Chapter Ten
Lia
As I sit through my last class of the morning, I accept the simple truth: I’m dying. There is no other explanation for it. My throat is on fire, my body aches, and my head is pounding. I’m barely able to keep myself upright in my chair. When I woke this morning, I was tired. I blamed it on worrying about Luc all night and not sleeping well. Now, I think it’s something more. This isn’t simple fatigue; I suspect it’s the flu. Spending almost three days in constant close proximity with someone contagious was not my brightest moment. The flu shot isn’t going to save me this time; I can only hope it shortens the duration as it promises to.
When the class ends, I close my eyes for a moment, trying to gather the strength to walk home. Oh, dear God, how far away am I? Squaring my shoulders, I stumble to my feet and sway for a moment before catching myself. I can do this…I have no choice. It’s a painfully slow process, but I make my way through the hallway and outside. The fresh air on my face revives me only slightly but also sends a shiver through my body. I know I’m running a fever; I feel it burning through my body.
I have no idea how long it takes me, but I finally make it to my apartment. The stairs are sheer Hell, and I have to stop every few steps. Finally, a few from the top, I give into the urge to crawl. The door is another struggle, but soon the keys are in the lock and its opening. I have no idea if it even closes behind me; at this point, no one could do anything worse to me than what I’m already feeling. I face-plant onto my bed, and that is all I know. Dimly, I’m aware of something chiming over and over, but I’m too out of it to care. Surely, someone will answer the damn phone at some point.
Something cool touches my face and I gasp in shock. My eyes are blurry as I try to focus. Someone is bashing my skull and I moan, wanting to beg for mercy. “Baby, can you hear me?” Despite the fog surrounding me, I know that voice and turn instinctively toward it. “Lia, baby, wake up.” He sounds upset and even in my state, I am worried about him.
As my eyes blink open, I see Lucian bending over me, concern etched deeply in his face. Behind him is…Sam? Where am I and what are they doing here? “Sick…” I mumble the obvious.
“Baby, I know you are. I’m going to take you home now. Just try to hold on to me, okay? Let me know if you need to stop.” I groan as Lucian puts his hands under me, gently lifting me into his arms. I am surprised to see a shocked-looking Rose and Jake standing just outside my bedroom door as Lucian carries me past. He stops and says something to them I don’t catch, and they nod before he walks on. At least their presence answers one question: we are at my apartment.
Lucian takes each step slowly as I lay weakly against him. When we reach the sidewalk, Sam runs ahead and opens the back door of the Mercedes. I have no idea how he does it, but Lucian manages to slide in the seat without releasing his hold on me. As my teeth start chattering, he pulls me closer, folding me against his chest and wrapping his suit jacket around me as best he can. “Where?” I say against his throat, but he seems to know what I’m asking.
“I’m taking you home with me. Fuck, you about gave me a heart attack. I’ve been calling and texting you for hours and you weren’t answering. When you didn’t show at the apartment either, I knew something was wrong. I was afraid…”
As out of it as I am, I know what he was worried about; he was afraid my stepfather had harmed me. “S’ok…I got sick during class. Don’t know how I made it home.”
“When I got to your apartment, your roommate was freaking out. You left the front door open, your keys were in the lock, and your purse was lying on the floor. She was getting ready to call the police, because she thought someone had either taken you or had you inside. Sam and I found you passed out on the bed, burning the fuck up. It’s the first time I’ve ever been grateful someone had the flu, because the alternative would have been so much worse.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. His strong body is tense beneath my hands as I try to soothe him. I don’t know why he’s so upset, but I feel guilty for doing this to him. He doesn’t answer; he just pulls me closer and rests his chin against the top of my head. I drift as the car moves quietly through the night. If I know nothing else, I know Lucian will take care of me.
When we reach his apartment, despite my weak protests, he again carries me. Sam opens the door before asking which room Lucian is taking me to. “My room,” Lucian answers and Sam walks ahead, turning a bedside lamp on as Lucian deposits me gently on the edge. Sam leaves and returns with a glass of water and a bottle of medicine. Lucian coaxes a couple down my throat and I choke on the water before catching my breath. “Sam, you can go now. I think we still have enough supplies here.”
“All right, Luc. Could you call me later and let me know how Miss Lia is doing?” When Lucian agrees, Sam walks out of the bedroom, and I slump backwards on the bed.
“Just kill me now,” I groan; at this point, death would be a welcome respite. Just as I feel myself starting to drift off again, Lucian is pulling me back up into a sitting position as I feebly try to push him away.
“Come on, baby; let me get you into something more comfortable, and you can go to sleep.”
Opening one eye, I peer up at him. “If you think you’re getting sex, you are out of your mind.” I sound like someone fresh off a two-week drunk. He looks down at me, seeming to be trying to contain the smile pulling at his lips.
“I’ll try to control myself until you are upright. Now, just sit there and let me get you changed.” Like a child, I let him lift my arms, pulling off my shirt and despite my weak protests, my bra follows next. He puts one of his soft t-shirts over my head before kneeling at my feet to remove my shoes and pants. Thankfully, he leaves my panties on, although at this point, I wouldn’t have fought for them. He pulls back the covers and tucks me in on his side of the bed. I inhale appreciatively as his scent clings to the pillow. He asks if I need anything, but I wave him away, only wanting to sleep. I wonder for a moment why I’m here. Why would he want to take care of me? Maybe just returning the favor. My thoughts spin away as sleep once again claims me.
I moan as something cool strokes across my cheeks. “Feels so good,” I groan. When a straw slips between my dry lips, I drink greedily; the feel of the cold liquid against my throat is Heaven. When the straw is pulled away, I reach out, trying to bring it back.
“Not too much, baby; it might make you sick.” Oh, that voice. Shivers run down my spine as I blink my eyes open to see a casual Lucian sitting beside me, tousled hair and a five o’clock shadow darkening his handsome face. I want to climb him like a tree and eat him up. He looks down at me for a moment, giving me a sexy grin; he seems to know exactly what I’m thinking. He curls a strand of my blonde hair around his finger, asking, “How’re you feeling?”
I lie there for a moment, taking stock of my body. The throbbing in my head is down to a dull thud, and my throat, although dry and scratchy, is no longer sore. I still feel like I’ve been run over by a car, but it’s progress. “Better,” I croak out around the cotton in my mouth. He gives me another sip of what I recognize as ginger ale. “How long have I been in bed?” It’s a strange feeling to lose awareness of day and time, and I’m desperate to fill in the blanks.
“I picked you up Monday afternoon, and now it’s Wednesday morning, so not too long.”
“Oh, shit,” I try to jump from the bed. “I’ve got a class this morning, a test…I’ve got to go.” Lucian puts a hand on my chest, effectively holding me down. Just that small amount of effort has winded me, and I lie back against the pillow exhausted.
“Not today, Lia. You’re still too weak to go anywhere. We’ll see tomorrow after another day in bed and some food.”
Giving him my best innocent look, I say, “Maybe you could just take me home then? I can rest there, and I’ll be closer to school in the morning.”
He tweaks my nose playfully saying, “Good try, but no. You’ll just crawl to your class if you are close enough. I’m afraid you’re here today.”
My bottom lip rolls out and to my horror, I’m pouting. “Don’t you have to go to work? I can be at home alone just as well as I can here.”
“I do have to go in for a meeting this morning,” he admits, “but then I’ll work from home the rest of the day as I did yesterday.” Surprised, I turn to stare at him.
“You stayed home with me yesterday?” Is it my imagination or does he look uncomfortable at the question?
“Well, I could hardly bring you home with me and then leave you, could I?” Suddenly, images of how I had taken care of him run through my mind. Oh, dear God, surely he hasn’t taken me to the bathroom. I can’t remember anyone ever doing such personal things for me.
“So…was I really out of it? I mean, did you have any trouble…taking care of me?” He gives me an uncomfortable look…is he blushing? Oh, no, it must be worse than I thought if he is embarrassed about something. Even though I’m curious, I don’t want to know. I’d rather believe I woke up from my flu-induced daze to take care of my own business each time it was needed.
He avoids my questions and stands. “I’m going to fix you some breakfast in bed and then catch a shower. I’ll be back soon.” When I hear him in the kitchen, I exit the bed as quickly as possible in my weakened state and use the bathroom. I finger-brush my teeth and consider a shower before deciding to wait until Lucian is gone.
He has nothing but a comb in his bathroom cabinet, and I do my best to pull it through my hair, wincing as it catches on tangles. Looking around the bathroom, I search for something to put my hair up with; hiding the mess is the only answer. I find a roll of dental floss and pull out enough to make a three-ply string. It’s not easy, and my arms are shaking from the effort, but soon I have something that resembles a ponytail on the top of my head. It will have to do until I can find something better.
When I walk back in the bedroom, he is standing beside the bed holding a tray. For a moment, I have an overwhelming urge to cry. People just don’t do things like this for me. It’s surreal, but so sweet I am choked up. Luckily, he blames my glassy eyes on the flu and actually clucks his tongue at me for getting out of bed. Turning away, I crawl back under the covers, pulling them up so he can deposit the tray on my lap. Holding up a phone, he says, “I picked up a charger for your phone yesterday and let it charge overnight. I’ll leave it here in case you need it.” I thank him, touched by how much trouble he had gone through for me. “You might want to call your friend Rose today; she has been blowing the damn thing up. I don’t think she believes me when I say you’re okay.”
“Crap, I’ll do that first thing. She isn’t used to me having…help.” We both decide to let it go at that, knowing full well what I mean. “So,” I say brightly, “the food looks great.” He has made toast, juice, and eggs; it’s the same thing I fed him a few days before.
While I pick up the fork and eat a bit of the eggs, he studies my face and hair. When he touches my ponytail, I try to pull away. “Is that…dental floss?” At my nod, he starts laughing. “Boy, you make use of whatever you have, don’t you? First, a bread tie and now dental floss. Am I going to come home one day to find my underwear in your hair?”
Childishly, I stick my tongue out, which only serves to amuse him further. I watch him as I sip my juice. You would never know he had been sick just a few days prior. “You look like you feel better,” I remark.
“Pretty much back to normal,” he agrees. “It’s been years since I’ve been sick enough to stay in bed for more than a day.” His eyes seem to drift away after that statement, and I wonder what has put that faraway look on his face. When my eyes slip down to the scar on his neck, I wonder if that is the memory he is thinking of. Surely, an injury like that had required a hospital stay. Without thinking, I stroke the top of the hand resting next to mine, and he jumps noticeably. He had been far away, and he is distant now, looking but not really seeing me. “I’ve got to get ready if I’m going to make my meeting,” he says lightly as he stands. Before I can reply, he takes some clothing from his closet and shuts the bathroom door behind him. It makes me angry to think of someone hurting him physically. In such a short amount of time, I have become protective of this beautiful but complex man. If I never saw him again after today, I would still be forever grateful that for once in my life, someone had made me feel protected and cared for.
When he walks from the bathroom a short time later, fully dressed in a form-fitting suit and tie, my mouth drops open, and I literally drool all over the bed covers. I’ve never felt sexual desire like I do when he is near. I shift my legs together, trying to ease the throbbing of my clit. My body knows its master, and every part of me is begging for his attention. At that moment, he could fuck me in any way he wanted to, and I’d beg for more. As he moves closer, my eyes roll back in my head; he smells even better than he looks. I’m so horny; I fight a battle to keep from leaping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. As he leans over to remove the tray from my lap, his eyes lock on mine and he knows. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare as if smelling my arousal. I grip his silk tie as he remains frozen over me, the tray all but forgotten between us. When I lick my suddenly dry lips, he groans as if in pain. “So…I guess you have to go to work now?”
“I guess so,” he agrees, making no move to pull away. He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, and I part my mouth, licking the tip. He stares as if mesmerized before slipping his finger inside, saying hoarsely, “Suck it.” I have no idea what comes over me, but I suck his thumb deeper, swirling my tongue around the tip before nipping it. He jerks back in surprise and an apology hovers on my lips. He takes his injured thumb and sucks it into his mouth, never breaking eye contact with me. “You’re fucking killing me here.” Unable to resist, my eyes lower to his crotch and the impressive tent there; he isn’t lying, I am getting to him. He clears his throat, and I look up to find him smirking knowingly at me. “That’s right, baby; when I get back, you’ll suck that, too, so get some rest.” With those words, he removes the tray from my lap and leaves the room. A few moments later, I hear the front door slam, and I slump back onto the pillows, using a shaking hand to fan myself.
Suddenly, I’m dying to touch myself. The need to touch my clit and put a finger inside my aching sex is almost overwhelming. The thought of masturbating in Lucian’s bed is dirty…but erotic. Just imagining his reaction if he found out is enough to have my hand lowering, stroking myself through the damp material of my panties. I let out a moan that echoes through the empty apartment. The sound of an incoming text from my phone brings my wandering hand to a halt. Using my free hand, I grab my phone, looking at the screen.
LUCIAN: You better not touch yourself while I’m gone.
Wildly, I look around the room, almost expecting to see him standing there, but he isn’t. He couldn’t possibly know what I’m doing. This is just some kind of twisted foreplay.
LIA: I’m sleeping, sicko.
I chuckle at my clever reply.
LUCIAN: Liar. You’re touching that sweet pussy. Do you want to be fucked with my tongue, baby?
OH. MY. GOD. No one has ever talked dirty to me the way he does, and it drives me out of my mind. The things he makes me crave should embarrass me, but they don’t. The fact that he lets me see how much he wants me gives me confidence I’ve never had. We are both scarred, and maybe that is what draws us to each other like a moth to the flame.
Lia: Yes, I need you…
My answer, though short and simple, is completely honest; I need all he will give me. We are miles apart in every way, but he was there when I needed him, he took care of me, and now I desperately need the physical connection to him.
Lucian: Me too, baby. I’ll be home around noon. Be laying on the chaise in the living room. I want you completely naked with your legs spread and your ass at the end. You better be wet and swollen, or I’ll know you touched yourself.
I’m panting as I read his text. How can he say stuff like that and expect me not to touch myself? I need an orgasm the way an addict needs his next fix. Can you die of sexual frustration, because I feel like I’m close.
Lia: I’ll try my best to wait.
I hope he knows I’m being honest and not trying to taunt him. I’m in such agony that agreeing to wait seems impossible. I’m also shocked at how easily I’m discussing something this personal with him.
Lucian: If you’re a good girl, I’ll eat you for lunch. If you’re a bad girl, I’ll jack off on your tits and leave you to suffer all night.
The breath leaves my body in a painful whoosh. Instead of being intimidated, I’m gushing between my thighs. How will I ever make it?
Lia: Stop talking to me! I’m going to shower, you evil man.
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 fucked 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 fuck her out of my system and part of me wants to fuck her further into my life. The one thing both parts were in agreement on was the fucking.
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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking 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.
Well, fuck, Aidan is standing on the sidewalk smoking when Sam drops me at the curb. Being interrogated before I even walk in the door is not something I’m looking forward to. “Hey, man.” He grins, taking in my impatient stance.
“Aidan,” I say in return. Looking at my watch, I add, “We’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes. Are you ready?”
He almost looks offended as he says, “Of course, aren’t I always? We should be wrapping up around lunch; where do you want Cindy to make reservations?”
“Wherever you want. I’m leaving as soon as we are finished.” Aidan takes another drag off the cigarette as he seems to consider my answer.
“The girl still sick then?” I know him well. His manner looks casual and relaxed, but he’s anything but.
“She’s better. I’m going to work from home again this afternoon just in case.”
I jerk in shock when he growls, “What about Cassie? You replace her with a new-and-improved model?” As the shock wears off, I want to take my friend and pummel his ass right where he stands. How dare he ask me that; how fucking dare the bastard.
“That’s none of your goddamn business. Lia has nothing to do with that.”
Aidan, ever the chameleon, smiles, slapping me on the back. “Sure, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just seems this girl is different for you. Strangely familiar, you know?” He stubs his cigarette out under his toe, saying, “I’m just going to get a cup of coffee before coming up.” He walks off looking agitated. No matter how many years we have been friends, Cassie is always between us. For Aidan, she’ll always be the one who got away. I wonder if he would still carry that fantasy in his head and his heart if he had been the one involved with her beyond friendship. I barely survived her love, and God knows I hadn’t been as emotionally invested as Aidan. Maybe if I had, things would have ended differently. Who the hell knows; it’s too damn painful to even think about, and it’s been done to death already.
I make it to my office after collecting some messages from Cindy. She, too, asks about Lia, but seems genuinely concerned. I’m sure Sam has given her all the details by now. She is probably just thrilled to see I’ve been with the same woman for more than a week. The urge to snort a line is strong as I shut the door behind me, but I refrain; I need to stop using it as a crutch to deal with everything that is fucked-up in my life. Maybe that resolve comes from imagining what Lia would think if she knew. Of course, with her screwed-up background, it would take a lot to surprise her.
Cindy buzzes my phone to let me know everyone is in the conference room. I wonder fleetingly what I’ll find when I get home. Shifting my hard cock to a more-comfortable position, I walk toward the door. Time to take care of business so I can get out of here and see what’s waiting for me at home.