Pierced (Lucian & Lia 1)
Page 8
His eyes dance as he says, “Just call me Aidan.” Pulling out a chair beside him, he adds, “Have a seat; you look like you need a drink, Lia.” Before I can object, he settles me next to his side and a glass of wine appears. “I trust you skipped the Nyquil tonight?”
Before answering, I pick up the glass and take a big gulp. “You tricked me. There is no Aidan Spencer, is there?”
His hand moves to my knee, rubbing circles against the tender skin before saying, “Oh, there is an Aidan, and he is here somewhere tonight. I just decided to hedge my bets and make sure you didn’t turn me down. Even though I know you wanted to see me again as much as I wanted to see you, I knew you would deny it, even to yourself.” His touch is doing crazy things to my body, and I’m fighting the urge to moan in pleasure. He leans closer and his lips settle near my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You’ve been on my mind this week, Lia. I can’t stop thinking about how you’ll look when you come.”
The drink of wine that I am in the process of swallowing is suddenly blowing from my mouth and nose. I try to catch my breath as I choke. Lucian removes his hand from my leg and pats my back gently until I can breathe again. Mortified, I take the napkins the bartender is holding out and try to dry up the mess I’ve made. Turning to the amused man beside me, I roll my eyes and say, “Please warn me next time before you say something like that.”
“So, you agree there’ll be a next time. I knew you were a realist, baby.”
I raise a brow, loving the verbal wordplay despite myself. “Baby? Isn’t that a little…personal for someone you barely know?”
His wandering hand returns to my knee before running lightly beneath the hem of my dress. “I’m ready to remedy that whenever you are…Lia.” I can’t ever remember being so turned on from just a conversation. Talking to Lucian is like word foreplay. My core throbs and I fight the urge to squeeze my legs together to assuage the ache there. This type of desire is foreign to me. I have the usual needs of a woman my age, but I easily take care of them myself. I’ve never been turned-on by a man to the point of misery before.
Looking around the room, I attempt to change the subject to something less stimulating. “So…um, why are we here tonight?” When he gives me a devilish smile, I rush on before he can comment. “I mean, is this business or pleasure?” Oh, shit. I want to drop my head and admit defeat. There is no way he is going to let the pleasure comment pass. At this rate, I’ll drop my panties within ten minutes and beg him to fuck me on the counter while the bartender refills the peanuts beside my head.
Lucian grins, seeming to know what I’m expecting, so I’m surprised when he simply says, “It’s business tonight. This is a celebratory party for the sales team. They closed a particularly big contract this week and deserve the recognition.”
Curious, I ask, “Are you a salesman?” I had been so high from cold medicine at our last meeting that I scarcely remember the conversation from that evening.
Idly, he continues to twirl his finger on the delicate skin of my inner thigh as he answers. “No, baby, I’m not.” Again with the ‘baby’, but it sounds too damn sexy for me to actually object. I like it…a lot, and he knows it. As I continue to wait for him to explain further, he blows out a breath and almost reluctantly admits, “I own the company.”
I’m not surprised; truthfully, I would hardly expect anything less. It doesn’t take an expert to realize his clothing isn’t off the rack. The man has probably never stepped foot in Walmart before. I have a strange urge to giggle when I imagine what he would think if he knew my dress had been bought on sale at the mall for fifteen dollars. Just as his finger starts to wander into dangerous territory, someone claps a hand on his shoulder, causing him to jerk around in surprise. I immediately miss the loss of his warmth against me. “Luc, I was wondering where you were.” Turning, I find a handsome man of about Lucian’s age grinning at me. “And who is this?” Is it my imagination, or does Lucian suddenly look uncomfortable?
Lucian stands, helping me to my feet so we are facing the newcomer. “Lia, this is my friend and work associate, Aidan Spencer.” Aidan is giving me a curious look as I gape back at him. “Aidan, this is Lia Adams, a friend of mine.”
Aidan takes my hand in his, brushing his thumb against my palm. The move has probably sent many women straight into orgasm, and it might have worked on me were I not firmly captivated by Lucian. At this point, Aidan is just sloppy-Luc-seconds. Lucian slides a possessive arm around my waist, seeming pleased by my lack of reaction toward his friend. Outside of Lucian, Aidan is probably one of the best-looking men I have ever met, but he’s not Lucian. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lia. Are you here with Luc?”
Before I can answer, Lucian tightens his hold on me, saying, “Yes, she is. Where is your date, or are you flying solo?” I’m not sure if it’s me or Lucian who groans when Monique walks toward us; she is one thing I remember vividly from our last evening together. “Who invited her?” Lucian asks, clearly unhappy.
Aidan smiles sheepishly. “That would be me, buddy.” Lucian shoots him a look of amazement to which Aidan just shrugs. “Hey, one man’s burger is another man’s steak.” The conversation ceases as Monique reaches us, going straight for Lucian.
“Luc…darling, there you are.” She leans in, pressing a kiss to both cheeks. I have no doubt she would prefer his mouth, but he isn’t offering. She then turns, looking me up and down before wrinkling her perfect nose. “Oh…Lucy, isn’t it? You’re Luc’s little…friend.” Great, she makes it sound as if I should be selling Girl Scout Cookies and playing hopscotch.
It’s obvious she is trying to belittle me. I’d love nothing better than to run for the door and never look back, but some part of me I didn’t know existed refuses to let her win. My dislike of her is stronger, and the need to get under her skin is even stronger. Without giving myself time to ponder the wisdom, I curve my body against Lucian’s and stick out a hand to the other woman. Giving her my best innocent smile, I say, “It’s Lia. I’m so happy to see you again, Mandy.” There, take that, smart-ass. I know I’ve scored a direct hit when her possibly-botoxed mouth tightens, and her handshake is hard enough to sever my fingers. Lucian’s arm tightens around my waist, and I have no idea if he is amused or pissed by our verbal bitch-slapping contest.