Pierced (Lucian & Lia #1)(29)
The last load of laundry has been put away, and I’m arranging ingredients for dinner when my phone rings. I see Debra’s name on the caller ID and answer quickly. I barely get out a greeting before she starts talking. “Lia, you aren’t going to believe this. Are you sitting down, honey?” She sounds worried, which in turn freaks me out; Debra is normally unflappable, so it must be bad.
“Go ahead, Deb.” I slip onto a barstool at the counter and brace myself.
“That * beat the hell out of your mother, and she has either wised up or is just trying to stick it to him. She filed charges against him for abuse, and I think they are summoning you as a witness for her. She must have told them you had seen him beat her. She probably also told them he had done the same to you.”
“Oh, my God!” Not only am I going to have to face him in the courtroom, but now everyone would know what he had done to me; everyone would see the scar, the damage. I feel sick to my stomach. Bile rises in my throat, and I literally gag on it. I hear Debra yelling my name in the background as the phone clatters to the floor. My hands cover my face as my body trembles in fear. I am so caught up in my terror I never hear the door open or the footsteps until someone touches my shoulders, causing a scream to escape from my throat.
“Lia, baby, what’s wrong?” I struggle against the hold until I recognize Lucian’s face, full of concern, looking at me. Without thinking, I launch myself from the chair and into his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, he pulls me against him, murmuring, “Shhh…baby.” Still holding me, he reaches down to pick up my phone lying near his feet. I pay little attention as he speaks briefly to Debra. I know she must be shocked to hear a man on my phone, and I absently vow to call her back later to explain.
Lucian pulls back a little to look me over, probably searching for signs of injury. Seeming satisfied that there is no blood, he gives me another moment before asking, “What’s happened to get you so upset?” Mutely, I reach for the summons and hand it to him. He skims it before looking at me in question.
“Its…it’s from my mother and stepfather. He…hurt her, and she is pressing charges.” Choking on a sob, I add, “They are going to make me testify against him, about what he did to her and me.” Lucian bites off a curse before pulling me back into his arms. After seeing my scar that morning, there is no way he can miss the fear I feel.
“I’ll give this to my lawyer tomorrow and find out what in the hell is going on, okay? I won’t let that bastard hurt you. Please believe that.” Sinking further into his strong arms, I let his words wash over me. I relax for the first time since reading the summons, feeling some of my fear lessen. This beautiful man is offering me protection; when has that ever happened to me before? Even my own mother doesn’t give a damn whether I live or die. I have no idea how she even knew my address to have me served. “Now,” he says against the crown of my head, “I’m starving; how about we go out for dinner?” I think about the clothes I’m wearing and fight the urge to ask him if there is a Burger King nearby.
His arms drop as I step back. Putting on a smile that is still forced, I say, “I was planning to fix dinner to impress my new boss. I already have everything laid out if you’ll give me half an hour.” He looks over the items I have on the counter before opening a wood panel that conceals a large wine cooler. He studies several different bottles before selecting one.
I fully expect him to go relax in the living room, so I’m pleasantly surprised when he says instead, “I’m going to go change clothes, I’ll be back to help in just a moment.” I shake myself from my staring-at-Lucian daze and pull a skillet and sauce pan out of the cabinet for the shrimp, pasta, and cream sauce. Thankfully, Rose has shown me how to make homemade Alfredo since there are no jarred sauces in Lucian’s cabinets. I have just pulled a red and green bell pepper from the refrigerator when he returns in jeans and a worn-looking Bon Jovi shirt. My mouth waters, and my body hums; Rose is right, he is a walking wet dream, and I am like an animal in heat around him. As he turns to get wine glasses, I ogle his taut ass, my hands tingling with the urge to cup his cheeks. His dark hair curls against his neckline, and I remember how it feels to have my fingers buried in its silky softness. When he is facing forward again, my eyes drop to the outline of his big cock nestled against one leg. Oh, sweet mother, my panties are wet and getting wetter. When his fingers snap in front of my eyes, I lift my eyes from his crotch. His sexy grin assures me he knows exactly what was on my mind. What is happening to me? I have never been a cock-gawker. The man has been home less than an hour, and I am staring at his package; somehow, I don’t think that is part of my job description.
He chuckles behind me as I spin around, trying to hide my embarrassment and get a grip on my libido. He puts a wine glass down next to my hand, and I mutter a sheepish, “Thanks,” before turning back to the stove.
“What can I do to help? Do these peppers need chopping?” Now, that I wasn’t expecting: Lucian offering to help with dinner. Personally, I am all for throwing the whole meal in the trash and begging him to f*ck me against the stainless steel appliances, but nowhere in the word ‘housekeeper’ does it spell slut, so I keep those thoughts to myself.
“Er…yes, that would be great. I’m making shrimp pasta, so I’m going to sauté those in olive oil before mixing them with the shrimp.” I continue explaining the entire meal to him before I realize I am rambling. He listens to me attentively, although I’m sure he couldn’t give a crap as to how long shrimp cook before they are ready.