Chapter Six
Lia
I’ve been back in school for almost a month now. Up until this morning, I hadn’t had any pregnancy symptoms. I shudder as I remember waking abruptly from a sound sleep with the certainty that I was going to be sick. I had stumbled from the bed, clamping a hand over my mouth as I raced for the bathroom. I had barely bent over when the contents of my stomach had erupted forth. I had been too sick to care when Lucian ran in, looking shocked to see me slumped against the wall, only inches from the toilet. “Sick,” I mumbled before crawling forward to heave once again. He’d held my hair and supported my body until I had finally finished. Then he’d carried me to and placed me gently on the bathroom counter, where he cleaned my face and helped me brush my teeth.
When back in the bed, I rub his arms soothingly, feeling bad that I’ve woken him. He has been off the cocaine for well over a month now. His aunt and an addiction specialist she’d recommended have been helping him. The first few weeks had been really bad, even though he tried not to show how much he was struggling. It was impossible to hide his agitation though. His temper would flare over simple things such as burning the toast. Then he would apologize profusely even as I assured him that I didn’t take it personally. He’d also been having problems sleeping and his nightmares were back—worse than ever. The only amusing thing had been his new snack habit. He joked he was eating his way through my first trimester. For someone who had quite obviously spent a lot of time maintaining his perfect body, it was surprising to see him sit down with a bag of Doritos and eat most of them. To offset the snacking, he had taken to running in the morning before work, along with his usual rigorous workout routine.
I worry about him, but his aunt assures me he is doing well. I try not to mention the baby too much because I’m afraid of adding more stress to his life. Unfortunately, after my bout of morning sickness, there is no way to avoid it. As if thinking the same thing, he asks, “Is this the first time you’ve been sick or have there been others?”
I turn in his arms until I can see the outline of his face in the still dark room. Tracing the stubble on his cheek I say, “It would have been kind of hard to hide that, wouldn’t it?”
“I meant at school,” he answers softly as he tangles his hand in my hair. “I know I’ve been dealing with my own issues lately, but I’m here, baby. You don’t have to shield me from anything.”
“I know,” I assure him, and it’s true. Even with what’s he’s dealing with, I know I’m still his priority. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to make things easier for him if I can.
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” he surprises me by asking. I tell him that I love him every day—usually more than once and he always reciprocates—but it’s unusual that he says it first so I treasure his words.
“As much as I love you, I hope.” He surprises me further by pulling back slightly and dropping his hand to my flat stomach.
“I’m sorry I’ve left you alone to deal with everything for the last month. Have you been feeling good? Is there anything I need to know?”
I place my hand over his and squeeze. “Luc, I’m fine. Truthfully, other than whatever that was that just happened, I haven’t felt any different. Maybe a little more tired than usual, but that’s it. Oh, and the sore boobs,” I say fast, hoping he’ll miss it. I should have known better though.
“Sore boobs?” he asks, sounding intrigued. Of course, anything to do with my breasts would get his immediate attention.
Trying to sound matter-of-fact, I say, “Apparently it’s normal that my…nipples are extra…sensitive.”
“Tell me more…” From the feel of his hardening length against me, our discussion has him completely focused.
“Lucian, really?” I ask, in mock irritation. “You’re excited by this?”
“Fuck yeah,” he answers enthusiastically. He reaches up and gently cups one mound through the T-shirt I’m wearing and flicks the nipple. I almost come out of my skin as sensation shoots through the peak. “Damn, you weren’t kidding, were you?” he murmurs huskily. When he slides his hand down to tug my shirt up, and then over my head, I shiver in anticipation. We haven’t had sex as frequently as normal since he’s been detoxing. The fact I just threw up moments ago doesn’t seem to matter. My body knows its master.
“Luc…I want you,” I moan, thrashing restlessly. “I can’t wait…I need you now.”
I should have known that despite my pleas, he couldn’t resist teasing my nipples. With my shirt out of the way, his hot mouth descends to lick and suck me to the point of madness. Both he and I are shocked when I come from just his mouth on my breast. That’s never happened to me before without him touching me between my legs at the same time. He sits back on his haunches and quirks a brow at me. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, baby. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off your magic tits.”
I start laughing before snapping, “Shut up, take your boxers off, and fuck me—right now!” He looks stunned at my demand and then hastens to do as I’ve demanded. I’ve never seen him remove his underwear so fast. He doesn’t stop to see if I’m ready for him, which is unusual. We’re both too far gone for that. He lines his hard cock up at my entrance and fills me in one strong thrust. “Oh, God!” I shout, feeling my body frantically attempt to accommodate his size. “Luc…more!” That’s all the encouragement he needs. It’s hard, fast, and dirty. Sometimes we make love, but other times we fuck, and that’s what this is. No-holds-barred fucking and I love it. I can do nothing but hang on for the ride as he stamps his ownership upon every inch of my body. His hips swivel and his cock drags against my clit on each thrust. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, I’m coming again—and again. One wave of pleasure blends into another. By the time he explodes inside of me, I’m as limp as a dishrag. At times like these, I understand why women such as Monique couldn’t bear to let him go. He’s the total dream package: A handsome, sexy, successful man with a big dick who fucks like a stallion. I’m grateful he can’t see the blush I feel heating up my face. It’s a testament to his skill in bed that I can have such dirty thoughts about him. He often remarks that he feels lucky to have found me—which seems strange since I’m constantly amazed that such a gorgeous man looks at me each day as if I hung the moon.
“You’re going to kill me one day,” he grunts next to me. He finds the energy to tweak one of my nipples and laughs in delight as I shiver. He has a new favorite plaything, and in true Lucian style, he’ll dedicate himself to exploring it fully.
“Hands off the merchandise, Mr. Quinn,” I scold as I push him away. “I have school in a few hours and I don’t want to have pokies showing through my top.” He seems to find my grumbling hilarious and I can’t hold back my smile. I love seeing him happy and more like himself this morning. I find myself unexpectedly weepy as I blurt out, “I’m so proud of you.”
“I was that good?” he jokes. Obviously…sex is still on his brain.
To my horror, I begin crying, causing him to stiffen as he hears a sob. “Lia, baby, what’s going on?” He sits up abruptly, flipping on a bedside lamp. “Did I hurt you?” He looks frantic now, all traces of humor gone. His hands are running over my body as if seeking an injury.
“No…no, I’m fine,” I try to assure him. “I have no idea why I’m doing this. I was just so happy you were laughing, and then I started thinking about how proud I am that you’re getting clean, and going through so much for me and the baby.” I’m a full-on bawling mess now and Lucian looks helpless and bewildered. I sit up and climb into his lap, wrapping my arms around him. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
His arms close around me and he softly strokes my back. Finally, he says, “I think it’s the hormones. All of the pregnancy symptoms seem to be hitting you at once. You were sick this morning, now the crying and the sore breasts. You’re pregnant and your body is letting you know.”
“Really?” I look up at him in dismay. “You don’t think I’m going to be like this all the time now, do you? I hate crying.”
He looks as if he’s doing his best to stifle a grin as he keeps a straight face. “I don’t know, baby, maybe we can ask the doctor about that. Your first appointment is coming up soon.”
“Is it getting any easier?” I ask him, and then wonder if he’ll even know what I’m talking about.
He studies me for a moment, wiping the moisture from my cheek. “Yes, it’s better. I’m not going to lie, I’m still struggling, but the medicine I finally agreed to try is helping with the cravings. The last few days have been somewhat easier. I don’t feel as if I’m about to crawl out of my skin or explode and lash out at whoever is unlucky enough to be near.” Wincing, he adds, “I’m probably going to owe everyone at the office a big raise after this.”
“I’m sure they understand, Lucian. They are probably as proud of you as I am.”
“Only Sam and Aidan know,” he admits. “Cindy has no idea, or at least I hope she doesn’t. She’d probably have beaten my ass by now if she did. I’m quite sure Sam wants to keep it that way, too.”
“Why would Sam care if Cindy knew?” I ask. Maybe he thinks she’ll be upset with Lucian and wants to protect him.
Lucian studies me for a moment, looking as if he’s carefully weighing his answer before he runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’ve told you I don’t want secrets between us, but I ask that you not mention this to anyone. It could cause problems if it got back to the wrong people.” When I nod my agreement, he says, “Sam is the one that got me the coke. He has a family connection that deals with a bit of everything.” He holds up my hand when my expression turns angry. I’m ready to explode. I can’t understand how someone who seems to love Lucian so much could do something so detrimental to his health. “I asked Sam to do it. He argued with me and actually quit. When he found out that I’d gotten it from someone else, he was resigned. He said he would rather know where it was coming from than have me getting it from someone off the street. I won’t go into the rest of the conversation, but just understand that he knew I was going to do it no matter what he said and it was the only way he felt he could protect me.”
I give him a skeptical look, still trying to process his explanation. In a way, I understand what he’s saying, but it still makes me feel that Sam has enabled him all these years. Had he or Aidan ever considered an intervention or some tough love? Then it hits me that I sat in his office when I caught him doing a line and didn’t try to stop him. Heck, I’d understood even. Hello, pot—meet kettle. Lucian had decided to quit and followed through completely on his own. I hadn’t pushed him or issued any ultimatums even though I was worried about him. I couldn’t throw stones at his friends when I, the woman who professed to love him, hadn’t taken action either. I had counted on Lucian to be strong enough to overcome it eventually, and quite possibly, they had as well. “I see what you’re saying,” I concede. “You know I won’t say anything.”
“And you won’t do Sam any bodily harm, correct?” His smirk tells me he knows the thoughts that have been rushing through my head.
“No, I won’t hurt him,” I grumble. “But he better not do anything else to hurt you or all bets are off. I’ll be all over him.” I’m even impressed I manage to deliver my threats in something close to a growl. I mean every word of it, too.
“Is it wrong that I’m completely turned on by this forceful side of you?” Lucian chuckles as he nuzzles against me.
“When aren’t you turned on?” I joke, and then quickly squirm as his hand circles my breast.
“Stop that!” I smack his hand away. “You can’t just grab my magic boobies anytime the urge hits.” I reach my hand out and circle one of his dark orbs. I smile when it stiffens immediately. He shakes his head, looking vastly amused.
“It’s okay for me, baby, but it’s not a direct link to my below the belt areas like it is yours.”
“Really?” I roll my lip out in an elaborate pout. “That’s not fair. You seem to like it when I use my teeth though.”
Wiggling his brows, he smirks. “That’s completely different. Having you go all animalistic is always a turn-on.” When he begins trying to maneuver me underneath him, I laughingly push away.
“I’ve got to shower and get ready for school, Mr. Quinn. I’m afraid you’re on your own…for now.”
“I could join you in the shower. It would conserve water,” he offers innocently. Oh God, I love the relaxed, mischievous expression on his face. It’s been missing for too long as he’s fought his addiction. He is so much more to me than just the man I love. He is all-consuming—my everything.
Why me? He is the gift God bestowed upon me in atonement for the horrors I endured.
I reluctantly leave the bed, with him still holding one of my hands. “It’s wonderful that you’re thinking of the environment, but I think we both know how long a joint shower usually lasts.” I drop a kiss on his upturned mouth before saying, “Rest for a few more minutes. I’ll wake you when I’m finished.” He gives my hand a squeeze before rolling over and stretching his beautiful body. I realize I’m still standing in the same spot, staring at his exposed skin like some kind of pervert. I lick my lips before walking slowly away. I wonder if it’s too late to reconsider that shower offer.
Lia
“I hate this class,” Rose grumbles next to me as the professor of our psychology class continues to speak in the same monotone voice. I have to agree that this isn’t my moment of the day either. I’ve been fortunate to have mostly professors that make learning interesting and interactive—but not Dr. Jenkins. “The man needs to kill the bow tie and tweed—then get laid. I bet you fifty bucks that there’s not a Mrs. Jenkins. If there ever was, she probably died of boredom years ago.” I try to shush her before I start laughing. Since the classroom is so quiet, everyone near us can probably hear Rose’s comments, but of course, she doesn’t care. “How’s little Quinn doing today?”
I start choking, drawing the attention of the entire class, including Mr. Jenkins. “Ms. Adams, do you need some water?”
“Um, no,” I finally manage to say and am relieved when everyone turns back to the front of the classroom.
Undeterred, Rose snorts before saying, “I meant the baby, but I’m glad to know that little Quinn came out to play this morning.” I raise my book up high, trying to block her out while I regain my composure. There was no way I could keep the news of my pregnancy from my best friend. Her calm acceptance and excitement have gone far toward helping me relax as well.
Lowering my book, I surprise myself by whispering, “There’s nothing little about it…”
She gives me a lavish smile while making a perverted up-and-down hand gesture. I quickly glance toward Mr. Jenkins to make sure he’s not paying any attention to us. There is no way I want him asking for an explanation of our conversation. “You go, girl. I’m so horny, I’d settle for anyone at this point.” The guy in front of her turns all the way around in his seat. She winks at him before motioning for him to look away.
“What about Max?” I whisper, as I attempt to follow Mr. Jenkins’s lecture enough to jot down some notes.
“He’s all show and no go at this point. We seemed to be getting close, but now he’s not returning my calls or texts. Plus the parental troops are exerting their influence on my personal life again.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about and I have a feeling this is going to require more talking than we can get by with right now. “Let’s have coffee after class, okay?”
“Sounds good,” she whispers back. The poor guy in front of her keeps looking back as if trying to catch her eye. No doubt, he’s still riveted by her horny plight and willing to do whatever he can to help her out. Men are drawn to Rose. Her demure outer appearance coupled with the inner wild child just seems to shine through no matter how many cardigan sets she wears.
I’m close to drifting off before the class finally ends. Heck, maybe I did for a moment because the sound of chairs scraping across the floor jerks me to attention. I blink rapidly, looking around as the room empties. Rose’s fingers are a blur as she types on her phone before dropping it into her Michael Kors purse. No Wal-Mart bag for her. Actually, I think the one I’m carrying came from Target. “Are you ready?” I yawn as I get to my feet.
She stabs at her phone screen with enough force to crack it before saying absently, “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” She seems preoccupied and answers all of my questions in monotone until we’re settled at a corner table with our lattes.
“Is anything wrong?” I finally ask when it becomes apparent she’s not going to volunteer any information. Something has obviously happened to alter her mood so drastically.
She looks at me for a moment as if debating how to answer my question before she slumps in her seat, relaxing her normally perfect posture. “It’s just my parents giving me a hard time.”
“How so?” I admit her mother and father rather intrigue me. They seem to have a lot of control over her considering they never visit. She is usually quiet after speaking with them.
“Oh, they have another perfect candidate for my future husband and they want me to come home for the weekend to meet him.”
I start laughing before I realize she hasn’t even cracked a smile. I bite my lip before asking, “You’re really upset over this, aren’t you?”
She begins rubbing circles on the side of her cup as she stares into space. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I mean, what makes me think that my life is my own? They’ve always been very clear about the fact that they own me. I’m the perfectly dressed daughter who does what I’m told.”
My chest seizes as I look at her in alarm. “Rose…have they—”
She gives me a blank look before her mouth drops open in understanding. She puts her hand over mine, shaking her head. “No, Lia, they’ve never laid a hand on me in anger and I can’t imagine that happening.” She gives me a shamefaced look before saying, “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t be sitting here whining about my parents ordering me around. You must think I’m so…weak.”
“What? No!” I gasp. “Regardless of what happened in my past, Rose, I don’t see it as a reason to look down on you or anyone else. You’re upset and suffering. I would never trivialize that. I want to be here for you as you are for me.” Trying to lighten the sudden tension between us, I add playfully, “Now, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to throw a hormonal fit the likes of which you’ve never imagined. Start talking.”
A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. “Don’t think being pregnant gives you carte blanche to go all bitchy on me, chick. You need to save all of those demands for your sex god.”
“He likes to call the shots.” I laugh before sitting back and waiting for her to open up.
Clearing her throat, Rose begins. “My parents…rather my daddy…expect me to be a certain way.” Tugging at the cashmere of her pink sweater she continues, “I’m to look like my mother, a lady at all times.”
“But what about the guns? That seems like a strange combination.”
Rose laughs. “He can’t help himself. I might look like my mother, but my father passed on his love of weapons to me. He said it wouldn’t do to have a defenseless daughter who couldn’t protect herself. I guess even that would be an embarrassment since he’s such a sportsman.”
“You said something about him wanting you to go out with someone?”
“Oh yes,” she spits out. “I’m just a great big stepping stone for him. For years, he’s let me know that when the time and the connections are right, he’ll find me an ‘appropriate’ husband to settle down with. Hell, the only reason I’m even in college is so I’m well spoken around his business associates. He never even entertained the thought that I would get a job after I graduate.”
“And Max?” I ask before I can stop myself. I know she cares about him and I’m pretty sure he feels something for her even though Lucian says it’s probably only fear for his life.
“I want Max to fuck me,” she says flatly. “But he can’t admit that he wants the same thing.”
“Is that all?”
“Does it matter?” She sounds resigned now, which worries me even more. I’m used to spunky Rose. She’s the girl who takes a shovel to her ex-boyfriend’s tires. She isn’t the type to silently acquiescence.
“Of course, it does,” I argue. “You’re an adult who is capable of making her own decisions.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she says quietly. “I’m someone whose daddy pays for everything. I mean, when I was actually working at this very coffee shop and saving some money of my own, he forced me to quit. Daddy said it was interfering with my schoolwork and that he wouldn’t pay my tuition just to have me fail. I think he just didn’t want to risk me getting out from under his thumb.”
“Rose, what can I do?” I ask, sincerely wanting to help my best friend find an answer to what is upsetting her.
Her phone beeps and her lips tighten as she reads the text. “Listen, I’ve got to run,” she says brightly. “Don’t worry about me; I’m just PMS-ing today. I’ll pick up some chocolate and be as good as new tomorrow.” Before I can stop her, she’s out the door. What in the holy hell just happened?