Lucien (The Marchesi Family 1)

I want you, and I always get what I want.

Would he come looking for me if I didn’t show up the next day?

No, surely not. He was a busy man. He’d enjoyed toying with me, but I couldn’t possibly be that important to him. When I didn’t show up, he’d find someone else to play with if he hadn’t already forgotten me by then.

The next day, I felt even more depressed than usual as I walked to yet another temporary work assignment. I should’ve been thankful the agency hadn’t listened to the asshole I’d worked for two days ago, but all I could think about was Lucien. Jimmy had called me several times the night before, but I’d erased the messages he’d left without listening to them. I wasn’t going to let him involve me in his problems any more than he already had. I didn’t know what kind of trouble he was in, but if it involved Lucien and his family, it was serious.

I was doing the right thing by not going back. I knew that, but I couldn’t help being a little disappointed I wouldn’t get to see Lucien again. I didn’t want to work for a man like him, and I would never intentionally take a risk like that. I should have been thankful I’d gotten away, but Lucien’s presence was so electrifying. I would never know what he might’ve done to me. The night before, I’d dreamed about him… more than once. In the dreams, he’d put his hands on me and hadn’t let me go. He’d expected exactly what I’d thought he would when he made me kneel in front of him. And I’d given him everything he’d asked for and begged for more, then woken up gasping for breath, sweaty, and hard as an iron bar.

I’d never found hookups satisfying, so I’d gotten used to not having anything touch my dick but my own hand. Last night, it hadn’t seemed like enough. I zoned out on the red line having slept only fitfully after waking from my dreams of Lucien.

When I exited the train at my stop, I pulled out my phone to check the directions once again. As I studied the map, thick fingers closed around my bicep so hard I yelped. I started to pull away, but another hand came down on my shoulder. I realized there were two men behind me. Two large, broad-shouldered, beefy men I had little chance of getting away from.

“What do you want?” I hated how my voice shook.

“Mr. Marchesi sent us,” the man on my right said. “You’re late for work.”

“He likes everyone to be on time,” the other man said.

“Thank you, but I told him I didn’t need the job.”

The man on my right jerked my arm. “You’ll have to tell him that again in person because he asked us to bring you to him.”

My heart was racing, and I was afraid I was either going to faint or throw up. But there was a tiny part of me that liked the fact that Lucien didn’t want to let me go. I hated myself for even thinking that way.

“Start walking to the car,” the man on my left said, gesturing toward a black car illegally parked down the street.

I considered my options. I wasn’t going to be able to get away from these men. I’d told myself again and again I should take a self-defense class, but my strategy of hiding from trouble had worked for me so far. Fucking Jimmy.

Would being under Lucien’s control be so bad? Images from my dream flashed into my mind.

I shouldn’t be thinking that way, but what was I supposed to do? I didn’t have any option but to head toward the car like the man had said. Maybe later I could find a way to escape. Maybe Lucien wouldn’t turn out to be as bad a man as I thought.

Yeah, right. Like I would be that lucky.

4

Lucien

“Mr. Marchesi?” Carla called over the intercom.

“Yes?”

“Leo and Rick are here with your new receptionist.”

“Send Peter in, and do not let anyone disturb me for any reason.”

“Yes, sir.”

I looked up from my desk when the door opened a few seconds later. I heard Carla whisper “Go on” before Peter took a tentative step toward the doorway and then another one.

“Close the door behind you and lock it,” I said looking back down at the papers in front of me.

“Sir, please. I—”

“I didn’t ask you to speak. Come stand in front of my desk.”

I saw him move in my peripheral vision, but I deliberately didn’t look at him. I took my time reviewing the reports I’d been looking over. When I was done, I closed my leather folio, folded my hands on top of it, and gave Peter a slow perusal, letting him see my displeasure. “I told you to be here at nine o’clock. Did you misunderstand me?”