes,” I replied, covering my naked body with my hands. “I mean no.”

He reached where I stood. I expected him to touch me, but he didn’t.

Peering down at me, Lucien—so tall and foreboding, me so weak and small—asked, “Well, which one is it, Miss Vaughn? Yes…or no?”

“Dahlia,” I whispered. “Call me by my first name.”

I was tired of formalities. We’d broken through all that crap our first night together. Or so I had thought. But the walls had been re-erected when I’d called him and he had so unkindly reminded me that we were essentially strangers. But surely all the things we’d done last night called for an intimacy beyond last names.

Lucien saw this in my eyes and read this in my head. He knew, and he said to me accordingly, “As you wish, Dahlia.”

I reached for a robe, but his strong hand caught my outstretched arm. “No,” he said curtly. “Stay as you are. You want honesty? Then keep yourself uncovered.”

Somehow I knew he meant more than my naked body. “You want my mind, as well?”

“I want all of you, Dahlia.”

“So, take all of me,” I urged.

And he did.

Lucien came at me. He picked me up and tossed me on the bed like I was a rag doll. “Oh,” I breathed out, excited by an even more aggressive version of him.

“Look at me,” he said, garnering my attention.

I watched as he took off all of his clothes, exposing his lean and sculpted body to my hungry gaze.

I wanted him so much.

Spreading my legs so he could see the effect he had on my body, I asked, “Do you do this to me?”

He stepped closer to the bed and dipped a finger between my legs. “As I told you last night, Dahlia, your reactions to me are your own.”

I fell onto my back and let him finger me. I spread my legs farther in an invitation for him to do with my body whatever he desired. But Lucien slid his fingers out of me.

“Why are you stopping?” I asked.

“I’m not,” he said as he crawled up the bed. “I’m just getting started.” He hovered over me, lowering his hips to the juncture between my thighs.