Breaking Out (The Surrender Trilogy 2)
Irritably grabbing her clutch, she turned with a huff to leave the fancy restroom. She gasped and stumbled slightly on her death heels when she saw Lucian watching her. He stood, posture lazy, leaning against the door, studying her. How long had he been there?
“Everything okay?” he asked in a monotone voice, face unreadable. He was being weird.
“This is the ladies’ room,” she hissed, stating the obvious.
“You seem upset. Something you want to talk about?”
He was acting cold and distant. “You can’t be in here, Lucian.”
“Who’s going to stop me, Evelyn? I practically paid for this bathroom in tips alone. No one has the balls to ask me to leave.”
A humorless puff of laughter slipped past her lips. Arrogant much? “Well, whether they have the balls or not, it isn’t right. Come on. Let’s go back to the table.”
Her heart beat too fast as she walked past him. He was making her nervous. As she brushed past him, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her in the opposite direction. Her body spun and the cool wood of the door pressed into her back. His arms fit on either side of her face, boxing her in, and the lock to the door clicked into place. She stared at him, waiting for an explanation.
“I’m not ready to return to the table.”
She couldn’t wrap her brain around his polar temperament. “Lucian—”
“Take off your dress.”
She gaped. “We’re in a public restroom.”
“Are you telling me no? There’s a word for that.”
Checkmate.
She knew the word. They had an agreement that with all things sexual she would trust him not to harm her, to know what was okay and what wasn’t, but under no circumstances was she to tell him no. All she had to do was breathe her safe word and he would back off. That was acceptable, but the word no was not.
“Lucian, why are you acting like this?” Her voice wavered and she hated showing that he was upsetting her, but why shouldn’t he know? He was being a jerk.
“Are you mine?” he snapped and she flinched. “Are you?”
Why was he behaving like this? “Yes! I don’t understand—”
“Take off your dress.”
Pressing her lips together, she drew in a deep breath. His scent was all around her. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He loved her. But for some reason he was not being himself, and that made her worry something bigger, something she was missing, was wrong. There was something he wasn’t telling her.
Lowering her gaze, her fingers reached to the back of her dress and closed over the tiny zipper. The slow glide of metal teeth filled the quiet room as she pulled. She swallowed and slid the straps off her shoulders, exposing her breasts, her stomach, and then her hips. She wasn’t wearing panties. The dress was too tight. As the fabric passed her hips, she let go.
Lucian bent to pick up the dress just as she stepped out of the red puddle. He tossed it to the seat by the door. “Go over to the vanity.”
She blinked then did as he said. The vanity was built into the wall. A flat porcelain countertop with a gilded mirror bracketed to the wall. He used his foot to move the cushioned seat directly in front of her. Evelyn didn’t want to see her reflection in that moment. She was afraid if she saw the confusion in her eyes, paired with the antipathy in Lucian’s, something inside of her would crack.
His hands pressed down on her shoulders. “Kneel.”
She lowered herself to the cushioned stool, her palms automatically reaching for the vanity for support. The metal clank of Lucian’s belt coming undone made her shiver. Her body had a Pavlovian response to such things and, to her chagrin, her sex contracted.
His palm pressed into the back of her shoulder, slowly easing her forward. She finally lifted her gaze to her reflection, needing to see his as well, and searched his expression.
His gaze was directed at her backside. His expression made no sense. He appeared almost . . . rueful. Evelyn studied her reflection, trying to see what he saw. Her breasts hung like twin pieces of supple fruit fresh for the picking, and her dark, wavy hair draped over her lily-white shoulders. In that moment she had a flash of Eve driving Adam to madness.
The queen has more power than any other piece. She can manipulate even the king to move from a distance.
Lucian was completely dressed, still wearing his suit jacket, his hard cock protruding from the opening in his pants. He stepped close and without a word, lined his cock up with her sex. As much as she wished she could claim she was unaffected, she couldn’t. Her body was ready for him, as always.
Without preamble, he thrust into her and she reflexively grunted at the force in which he entered her. Looking up, she found his eyes boring into her. After pulling slowly out, he thrust again, hard, as if to convey a message to her.