Coming Home (25 page)

She frowned. “What?”

“Were you just trying to steal an orgasm without my permission?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

His hips lifted and he tucked his cock away. “Stand up.”

She trembled with anticipation. As she stood, the top of her uniform hung in tatters, leaving her breasts peeking out through the shreds of fabric.

“You are so beautiful, Evelyn. I don’t even think you realize how stunning you are, which only adds to your beauty.”

Her face heated. “Thank you. I think you’re beautiful too.”

He tugged her close and she lost her balance. The heat of his palm burned over her cheeks as he rubbed her ass. “You have an amazing ass.” The smack took her by surprise. She gasped as heat spread over her. He rubbed the tender flesh and smacked again. Her sex clenched and she moaned. The third swat landed between her spread legs, his fingers grazing her wet lips. Fingers dragged over her skin and suddenly filled her.

He fucked her with his digits, using fast thrusts. She came in a matter of seconds, feeling her cream coat his fingers and crying out. His mouth slammed into hers. The kiss was greedy. His tongue took her mouth. Teeth pulled at lips. They became possessed by dark need.

The chair rolled over and papers fell. And then she was being lifted and pressed into the glass window. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Her weight leaned into the glass. His pants were again undone and dropped to his thighs. He filled her in one hard thrust.

There were various levels of their sex. Sometimes it was slow like summer rain. Sometimes it was intense like a winter storm that built gradually and ended in something beautiful. And then there was good old chaotic fucking. That’s what he did to her. Like a tornado crashing into a hurricane, he swept in and changed everything.

His body beat at hers in smooth licks like a rushing brook over the bellies of rocks. Thunder built in his chest and they came in an eruption of cries. He broke her open, split her every nerve wide, and left her without a shred of cover: bare, exposed, sheltered in nothing more than him.

He breathed into her shoulder harshly, pinning her to the window. Her six-inch heels dangled at his back. Her lips pouted as she caught her breath.

“I’ve never had better service,” he rasped and she laughed, tugging at his hair.

***

With a final sigh of satisfaction, Lucian collapsed beside her in the bed. It was still early morning. She was truly enjoying waking up beside him each morning.

Evelyn breathed deeply through a smile. She’d never slept with anyone else, but she doubted anyone was as good as Lucian.

He sighed. “Tonight should be interesting.”

It was Jamie’s surprise party at Lucian’s sister’s. “Are you not looking forward to it?”

“Hmm, looking forward to it? Not necessarily, but I’m sure we’ll enjoy ourselves. I’ve made arrangements for you to get your hair and makeup done at the salon.”

That was good. She wasn’t very confident in her grooming abilities and would rather have a professional tell her what looked right. “Thank you.”

He leaned in and kissed the arch of her cheek. “I’ll be crossing paths with you at some point. I need a haircut.”

Her fingers ran through his dark hair flopped over his forehead. Strands of silver shined in the thick black mass, giving him a salt-and-pepper look at his temples. “Your hair
is
rather long at the moment.”

“I’m getting too old for longer hair. Makes me look like I’m clinging to my faded youth.”

She laughed and shoved him. “Shut up. You are
not
old.”

“Older than you.” His lips tickled the soft skin behind her ear and her toes curled.

“I like that you’re older.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I don’t see you as old, though. You’re . . . distinguished. I see your age as credibility. You deal with many people in business who are older than you. I think if you were my age you wouldn’t be taken as seriously. People my age don’t have the success you’ve accumulated.”

“Ah, but I was worth millions in my early twenties.”

“It’s not the same. That was your family’s legacy. This,” she waved her hand outward, “the hotel and everything you’ve created, that was fueled by what’s in here.” Her hand rested over his bare chest. “Not what was given to you.”

His lips curled in a soft smile, and his thick lashes lowered slightly. His voice became husky. “What you just said, the way you put that, it makes me feel good. It’s nice to hear someone give credit to the man behind the name for a change.”

She curled into him and nestled her nose against the stubble covering his throat. “You deserve it. You work very hard.”

“I’ll accept some of the credit, but not all. My family has contributed generations of visionaries to my success. Their success gave me the means to make my own.”

Her fingers brushed over his hair and tucked it behind his ear. “Just don’t forget to give credit to yourself from time to time.”

“Do you see how it works?” he whispered, dragging his fingers over her hip. “They gave me the means and I had the ambition to do great things with those means. You’re ambitious too, Evelyn. I like giving you the means to become something great. I believe you will someday be my wisest investment.”

Her breath caught. He hadn’t said it, but for the first time her mind slipped away from her, as though his thoughts snuck into her head and hijacked her own. She saw a startling vision of herself standing on the lush green grass at the estate, just in front of his mother’s lilacs. Riots of purple danced behind her in the perfumed breeze as she called for Lucian.

But Lucian wasn’t who came to her in that vision. No, it was a small boy with startling dark hair and crystal blue eyes, much like her own. The little boy ran to her and threw his arms around her waist, pressing his face to her abdomen, which was heavy and swollen under her clothes.

“Evelyn? You all right?”

“What?” The image vanished.

“Your cheeks got all flushed and you smiled in a way I never saw before.”

“I . . . I was just thinking.”

He smirked and pressed his lips to hers. Keeping them there, he whispered, “I like seeing you smile. You do it much more than you used to.”

They wound up rolling around in bed, sharing soft whispers and gentle, teasing caresses that eventually led to more, until it was time for her to rush out the door to see Jason. She hadn’t had time to shower, and through her entire lesson she found the scent of Lucian clinging to her skin incredibly distracting.

When she returned to the penthouse, Lucian was gone. She took a long shower, and as she was drying off there was a text from him on her phone.

Salon at 1:00. See you there. Love you.

She smiled once she carefully read the text. She sounded out the word
bossy
until auto correct got it.

Yes, bossy pants. Love you too.

When she arrived at the salon, she was immediately greeted with smiles and ushered to the back. The staff was wonderful. They always made her feel like royalty, which was so far beyond her wildest fantasies, she wondered if such treatment would ever stop feeling surreal.

Her hair was twirled into hundreds of tightly coiled curls and plastered around her face, which had been made up in a way that transformed her. The makeup artist had somehow made her lips into sharp peaks of red and her eyes seemed wider, accented with long lashes beneath narrow, groomed brows. She looked nothing like she normally did when done up, but didn’t question their expertise.

Lucian appeared in the reflection of the gilded mirror. Her belly pinched with excitement at the sight of him. His hair was damp and parted to perfection, long locks gone. She smiled. “Aren’t you handsome.”

The hairstylist greeted him and stepped aside as Lucian kissed her cheek. “You look stunning. Here.”

A small red velvet box, the size of a book, was placed in her lap. “What’s this?”

“For tonight. Open it.”

Her fingers flipped up the ornate bronze clasp, and the box opened with a creak. White netting and ivory-sequined detail filled the faded velvet. It had a scent of time, a little musty with the trace of oiled perfume. The scent reminded her of an empty church. The fabric pulled like a delicate web as she lifted it with her fingers. “What is it?”

“It’s for tonight.”

The hairstylist, Fernando, admired the gift. “Very nice. Authentic?”

“Yes,” Lucian said. “From an antiques dealer outside of the city.”

“May I?” Fernando asked.

Evelyn still wasn’t sure what it was. It looked like a decorated sack of sorts. She handed it to the hairdresser, who examined it admiringly and then placed it on her head. It was a hat or a band. The peculiar way he had done her hair suddenly came together. The reflection blinking back at her was a photograph from back in time.

Lucian smiled. “It’s a speakeasy party.”

“Speakeasy?” She knew that word. “Like from the days of Prohibition?”

“Yes. Everyone will be dressed in costumes from the 1920s era.”

“A costume party?”
How fun!
She’d never been to anything like that.

“Yes. I have your dress upstairs. I’ll wait while Fernando finishes up.”

Lucian disappeared into the front of the salon, and Fernando pinned the delicate cap over her hair. She looked like she’d fallen back in time. It was amazing how he’d transformed her with a few curls and some fancy makeup.

Lucian escorted her back to the penthouse. When they entered the master bedroom, a gorgeous ivory gown was hanging from the sconce. She gasped. It was . . . majestic.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. It’s so luxurious.” The soft material was like layered wisps of clouds running through her fingers, weighted with tiny beads. Detailed bits of lace showed here and there, and the vintage accents told of tired fingers and handmade thoughtfulness. She decided she liked this era.

“It was worn by a famous singer in the twenties. There are photographs of her performing on stage during that time.”

“Oh, Lucian . . .”

“Let me help you put it on.”

The material was so light, but layered in such a way the dress was weighted. She slipped out of her clothing, careful not to muss her hair, and he helped her with the dress. It slid over her bare skin like a silken sheath.

“Do I need a bra?”

“No. Nothing underneath.”

The gathered fabric hung heavily over her shoulders. Cool beads weighed on her skin. He buttoned up the back and turned her to the full-length mirror, his knuckles dragging seductively from her shoulder to her elbow.

It was spectacular. Sheer layers of ivory draped over her unfettered breasts, resembling the attire of a Greek goddess. The scoop over her chest was wide. Modesty was protected with an intricate shield of lace, beaded in swirls of roses and white peacock feathers.

Beneath the swoop of the neckline, the dress fit to her hips, mimicking the same intricate lace covering the span of her breasts. Midthigh, a seam traced to her legs, and billowy layers of the softest sheer silk gathered and poured to the ground like the clouded mist of a waterfall.

“You put the original wearer’s beauty to shame,” he said.

This was, perhaps, the first time she ever—truly—agreed with him in terms of her beauty. She looked . . . picturesque. A shock of vanity had her blushing. She cleared her throat. “What are you wearing?”

“A tux. Here, I have shoes and gloves for you.”

He bent to his knees and slid a pair of ivory closed toed shoes onto her feet. He carefully tightened the buckle and stood. “I’ll be dressed in a few minutes, and then we can be on our way.”

He disappeared into the closet, and she allowed herself a few vain moments to admire her reflection. Lucian emerged and she turned, drawing in a long breath. He had taken all of two minutes to trump her beauty.

Broad shoulders were encased in black. The cut of his jacket was different than his usual tuxedo. This one had tails. A starched white collar peeked over his white bow tie and a pristine, snowy vest with diamond-encrusted buttons covered his chest. “Shall we?”

“You look fantastic.”

Paying the compliment no mind, he filled his pockets with the usual items and mumbled a quick thank-you. As they walked through the lobby, guests stopped to stare. It was quite an experience. Rather than fidget and worry what onlookers were thinking, she held her chin up with newfound confidence she couldn’t recall discovering.

As they stepped onto the red runner with gold tassels, she looked for Dugan. He wasn’t there, nor was the limo. A Patras attendant beamed and opened the door to a sleek Mercedes that had to be close to a hundred years old.

“You rented an old car?”

“No. I own it.”

It was the color of the darkest chocolate. Long fenders bent like shapely legs. In her mind the car was definitely female. The wheels had polished white walls. Rounded headlights protruded from the chrome grille. It was all body with only a little cockpit left for passengers. If there was a roof, it was hidden. Caramel leather seats beckoned behind the slight metal-framed windshield.

“This may be the prettiest car I’ve ever seen.”

He squeezed her hand through her satin glove. “Get your license and it’s yours.”

She gaped at him. The doorman opened the passenger door—from the front, rather than the back the way car doors usually opened. She slid in and her dress shushed against the soft seat. He tucked her gown into the car and gently shut the door. Lucian slid in beside her. The car was already purring.

“Ready?”

She smiled and nodded and they were soon on their way. The summer heat cooled as it filtered around the windshield to tickle her hair and tease her shoulders. Driving a car without a top was loud in a hypnotic way. Lucian handled the car like he did everything else, with expertise and refined control.

She grinned as pedestrians stopped to admire them. A few people took pictures with their phones as they waited at traffic lights and for the first time in a long time, Evelyn thought about the paparazzi.

Lucian had been very careful to keep the papers out of sight. Trepidation curbed her curiosity as far as their cutting words went, so she didn’t mind his keeping the news clippings out of her sight. She knew the horrid things they were saying linked back to real shame, and she’d rather not witness how badly her personal business was being exploited when there wasn’t really a solution to stop their attacks. Lucian said he’d handle it, and she trusted him to do just that but knew the media hype wouldn’t vanish overnight.