Mia

“Oh my God! Are you trying to scare me to death?” I yell once I’ve landed on the floor again, my feet having lifted right out from under me I jumped so high.

The lamp flicks on with a snap of Lucas’s hand and I am momentarily blinded as I clutch at my chest and try to keep my heart from popping out.

He’s seated in one of the armchairs in the shared sitting room, his shirt discarded and bare feet on display as he scowls at me and points to a seat, silently ordering me to sit down.

I would refuse, I really would but my damned legs have turned to jelly and my breathing is so erratic I feel as if I may just pass out.

“Jeeeeeez Louise, Lucas, are you trying to kill me with fright? I almost peed myself,” I mumble, trying to shake the sense of doom creeping up on me when he narrows his eyes and glowers, patiently waiting until I’m seated in a sprawl, my heels falling from my hands to land beside my seat.

“What the hell have you been doing for,” he looks at his watch, “five hours?”

“Erm, I went out to dinner and then I had a hankering to explore the night life,” I say stiltedly, swallowing the urge to apologize and run to my room like a teenager caught sneaking in.

“Night life? With that punk I saw escorting you from the lobby?” he demands.

I don’t hear a word of what he’s saying because at this point it’s become clear to me that the man has perfect nipples and by perfect, I mean I can’t stop staring at them or the way his stomach muscles clench and undulate with every movement.

Did I touch any of that last night, I wonder, deciding that if I didn’t, I really missed out because wow, okay, just wow. I’ve seen him shirtless many times but after having sex…it’s different. I don’t know how but it is.

I want to lick his-

Nope. Nuhuh, not going there, Mia, I scream scornfully, blinking rapidly because my head won’t turn and I can’t quite get my eyes to lift either.

“Mia!”

“Wha-”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to just go out into a foreign city at night? With a stranger? He could have been one of those idiots who steal women. A murderer. A rapist.”

I giggle, I can’t help it. Bronson and his son Gavin volunteer at a women’s shelter every second weekend and the man has seven sisters, I shit you not.

I bet he’s more afraid of women than any man I have ever known, and I get it after hearing tales of what those women did to him growing up. One male in between seven females, talk about syncing your period. I’m surprised he didn’t get his flow with all that estrogen flowing around and trust me, if those women are still alive after what they did to him as a kid, it’s a safe bet the man is a saint where females are concerned.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” I wheeze, sucking in air, “Bronson couldn’t hurt a woman if he wanted to! He has seven sisters, Lucas. And he loves them.”

“This proves nothing,” he insists, making me suck in air and attempt to control my mirth.

That nightcap may have been a bad idea.

“No, but then I don’t need to prove or disprove anything. Just that I went out and here I am, safe and sound after an enjoyable night spent in good company.”

His mouth tightens at the validity of that statement and I mentally tick off one on the scoreboard, enjoying the first real victory I’ve had in…forever.

“Bronson? What name is this? And how could you endanger yourself this way, going to God knows where with a stranger without letting me know where the hell you were?”

Oooookay. See, now this is where I get annoyed because how dare he! This is a double standard of the highest order and I refuse-

Calm down. New leaf. No temper. Just be calm, detached and matter of fact, I tell myself, breathing deeply to release the tension that’s sprung up.

“First of all, I happen to like his name, it’s unique, and second, I went to dinner with a man I met, on a date because that’s how it works! Guy sees girl, asks her out and presto, the custom of dating is established. It’s no different than what anyone else does, Lucas. In fact, it’s no different than what you do. I’ve seen you proposition women over the buffet table more than once.”

“I am a man,” he argues, flinging me a brooding, macho look.

“Yes. I am aware. Is that supposed to mean something?” I ask, patiently eyeing my bedroom door with longing.

“Of course! How would you fare if this Bronson,” he sneers the name, “were to attack you? You’d be helpless.”

“No, I wouldn’t. Barry has shown me a lot of self-defense moves over the years while we sat in hotel rooms waiting for you to…be done,” I say, proud of the level, unheated tone of voice I use instead of the sneer I want to employ. “I know how to take care of myself, Lucas, I can assure you I haven’t just been sitting around in my ugly little suits just awaiting direction from the great master. I’m not a loser, I have a life.”

A little white lie. Mostly, Barry used to let me beat him up because I would get so despondent every time I had to sit in a room, waiting for him and the next flight that he’d take pity on me.

“This is not the point,” he says, frustration coloring his voice to the extent that his accent thickens, losing some of the American undertone he’s picked up along the way.

“What is the point then? Look, I am sorry if you’re angry that I went shopping today with Daphne, I’ll pay back the money she insisted we use on your card. And if this is about me not working, then okay, I am sorry, but I didn’t have clothes and I wasn’t gonna just hang around in the room making calls in dirty clothes. And I just thought that if I kept Daph busy then she wouldn’t sit around and worry about your papa. And it worked.”

“This isn’t about the money, Goddammit. I could give two shits if you maxed the fucking card Mia.” He roars, making me jump with fright.

“What then?”

“You…I…I was worried. You’re not experienced in these matters,” he says after a long pause, throwing me for a loop.

“Um, okay. Well, I mean, I’m fine, as you can see. All limbs present and accounted for.”

“Limbs, yes, but you’ve been gone for hours. And your hair…” he says raggedly, making me pat at my head and recall that Bronson helped me remove the pins when the weight started giving me a head ache.

“Oh. Yeah, I love Daphne but I told her it would give me a screaming migraine in less than an hour and I was right. Not that it helped much, it was a little windy, my hair kept blowing in my eyes.”

“Your glasses…”

“I forgot them here when we left and I wasn’t gonna run all the way back just to read a menu. Bron read it for me,” I explain, smiling because he tried to read, in Italian, and I laughed so hard at his attempts he eventually gave up and let me talk to the waiter.

I don’t speak the language but I’ve picked up a lot in six years and at least we got the shrimp so I can’t be all that bad.

“Bron?” he says, running a hand through his hair.

“Bronson,” I clarify, nodding my head.

“You don’t even know this guy and you crawl in here after one in the morning. Where all did you go?” he asks suspiciously.

“Oh, you know. We ate, got gelato and killed some time walking around,” I say softly, leaving the rest unsaid. “Anyway, goodnight.”

I rise and make it only halfway to my door before I feel something and try to make a dash to cover the rest of the distance. I don’t make it because he’s on me the next minute, moving so fast I lose my breath when he shoves into me, my front hitting the wall, his back pressing against me.

In this position, I’m trapped and can feel every inch of his hard, muscled body pressed into me, the intimacy of him against my back, his crotch in my ass making me gasp and go liquid between my legs.

“Wha-”

“Did you let that asshole kiss you? Hhm? Answer me!” he yells, the hard sound ricocheting into my ear where his mouth is pressed.

I don’t answer because I’m a little scared. Terrified really since the truth is that I did. I did kiss Bronson after our nightcap. Mostly because I wanted to know what I would feel, kinda like a test to see if I could enjoy it and the rest because I wanted to erase Lucas.

It’s pretty set in stone that I am now broken, I must be to get a kiss of the like Bronson gave me and not feel much of anything besides a pleasant tingle. I started it, clumsy as my attempt may have been and he was the one to finally pull away and smile softly at me before laying me down on the sofa in his room and sitting with me, stroking my hair.

We talked for a bit and it became apparent to me that even if Bronson isn’t over his ex or ready for anything more, he was most certainly ready for…more.

I was tempted to give it to him, to just say screw it, rip my clothes off and have wild, uninhibited sex with him right then and there to wipe away last night and show myself that I can move on but just thinking it, thinking that I could use another person that way made me feel cheap.

So I left, giggling when Bronson looked down at his cock ruefully and made reference to a long shower. I left as a friend who could be more, something I am excited about, if not a little terrified of. But I left and-

“Did you kiss him?” Lucas roars again, biting into my neck when I don’t answer immediately.

“Yes.”

He shudders, a full-bodied movement that pushes him closer and makes me well aware of his size and the feel of his cock pressed to my ass. He’s aroused right now, I can feel it and everything inside me melts, turning liquid while my clit starts throbbing and I clench inside, my body grasping for the remembered feel of him filling me.

It may sound sick, to me it does, but I want him so much in this moment that it physically hurts not to have him. I go wet, feel my juices sliding from my sheath and tremble with the desire building fast inside me.

“Was it good, Mia? Did he put his tongue in your mouth and make you feel the way I do?”

“Luc-”

“Did your nipples go hard for him and beg for his mouth the way they did when I had you? Remember what it felt like when I sucked on them, bit them just until the point of pain before suckling you to an orgasm?” he asks softly, the purr in his voice, accompanied by those words making me moan beneath my breath and push closer to him.

Oh God, I want that so badly it’s painful.

“N-”

“And this,” he murmurs, licking into my neck, his hand travelling down, over my belly, smoothing back up to hook the hem of my dress and push it up.

I almost come when he ghosts over my thighs and groan when his hand lands between my legs, his broad palm cupping me while a finger eases down, nestling into my slit. I am so wet now I know he can’t miss the evidence of my desire for him.

So ready and needy for him to touch me in any way. I groan when he rubs me softly, the touch feather light and lean back, giving him my neck, shuddering when his tongue comes out to stroke over the place where his teeth scraped.

“Did you open and let him put his hands here, cara?” he croons, flicking at my clit when I gasp and tense my pelvis. “Hhhhmm. I can smell you, cara, all that slippery, smooth cream getting your body ready to be fucked.”

Yes, yes, that’s what I want, I think dazedly, struggling between the need to push into his hand or push back to feel the evidence of his lust cradled between my ass cheeks.

“Luc.”

He rubs me again, the pressure firmer and I lose the will to decide as my head goes back, falling onto his shoulder, my hips pushing forward to strengthen the touch at my clit, needing more, so much more.

I’m so aroused now I can’t think, only feel and it’s a relief because I get to have what I want without making the choice to be stronger.

“Please.”

“Please what, cara? Tell me.” He purrs, strumming through my cleft as I pant, his finger dipping down to rub at the entrance to my body. “You want my finger inside this hot little place? My cock?”

“Yes. God, please.”

And just like that he releases me and pushes away, leaving my body in a state of such stark need I physically shake, my legs threatening to buckle beneath me.

“You think I would take another man’s leavings?” He laughs then, the sound cruel as I turn to look at him, stunned and confused because I haven’t managed to form a thought beyond wanting to cry in need.

“Leav-”

“Did you really think I would want you after you went to another man?” he asks softly, the tone of his voice at odds with the anger and disgust I see in his eyes.

“But I didn’t-”

“From now on you work from the office. I will hire a PA to liaise with you and accompany me when I travel.”

What? I can’t even…

I’m not tracking properly, my mind still fuzzy and blank from shock when he smiles and gives me the cruelest look I have ever seen on Lucas Fabrizio.

“You may, of course, quit and leave, if you feel the need. I expect you to.”

“What?”

“But then I would have to warn you that if you do I really will take you to court for breach of the previous contract you signed with me, as well as breach of the one you illegally signed with Oaks as evidence.”

“I-”

“So, it seems you have a choice to make here, Mia,” he says coldly and it’s then that I realize that this whole exercise has been about power.

Not wanting me or being angry that I went out on a date. Lucas is doing this, has done this, to humiliate me. Why, I can’t even begin to fathom, but at this moment I feel as if he’s ground me into dust and pissed on whatever remains.

“I don’t understand,” I stutter, fighting to breathe through the choked pain and the sudden loss of all arousal.

It happens so swiftly I’m reeling-

“Why did you…” I gesture to the wall and my body. “I thought…”

“That I would want his sloppy seconds?” he laughs, shaking his head. “Cara, I never take used goods, ask Gisele. Now, I believe it is late and we need to be up early for your flight. You have a decision to make.”

He turns on his heel and leaves before I can say a thing, not that I would have. Right now, it’s all I can do not to cry. I’m in shock, I fully accept it as I make my way to my room on leaden feet and into the shower, not bothering to look at myself in the mirror, just jumping in and washing with water that’s hot enough to scald.

I scrub, hard, feeling so dirty it makes me weak. And I cry too, because I have no idea what the hell just happened. All I know is that I am stuck. Trapped in a life that is ruled by a man who just looked at me as if I am the filthiest thing he has ever seen. Trapped in my body and mind by a love that just won’t leave me.

When the tears run out along with the hot water I dress in a t-shirt and shorts and crawl into bed. My eyes stay open for hours and I watch dawn approach and break through the window, numb. Devoid of all emotion but the driving need to get the heck out of here.

The phone rings as I’m pulling my weary body from bed and I answer with a terse hello.

“Good morning, Miss Carmichael. This is your wakeup call.”

I smile humorlessly as I thank the receptionist and prepare for the day ahead thinking that yes, indeed, this is a wakeup call. What the hell did I think I was doing, giving in to a man who had just hours before treated me as if I didn’t exist but for the functions he dictates.

I’ve been awake all night, forcing myself not to think at all, just lying in that bed trying to clear my mind of anything and everything that hurts. I should have taken it all out, picked at the scab till it bled and let it consume me.

But I get it. I’m a dumb ass, a fool, a lovesick nympho who would have slept with Lucas last night without one thought to the consequences afterward.

I need to shore myself up, put myself back in secretary mode and know that no matter what is said or how I feel, all I am at the end of the day is a body. Hasn’t he already shown me that?