Pierced (Lucian & Lia #1)(16)
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Yes, what, baby?”
“I need you,” I whimper, “to…f*ck me.” Oh, God, I can’t believe I’ve actually said that to him. At this point, though, I’d confess to anything if it meant his finger would start moving again. When it does, I want to weep with relief.
I am completely focused on the tension building inside me when the waiter suddenly appears at the end of the table. I jump in my seat, but Lucian is the picture of innocence. Unseen, he lazily removes his hand from my panties and takes the proffered wine glass. I almost die in horror when he runs the finger he has just removed from my sex against the rim of the glass before taking a drink. He licks his lip appreciatively. “That’s perfect, Jeffrey, an exquisite vintage.” The server beams his approval before filling both of our glasses. I shouldn’t be this turned on by the fact that Lucian has just spread my juices on his glass and licked them off in front of our server…but I am.
Lucian orders for us both and I anxiously wait for the waiter to leave so Lucian’s hand will return to me. Lucian, however, keeps his hands on the table, and if not for the flush still staining his cheekbones, I would think I had imagined the whole thing. “What are your plans after graduation?” he asks, surprising me. It’s suddenly clear that I’m to be left frustrated again tonight. My palm itches as I fight the urge to smack his arrogant face. It will be a cold day in Hell before he sees how much he is getting to me. I may be uncomfortably aroused, but I’m not battling a hard cock, as he no doubt is; sometimes it pays to be a woman.
I take a sip of my wine, finding it cool and refreshing. I have little experience with anything other than a bottle of Arbor Mist, but I don’t doubt this is expensive. As a general rule of thumb, if the waiter needs your approval to fill a glass, it probably has a hefty price tag. I match his neutral tone as I say, “I would like an entry-level position as a business analyst. I hope to find a company that supports continuing education so I may continue my schooling in the evening and obtain a Master’s Degree.”
Looking genuinely interested, Lucian asks, “Why a business analyst?”
“I would love to help a company remain competitive by proposing ways to improve their structure, efficiency, and profits. To have my recommendations be key in their continued development and growth. I don’t want to just work and collect a paycheck. I want to look at past problems and see what failed and why. I want to understand every facet of the business and make it stronger; find answers others have never considered. I want my ideas to make a difference… to be the difference.” Turning in my seat to face him, I ask, “You’ve done that, right, Luc? With your own company?” Lucian smiles, seemingly captivated by my passion.
Nodding, he says, “I have, Lia, and I still do every day, even though I pay a lot of people to do it for me. Analyzing a company from the bare-bones up is damned hard but the only true way to see its capabilities. When I started out, different scenarios for my company raced through my mind every waking moment. You are correct; it’s intoxicating to conceive and chart a course that works. There are so many factors to consider. At the end of the day, it’s about change, and sometimes change is the hardest thing to gather support for, even when you have a track record for success.”
He twirls the stem of his glass as if deep in thought. “Starting out, although scary as hell, was a high unlike any I’ve ever known. I had little sleep those first few years, but man, what a f*cking rush. Living on the edge will do that for you. Knowing I could succeed or lose everything just by making a decision was like betting everything on one roll of the dice.” Looking up and giving me a wry smile, he adds, “As I’ve said, though, now I have people working overtime to outthink me, so it’s unlikely Quinn could tank from just a bad judgment call on my part. I think you’d enjoy spending a day with me there, though. Maybe some field experience to prepare you for the corporate world.”
I’m thrilled by his offer; I would love nothing better than to shadow him at work one day. I Googled his company while I was supposed to be studying in the library today, and Quinn Software is at the top of its game. Lucian was mentioned as the wonder boy who invented a new kind of programming script that was quickly adapted and is now widely used as the gold standard.
The article mentioned that at twenty-nine years of age, he is one of the youngest CEOs of a Fortune 500 company. When he speaks, people listen. I am most surprised by his age. To look at him, he looks younger, but his worldly-polished image portrayed to the world makes him seem older. Just talking as we are now, he seems light-years ahead of my twenty-three years of age. It’s the power that emanates from everything he does. He is a man used to getting what he wants without asking twice. Why he has centered his attention on me when I have turned him down is intriguing. I want all that his eyes and his hands have promised me; I am lost in this beautiful man. I want more than anything to solve the puzzle of who Lucian Quinn is, because I know he is so much more than I’ve seen thus far. I realize I’ve been staring at him as he waves a hand in front of my face. “Er...sorry about that. I was just thinking about…”
Before I can finish my sentence, he says, “You were thinking about me…thinking about us…together.”
It’s useless to deny; I’m sure it’s written all over my face. “Yes.” I decide to be honest regardless of how pathetic it probably sounds. “I don’t understand why I’m here. We have nothing in common. You and I are not from the same world. You should be out with someone like Cruella.” I see his lips twitch at my nickname for Monique.