CHAPTER FIVE
Since there's a good amount of time between when I get off work and when I have to go back to Lucian's house, I go home and change. And I change again. And I change again. It feels like I spend hours standing in front of the mirror, trying on different blouse and skirt combinations, wanting to find the perfect one to...what? This isn't a date. This is me going to meet with a client to finish up a consultation. And besides, I already decided that I don't like the guy, didn't I?
After about the sixth outfit, I sit down on my bed and sigh. Who am I kidding? I'm nervous as hell. Lucian is a complete hottie. Even though I think he's an asshole, I still want him to find me attractive. Maybe he didn't remember me the first time we met, but I'll make damn sure he remembers this time.
Eventually, I settle on a navy blue pencil skirt with a matching blouse. The blouse has a plunging neckline and a peplum waist. It shows off what little cleavage I do have but also hides my tummy. I accessorize it with nude hose and black stilettos. They're the tallest heels that I have in my closet, and this will only be the second time I've ever worn them. Usually, I prefer a smaller heel, somewhere around two inches. These are super sexy though, and they really make my calves pop.
Once I'm dressed, I spend what time I have left fidgeting in the bathroom mirror with my hair and makeup. I pull my long brown hair up into a sleek ponytail, put on some smokey eye shadow to make my green eyes stand out more, and wrap a teardrop necklace around my neck. When I'm done, I look the perfect mixture of professional and sexy, though definitely leaning more on the sexy side.
Finally, it's time to go. I grab Derrick's tablet and my purse and walk out the door, heading toward a night I'll never forget.
***
Standing in front of the door to Lucian's house is different this time. I know what to expect. I know who'll come to greet me. At least, I hope I do. If a woman opens the door, I'm going to feel awfully silly for spending so much time in front of the mirror putting myself together.
I ring the doorbell, straighten the front of my skirt, and stand there waiting. Lucian answers the door moments later wearing a black leather bomber jacket, looking every bit as delicious as he did earlier today. It takes everything in me to still the fluttering in my chest and concentrate on the task at hand.
“Good evening, Doctor Reddick. I'm Amy Underwood from Environ Designs. I'm here as you requested to continue our consultation from earlier. I hope that's alright.”
“I've been expecting you.” He smiles down at me, the type of smile that would make me drop my underwear right where I stood if I had even the slightest inkling he had sexual intentions. It's unnerving how handsome he is, how hard it is for me to focus on my job now that we're alone.
For a moment, we just stand there staring at each other. I expect him to invite me in, but since he doesn't, I have to change course. Trying not to move too awkwardly, I shift my weight to pull Derrick's tablet from my purse and press the button to bring it to life. “So, we should probably pick up where you and my partner left off.”
“Come in.” He nods into the house, stepping aside so I can enter. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I don't want to take up too much of your time.”
“Well then, I'm going to go make myself a drink, and how about you continue that picture taking you were doing earlier.” He doesn't even wait for my response. Instead, he simply closes the door and walks past me towards the kitchen, leaving me standing there alone and dumbstruck.
I want to growl and scream at him. The nerve of him being so dismissive.
Calm down, Amy. He's important. Landing him as a client is important. It will make both Tyra and Derrick very happy, and you could really use the bonus. Just do what he wants. Take the pictures. As long as he's pleased with you, maybe he'll sign a contract.
I stow the tablet away and pull out my camera instead, pressing the power button and taking long strides through the house to find where I left off. The sooner I finish taking pictures, the sooner I can get to finishing the consultation, the sooner I can get him to sign the contract, and the sooner I can leave. With that in mind, I continue past the home gym to the next room, which appears to be a small office. I stand inside and snap away, wondering why there's so much unnecessary furniture everywhere.
When I finish with the office, I walk back out into the hall to start on the next room. The door is closed, but that's never deterred me before. I remember Tyra telling us that there are two rooms that Lucian doesn't want us redecorating, but since he's made it a point to ignore me, I figure I'll just take pictures of all the rooms, and then he can tell me which ones he wants to omit later.
I wrap my hand around the handle and pull, but the door doesn't give. It must be locked. I sigh, giving the door a final look before I turn my attention back down the hall.
“That's one of the rooms I don't want redecorated,” Lucian's voice comes out of nowhere, startling me.
My hand flies up to my chest as I turn to find him standing a few feet away with a glass in his hand. The liquid inside is amber. Probably some type of expensive bourbon. That's what all the rich guys drink.
“Alright,” I reply before turning away from him to continue down the hall. I'm not sure if he's expecting me to talk to him or not, but the truth is that he makes me nervous, and I'd rather just do my job and get out of here.
The next room is a guest bedroom that might have also been used for storage. There are boxes and bags all over the place. Like the office, there are also several unnecessary pieces of furniture. It's like he's trying to fill all the space with stuff. One small step below hoarding. I feel sorry for the moving crew that's going to have to deal with this.
As I stand in the middle of the room and shoot pictures, Lucian leans against the doorway, staring at me. I can feel myself beginning to perspire knowing that his eyes are on me. This isn't the first time a client has watched me work. It's actually pretty normal for the client to follow me around. But it's never felt quite like this. While I'm trying my best to ignore him, I'm very much aware of everything he does. When he shifts his weight. The sound of ice clinking in the glass as he takes a drink.
“I feel like I've met you somewhere before,” he says finally, squinting at me.
“Nope. I've never seen you before.” I don't even bother looking at him, though I'm definitely watching him in my peripheral vision.
I just keep clicking away, more so than needed. Taking the same pictures repeatedly because I feel trapped with him standing in the doorway. The heat in the room is stifling. Or maybe it's just me. I can't tell. All I know is that it's starting to feel like I can't breathe.
“I'm pretty sure I have.” He pushes off of the doorjamb and sets his drink on top of one of the two chest of drawers in the room.
As he approaches me, I feel my heart speeding up. My mind is going wild with panicked questions. What if he remembers me from last night? What is he going to think? Is it going to ruin my chance to get him to sign a contract?
When Lucian gets to me, I stop snapping pictures and lower the camera, waiting for the memory to kick in of me lying beneath him with a blindfold over my eyes. He's standing close, invading my personal space, but I try not to let it bother me. If he recognizes me, I can't tell. His eyes scan over my face, and there's something incredibly sensual in his expression, though I could just be reading him wrong.
He reaches a hand up, and I feel every cell in my body freeze as his fingers graze over the nape of my neck. Instantly, my hormones light up like a Christmas tree, and his touch causes a shiver to roll down my spine.
He cups the back of my neck with one hand and reaches behind me with the other to remove my ponytail holder. I wince as my hair pulls, but I don't try to wiggle out of his grasp, even though I want to. When my hair is loose, he slides his fingers through it, causing it to cascade over my shoulders and frame my face.
“What are you—” I begin to ask before he leans in, grabs a fistful of my hair and brings it up to his nose to inhale deeply.
“Honeysuckle.” He lets me go, grinning as if he just solved the greatest mystery of the universe. “Didn't you go by something else last night?”
I'm absolutely horrified. Now, I'm not sure what to do. This is beyond awkward.
“This wasn't planned,” I tell him before bending down to search for my ponytail holder.
“And why should I believe you?” his voice takes a strange dark turn.
I look up, and he's glaring at me, his gorgeous blue eyes full of disapproval. My nerves are going haywire. Now that he knows who I am, I feel like an intruder in his house, like he thinks I deceived him, set up that appointment at Flesh with him so that I'd have a better chance of landing him as a client for my company. Nothing could be further from the truth though.
“I don't have a good reason. You just should.” I locate my ponytail holder and start pulling my hair up into a ponytail.
“Keep your hair down. I like it better that way.”
“Excuse me.” My hands freeze in my hair as I look at him with my eyebrow cocked.
“Did I stutter?”
A wave of rage rolls through me that I'm forced to bite back. The nerve of this guy. First, he ignores me. Then he basically accuses me of trying to lure him into a contract. And now he's bossing me around. Someone is going for the King Asshole Award.
“If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to continue with my job.” I try to step past him to leave the room, but he moves into my path, a hard wall of muscle and expensive smelling cologne. It invades my nostrils, confusing my senses.
“You called yourself something else last night. You should never lie to a Dom.”
“I was trying to remain anonymous...for professional reasons. I never got your name either, as I recall.” I stare straight forward, as if I can look through him. I can't though. All I see is the opening in his jacket where his skin-tight T-shirt is peeking through. My mind is stuck on what's underneath it. Smooth pale skin. Broad muscle. The body of a God.
“My name is Sir. It will always be Sir to you.”
The feel of his fingers on my face causes electricity to shoot down my body, zapping at my clit with tiny contractions. His touch is pure pleasure, and my eyes almost instantly go hooded as I fall under his spell. The way he's speaking to me is so dominant, yet passionate at the same time. It's the same voice he used last night when we were together. The voice that melted me and molded me into something that wasn't me. Something that was completely his.
It can't be this way though. All he has been since I came here earlier today was rude. I can't let him win me over just because I find him attractive. We're not at Flesh anymore. We're in his house, and I'm trying to secure him as a client for my company. I can't allow him to seduce me and make me forget why I'm really here.
It takes every ounce of resolve that I have, but I manage to break free from him, taking his hand in mine and stepping away. “That's not what I'm here for. This is business. Not pleasure.” I shake my head, making sure I keep my eyes down. If I look at his face, I'll be lost. The thought that he might actually want me...
I expect him to let me go, but instead, he grabs my hand and pulls me closer, causing me to gasp as my body crashes into him, my breasts pressing hard against his chest as he holds me in place. He uses his other hand to cup my chin, drawing my gaze up to meet his. My legs feel weak below me, my entire body wanting to tremble from both anticipation and fear of what's about to happen.
His eyes dance over mine with a darkness that speaks of the most erotic intentions. “When you're inside my house, Amy, it's all about my pleasure.”