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Laird couldn’t get her off his mind.
It wasn’t his usual style to get hung up on a woman – any woman for that matter — but there was something about the poor, fragile thing that plucked at some latent sense of chivalry that he’d never known existed inside him and fuck, if he knew what to do with it.
Lana Winters…beautiful, broken Lana. So what was he supposed to do with this newfound obsession? She wasn’t the kind of woman he could fuck and forget — she was the kind of woman who needed cuddling and real emotion and that was out of the question. Laird Tiechert wasn’t the kind of guy who settled down and played house, no matter how pretty or alluring the woman was.
A figure stirred beside him, reminding him that he wasn’t alone and he sighed with irritation. A slim hand reached across his chest to pull him closer and he withheld the urge to push away the woman’s touch. Soulless sexual encounters were his thing. And yet, lately, they just felt, well, soulless. Normally that was the part he enjoyed. It was all her fault. She was all he could think about, all day, every day. It was getting damn annoying honestly. So what to do? He gently lifted the woman’s hand from his chest and climbed from the bed, walking nude to his bathroom. The second question of the day was how was he going to get that woman out of his house? She was one of the Malvagio girls, which meant she was a shameless slut who enjoyed collecting as many dicks as possible but this one, seemed particularly attached to him. And that was just annoying. He shouldn’t have fucked her but he’d been horny and bored and the combination of the two was enough to persuade him against his better judgment.
Well, now, you have this to deal with.
It’d been several months since he’d seen Lana. He figured that once he’d washed his hands of her, he’d forget about her. Not so. Not even a little bit. He wondered how she was doing, if she was being taken care of, who she was around…what a pain in the ass. His own thoughts were badgering him to the point of lunacy.
Damn Vince Buchanan for creating this mess. Usually, Laird was pretty good at handling a crisis but he’d never experienced something like this. Particularly for a woman he’d never slept with!
Quick backstory, as the story goes, almost ten months ago, Vince found himself in a rough spot at the sex club, Malvagio, when a woman who had no business finding her way into the club ended up getting more than she bargained for and needed rescuing. Vince, whose first thought had been to protect the club, put the woman under his care, and then, of all things, went and fell in love with her. Laird never could’ve seen that coming. Vince Buchanan, married? What the fuck? Was the world coming to an end? Surely that was a sign of the coming apocalypse. But, no, the man was happily devoted to his new wife, Emma, even so much that he was willing to give up Malvagio, the club that he and his twin brother, Nolan, founded for the overprivileged perverted who were perennially bored with the mundane. And, hot damn, Malvagio was a fucking playground of perverted pleasures. We’re talking threesomes, orgies, drugs, fuck-all, anything you could possibly want with the express exclusivity of an Eyes Wide Shut secret society. Who wouldn’t want to be part of that guest list, right? Crazy stuff. So yeah, good times. Until Lana Winters wiggled her way past security and found herself, wide-eyed and vulnerable, a perfect target for a man they’d had no idea was lurking in their shadowy halls.
Lana had been hurt — no joke — and that wasn’t what Malvagio was about. Yes, there was plenty of pain happening in the private dungeons, but hell, Malvagio’s motto was one of extreme pleasure and if there was someone getting their ass caned, it was because they craved it, not because they were genuinely being tortured. The things that Lana endured…it made him a bit sick to think of it because the woman, plainly, had been out of her depth when she’d found her way into the club, and no one deserved the things that were done to her.
Was that why he was so hung up on the woman? He felt bad for her? No, he’d love to cling to that idea but even as self-deluded as he could be on his best day, he knew that wasn’t the answer. He wasn’t overly burdened with a sense of empathy but that’s why the situation with Lana baffled him.
Back to the beginning…while Vince had been sorting things out with Emma, Laird had been taking care of her sister, Lana, who had unfortunately kicked off this whole series of events by sneaking into Malvagio in the first place and meeting up with a real closet psycho, ego-maniac who, well, for lack of a better word, fucking tore her up and nearly killed the poor woman. Not exactly the kind of press Malvagio was looking for so he totally understood why Vince had made the decision he had. But to ask Laird to care for Lana while Vince cared for Emma? First of all, Laird a caregiver? Not natural. He was a spoiled shit, much like the Buchanan boys because they all ran together back in the day but also because Laird didn’t do fragile. In his clumsy hands he would most certainly break something that was already cracked. So when Laird reluctantly agreed to take on babysitting Lana…hell, he couldn’t have seen what was coming.
So after everything had gone down, suddenly Vince was permanently hitched to Emma and they were off living la vida loca, he’d relinquished his care of Lana and figured that would be the end of it. Hell, it should have been the end of it. But here he was, many months later still thin
king of the woman that he shouldn’t be thinking about! There were plenty of beautiful women — with far less baggage – they could spend his time with and yet he was sitting here obsessing on a woman who would likely offer him nothing but blue balls!
Maybe this was dengue fever. Maybe a parasite was eating his brain. Maybe when Vince had asked for this particular favor he should’ve been a dick and said no fucking way. But what was done was done, right? It wasn’t as if he could take it back. Too bad he couldn’t stop thinking about her!
The bathroom door opened and a slim blonde walked in with a sleepy smile. Her small tits were a nice handful and her long legs were made to wrap around the man’s hips — his hazy memory seemed to recall her mentioning that she was a model of some sort, but who knows maybe he was mixing her up with someone else — and he knew that they would probably fuck again in the shower but the prospect gave him little in the way of excitement. It was almost a chore. But he supposed he had a reputation to protect.
“I woke up alone,” she purred as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lithe body against his. “I had fun last night. How about an encore?”
He smiled and allowed his hands to slide down to her ass. “I was just about to invite you to join me,” he lied. “I’m ready if you are.”
The woman’s brow climbed her forehead in a playful manner as she glanced down at his semi-flaccid cock. “Are you sure? Little Laird doesn’t look ready to play.”
“He just needs a little encouragement. Sometimes he’s shy.” Good God, what were these words coming out of his mouth? He gently pushed on her shoulders and she willingly went to her knees. He smiled as she took his cock into her mouth. The sensation of wet mouth and clever tongue always a nice one. “That’s a girl.” And then he closed his eyes and pictured someone else, someone he’d never had the pleasure of touching and yet couldn’t stop thinking about in some fashion or another.
When he finally came, the name in his head sounded a lot like…Lana.
***
Lana Winters, a.k.a., the broken girl, couldn’t quite get her thoughts organized. So much had happened in the last ten months that she couldn’t quite fathom how much her life had changed. At one time she’d been so different. Crazy, maybe even a little reckless. Always looking for a good time. Until Malvagio.
She’d heard about the secret club through the gossip chain, whispered in hushed tones about the sinful things that happened there and, of course, she’d been wildly curious. It was an exclusive club, one where you had to be invited to become a member and you had to be sponsored by someone to get in. She couldn’t even remember the asshole’s name who’d sponsored her. Everything about that night was a blur. But even though she might not remember everything about that night, she had the scars both physical and mental to remind her that terrible things had happened that night. She’d almost died there, and because of that incident, her sister Emma had felt compelled to try and bring Malvagio down, but, as things turned out, she fell in love with one of the owners, Vince Buchanan. So, now one of the co-owners of the club she despised, was her brother-in-law.
Yes, let that sink in for a moment. Her freaking brother-in-law.
Sometimes it was more than her brain could possibly handle and she spent a lot of time in her apartment, closed off from the world. After the Malvagio incident, the Buchanans had paid her off to keep her quiet so she had a lump sum of money sitting in various trusts and investments, which helped insulate her from unnecessary contact with people and for that, she was grateful. Unless, Emma dragged her out and forced her to be social, which was still difficult for her. She didn’t know how to trust her instincts anymore.
Take for example, Laird Tiechert — she didn’t know what to think about him. Before Vince and Emma had fallen in love, Vince, sort of, kidnapped Emma so as to avoid bad press for Malvagio after Emma had also been attacked. Talk about Stockholm syndrome.
And yes, Lana still had issues with that but Emma seemed happy so Lana didn’t press the issue. The thing was, Laird had been in on Vince’s plan to coerce Emma into cooperating by roping Lana into the scheme as well. For several weeks Laird had been her protector and if she were being honest, her jailor, which had been wholly strange for them both. The thing was, Lana had begun to see Laird differently but just as she began to let down her guard, Laird unceremoniously split as soon as he got the all-clear from Vince, which told Lana that anything they had shared during that time, had been complete bullshit.
That alternately pissed her off and hurt her feelings. The old Lana, pre-Malvagio, would have marched her sassy ass straight to Laird’s house, banged on the door until he let her in and she would’ve demanded an answer but there was no way that Lana would ever do that now. Her confidence had been deflated like a mangled balloon. Not to mention she was afraid that her internal compass was completely broken and it would never point due north ever again. And she really didn’t have the strength or the courage to go on a bunch of misguided trips, you know? Because of that, remaining inside her apartment seemed safest.
Her front door opened and she rolled her eyes. Emma, no doubt. Emma was the only one who walked into her apartment without knocking. Lana exited her bedroom to find her sister smiling brightly, carrying a bright wreath. “Look what I brought you,” she exclaimed, lifting the festive wreath. I found it at this really awesome boutique and I just knew I had to get it for you. I think it brightens up the entire apartment, don’t you think?”
Lana didn’t want to hurt Emma’s feelings but Lana wished she could just skipped Christmas altogether. And that included decorating in any way shape or form.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Lana murmured accepting the wreath with what she hoped was an appreciative smile. “But it’s beautiful, thank you.”
Emma’s expression fell. “You don’t like it. I can take it back.”
“No, it’s beautiful. I just hadn’t planned on decorating much for Christmas this year.”
Emma drew a deep breath and Lana knew she was about to launch into a familiar subject. “Lana, have you thought about my offer for Christmas?” she asked, proving Lana right.
No, there was no need to think about it because there was no way she was going to spend Christmas with the Buchanans at their Hampton estate. The visions of blissful coupledom were enough to gag her. She could not stomach being surrounded by happy couples as they kiss and snuggle and act like copious amounts of PDA are not only okay but encouraged. She’d rather poke out her own eyeballs. But she couldn’t actually say that because that just sounded bitterly ungrateful and bitchy. “I did think about it and it’s really awesome of you to offer but I think I’m going to stay home,” she said instead, forcing an apologetic smile for her sister’s sake.
Emma’s expression screwed into a determined frowned. “You’re doing it again.”
“I’m doing what?”
“You’re becoming a hermit. You can’t do that to yourself. It’s been ten months —almost a year — since everything happened. You have to learn to let it go and live otherwise that asshole wins.”
A flash of temper colored Lana’s voice as she said, “Excuse me for not being able to move on past almost dying. Unlike you, I didn’t get to fall in love after being brutalized. You can’t rush a person’s healing. And I find it offensive that you would even suggest that.”
Instantly contrite, Emma said, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just hate seeing you like this. I want you to be happy and I know that you’re not happy being stuck in this tiny box day in and day out.”
“You’re right I’m not happy. But it has nothing to do with you or my apartment. I think I’m just broken inside and nothing will ever fix that.”
“All the more reason that you should be around the people who love you,” Emma insisted. “I promise you, a change of scenery is just what the doctor ordered. We need to get out of the city and head up to the beautiful mountains, or, you know what, we don’t have to go to the Hamptons, I can have Vince rent us
an amazing log cabin up in Montana if you want. We’ll go skiing and ice skating or anything you want to do, just promise me you won’t stay in this stupid apartment drinking wine all day like some kind of recluse. Hell, Lana, all you’re missing is a plethora of cats at this point.”
“That will never happen; I don’t like cats.”
“You know what I mean. You need people. Contrary to what you feel right now, you used to be a people person. Which means that you need people in your life in order to function. You used to be an extrovert, remember that?”
Yes, she remembered. And look where that had gotten her. “People change.” She shrugged. “And I don’t really want to have this conversation with you again. It just makes us both sad. I don’t blame you for falling in love — although, I might have a teeny bit of an issue that you found love with the man who owns the club that nearly killed me! But whatever. The fact is, I’m happy that you’re happy. However, that’s your story. Not mine.”
“Lana, you are beautiful and still so young. Don’t close yourself off to life just because something bad happened. Something bad happened to me too but I’m not letting it define me.”
Ice crystallized in Lana’s veins as she said, “What happened to you and what happened to me are not the same.”
“Bullshit. The only reason that sicko didn’t almost kill me was because he must’ve known he was about to get caught and he bailed before he got to finish the job. I know the terror, the nightmares. I still have them, too. But that’s why I don’t let myself give in to all that fear. Have you thought about talking to the counselor that I found?”
“I don’t want to talk to a therapist! All a therapist is going to do is ask me to talk about that night and I don’t remember half of the shit that happened. All I know is that someone beat the snot out of me and raped me when I was semi-conscious. I really don’t want to relive that moment. And frankly, I wish everyone would stop pushing therapy on me! Why can’t I just handle things my own way?”