Pierced (Lucian & Lia #1)(41)
He doesn’t reply to my text. He is probably laughing his ass off over getting me so worked up, then telling me to wait three hours for relief. Insults fly from my mouth as I stomp to the shower. I can’t handle it cold, but even warm, it’s a much-needed distraction. My nipples are hard as stone as I run the soap over them lightly. I make quick work of the rest of my body; my skin is too sensitive to handle the texture of the washcloth.
When I have toweled off and dried my hair, I pull another of Lucian’s shirts from his closet and settle back against the headboard in his bed. I need to rest before Lucian comes home; I have a feeling I’ll need it. Turning on the television, I flip channels until I find Cartoon Network. There is nothing remotely stimulating about children’s television, so I should be safe. A PG-rated love scene right now would send me over the edge in five seconds flat.
Lucian
A raging hard-on digging into my zipper has become way too familiar lately. I had intended to keep things smooth and easy with Lia for a while, but that’s f*cked now. I hadn’t counted on wanting her this much. I spend too much time thinking of ways to get inside that tight little body of hers. Part of me wants to f*ck her out of my system and part of me wants to f*ck her further into my life. The one thing both parts were in agreement on was the f*cking.
If not for the damn meeting this morning I had cancelled the previous morning, I would be balls-deep in her right now, pinning her to the bed. She is an innocent, but the fire burns bright within her. She is a man’s dream come true. A woman who knows almost nothing about sex, but has the desire and instincts of a whore. She’d never be one, though; she would just make the lucky bastard in her life want to drop to his knees in gratitude.
One thing that surprises me is how much I enjoy just talking to her, being with her. The shit she finds around my house to put her hair up in is f*cking hysterical. Watching this beautiful butterfly come out of her cocoon fascinates me. I am enthralled by her and scared out of my ever-loving mind.
I had waited around for her Monday morning since she usually came by the apartment before her first class. When she didn’t show up, I assumed her schedule changed and went on to work. I texted her a couple times during the day…and nothing. I told myself she had probably forgotten her phone, but I was uneasy and not getting a damn thing done at work. At four, I had given up the battle and had Sam bring the car around. When I reached my apartment, Lia wasn’t there, nor had she been there. I’d texted and called her a dozen times before having Sam take me to her apartment. Her roommate had been standing outside of their door freaking out. She didn’t know who the hell I was but seemed relieved to have someone take charge. If she found it odd that I walked straight to Lia’s room without asking, she didn’t mention it.
The fear that Lia’s stepfather had harmed her was riding me heavily; I wanted to lose my shit just as bad as her roommate did. My heart almost stopped when I saw her small body, face down on her bed, eerily still. I stood locked in place for a moment, looking for visible signs of injury. When she shifted slightly on the bed, everyone in the room seemed to release a breath. It took me two seconds to reach her and roll her gently over. Heat emanated from her body in waves; she was f*cking burning up. Without asking, Sam brought me a cool cloth, telling me to wipe her face with it. This seemed to bring her around slightly and as I started talking, her head followed my voice. “Baby, can you hear me?”
Sam dropped his hand on my shoulder, saying, “Luc, I’m thinking she caught the flu from you. That is pretty much how you were when I got you home from the airport. She needs something for the fever and a few days in bed. Do you want me to go to the store and pick up some stuff while you get her settled?”
“I’m not leaving her here. She’s coming home with me so I can take care of her.” Sam looked surprised but learned long ago to adjust quickly. Her roommate’s mouth has dropped open at my statement, and she looks nervous.
“I…um…who are you? I mean…you’re the God, obviously, but I’m not sure if Lia should leave with you while she’s sick.”
I brushed off her concern, saying, “Lia should leave with me precisely because she’s sick. She’ll call you when she’s feeling better.” I pull out my wallet and hand her one of my business cards. “If you need anything, just call my office, and they’ll get a message to me.” Before she can object further, I lift Lia in my arms and carry her down to my car.
Over the next couple of days, I do stuff for a woman I’ve never done before; I change her clothes, sponge off her face, sit her on the toilet and hold her in place so she doesn’t fall off onto the floor. I coax medicine down her throat, and hold her in my arms when she’s burning with fever but freezing to death. Then I do it all over again…and again. There is one bonus, though: she is f*cking adorable on Nyquil. I don’t think she even remembers how she would talk ninety miles a minute and suddenly pass out in mid-sentence. I swear, one moment, she was asking me a question and before I could get the answer out, she was snoring with her mouth hanging open. One of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed.
The office is in some kind of uproar, though. After being out sick a few days myself, then staying home to be with Lia, Cindy is convinced I have some kind of terminal illness I’m not telling them about. Aidan is also calling every hour, ‘just checking in.’ Yeah, when the hell has he called that much in a twenty-four hour period? Sam is the only one who actually believes me since he has been witness to most of it. It doesn’t say much for me as a person if those closest to me can't freaking grasp that I could care about someone enough to doctor them back to health. Maybe care isn’t the right word; returning the favor might be more accurate. It is definitely less terrifying.