Flesh: Part Twelve (The Flesh Series Book 12) (3 page)

“
Holy
shit, you're wearing makeup.” I practically burst out laughing.

He narrows his eyes
at me, not amused. His hand moves to the place where I bit him, and
he brushes it lightly with his fingertip. “It's important to
keep up appearances.”

“
Do
you always wear makeup?” I lean in to look at his face better.

His jaw tenses, and
I realize that I'm starting to piss him off, which makes me instantly
pull back. “No, Amy. I don't always wear makeup. Only when
upset girls decide to bite my face.”

“
Sorry.”
I sink down into my chair a bit.

“
It's
alright.” He brushes the place where I bit him a final time
before dropping his hand back to his lap. “I kind of deserved
it.”

“
Kinda,”
I huff. “You try to force yourself on me and then say you kinda
deserved to be bitten.”

“
To
be fair, you pretty much kicked my ass for it, so I think we're
even.”

“
Kicked
your ass?” I parrot back and then laugh again.

“
Yes.”
He smirks. “You bit my lip and broke skin. My leg is bruised.
And the jewels haven't exactly recovered either.”

I practically snort
wine out of my nose at that last part. “Oh lord, your poor
jewels. I'll kiss them better later if you're a good boy.” I
wink at him.

“
Will
you, now?” He picks up his glass and swirls the deep red,
giving me a look that wipes the grin right off of my face and brings
a blush to my cheeks.

Can't get
distracted. Can't get distracted. I still need to know why he won't
leave Flesh.

I cough, trying to
break his spell of seduction that's quickly driving my mind to dirty
places. “Flesh,” I stutter. “Why won't you quit?”

“
I
told you, for our relationship to work, for me to give you what you
want and for me to still get what I need, I can't give it up.”
He takes a sip of wine.

“
That
doesn't make sense to me though.” I shake my head. “I'll
give you whatever you want as long as it's within my power. At least,
I'm willing to try.”

“
Amy.”
He sucks a breath in between clenched teeth. “There are things
that I do to people there that I would never in a million years want
to do to you. You're very...precious to me. The thought of seeing you
hurt the way that I need to...” His face sets with agitation.
“No. The answer is no.”

“
No?”
I quirk my head back. “Lucian, this isn't optional.”

“
And
neither is me leaving Flesh.”

When he looks up at
me, it feels like his gaze is piercing right through me, shooting
through my heart and nailing me to the wall. This is what I feared
would happen—what I knew would happen. I'm not enough for him.
This isn't going to work out.

My desire to be
intimate with him is lost in the seriousness of the situation. I pull
my napkin off of my lap, ball it up, and set it on the table before
pushing my chair back.

“
What
are you doing?” his tone is suddenly alarmed.

“
What
does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving.” I stand and pull my
purse off of the back of the chair. “I came here so that we
could discuss the potential for us having a relationship. You don't
want to budge on your stance. I won't budge on mine. This
conversation is over. We obviously aren't good for each other and
can't be together.”

“
Amy,
wait.” He stands to stop me.

I give pause,
looking at him. “It's Flesh or me. You have to choose.”

The panic in his
expression is almost palpable. “Amy, you don't...I can't...If I
did to you the things that I do to those women, you would run the
other way. Fast.”

“
Try
me.” I cross my arms over my chest.

“
No.”
He shakes his head.

I throw my hands up
in annoyance. “Then that's it. This is over. Thanks for dinner.
I'm sorry I didn't get to eat much of it.” I head to the door,
but he catches me by the wrist. It's a classic Lucian Reddick move. I
know what he's going to do next, and I'm not in the mood for it.

“
I
don't want to do those things to you because I care about you.”

I turn to him. “If
they're so bad, then why do you want to do them to anyone?”

“
Because
I have a lot of pain inside, and I need to get it out somehow. This
is how I do it.”

“
That
doesn't make you a very good Dom.” I jerk my arm away from him,
and surprisingly, he doesn't try to grab me again.

He licks his lips,
avoiding my gaze. “It doesn't make me a bad Dom. They want me
to do it to them. They get off to it. And I get what I need from it
as well. It works. But as I said, they're not things that I would
ever want to do to someone I care about. Especially not to you.”
He finally looks at me, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes.

I take a deep breath
and wrap my arms around myself. Now it's my turn to look away. I want
to help him. I want to be his one and only—the person he comes
to for everything, the one who fills all of his emotional needs. But
to do that, I'm going to have to take a big leap of faith, to try
something that I'm becoming increasingly more worried that I won't
like. And at this point, I'm not even sure if he'll let me try.

“
Lucian,”
I hesitate. “If this is going to work. If this has any hope of
working, I need to see every part of you. The good, the bad, the
ugly. I want to know what you do to those girls.”

He opens his mouth
to speak but then doesn't, taking a moment to gather his words. “No,
Amy. It's bad enough that you know this about me. I never wanted you
to know.”

I step forward and
slide my hand into his before closing my eyes. “If you're not
going to tell me, then show me. Let me judge for myself if it's
something I can handle or not.”

When I open my eyes,
he's grinning. But it's not a playful grin or even happy. If there
was any more sarcasm behind his expression, I might die from an
overdose.

“
You
couldn't even handle the mild things I do, love.” His tone is
bordering on arrogance as if he's actually proud of how intense he
can get. It's a bit annoying and unnerving. Just seconds ago he was
afraid of my reaction. Now he's basically calling me a pussy.

“
Try
me.” I cock a half-smile.

“
I
don't have to try you to know. Your pain tolerance is low and don't
say it's not because I've read it on your original chart from Flesh
at least half a dozen times.” His face goes serious.

My
mouth falls open. I'm astonished that he has looked at my chart that
many times since we met.

“
It
might have gotten a little higher.” There's no masking the
uncertainty in my voice. I'm definitely trying to put on a brave
front, and we both know it.

His
grin broadens into a smile, and this time it's definitely amused. He
leans forward to kiss my forehead, and I wince away though I don't
know why. “See, already scared that I might hurt you.”

“
Am
not!” I pout.

He
sighs, staring at me thoughtfully. “Can't we just leave this as
it is? I'm giving you most of what you want. Let me have this.”

I
don't want him to have it though. Because if I let him have it, it
means that I'll always be sharing him in one way or another. That
thought hurts. I should be enough for him.

“
No.”
I cross my arms over my chest again. “I want to see what you do
to those girls. I want to know that...”
That
you're not seducing them. That you're not touching them
inappropriately. That you don't look at them the same way that you
look at me.
All
impossible things when I'm switching places with them. Because it's
not the same. It will never be the same.

“
I
don't want you to know.” He shakes his head slowly.

“
Then
I should leave.” I nod decidedly. If he won't let me at least
attempt to bear this weight for him. If he doesn't even want to give
me a chance to try to be his everything, then I'd rather be nothing
to him.

His
expression softens. “You have to be the most stubborn woman
I've ever met.”

“
Touche.”
I roll my eyes. “Minus the woman part, of course.”

I
expect him to finally give up. To let me go. We both know this isn't
working. It's a constant battle to make each other happy, and it's
pretty obvious at this point that we're never going to win. But then
he says, “I'll show you.”

“
You
will?” My heart leaps in my chest, half from joy and half from
fear. Part of me knows that I just signed a check that my ass
probably can't cash, but I don't care. He's giving in to me, and at
this moment, it's all that matters.

“
After
we eat.” He rounds the table to sit back down. “The food
is getting cold. That's one thing I hate about lobster. Leave it for
five minutes and it turns room temperature.”

I could not care
less about the lobster. I'm so overjoyed that I've made some progress
on the topic of Lucian and Flesh. If I can just endure whatever he
does to me, then most of our problems will be solved. He'll give up
Flesh, and we can finally have something close to a normal
relationship.

CHAPTER THREE

For as much
conversation as we had at the beginning of our meal, the rest of
dinner is spent in silence. I stare across the table at Lucian while
he eats. He looks contemplative like he's going over in his head
exactly what he's going to do to me. My mind is aflutter with
possibilities as well.

Every BDSM video
I've ever seen plays through my head like a montage of pain and
pleasure. Janice has shown me some pretty seedy stuff. Humiliation
the likes of which no person should ever have to endure. Lashings
that about broke the skin. Needles and knives and a dozen other
things I'd never want to try. Am I really ready for this? Am I ready
to see Lucian Reddick's worst?

I try not to think
about it as I push broccoli around on my plate. Even though I'm not
hungry, I force the lobster down. If my stomach didn't feel so tight
from anticipation, I would probably be savoring every bite. Lucian
knocked the ball out of the park again with his cooking. How he
manages to make healthy food taste delectable, I'll never understand,
but I'm very appreciative of it.

“
You should
finish your food.” He nods at my plate. “You're going to
need your strength.”

I scowl at the
broccoli like it's my enemy before doing what I'm told. Lord knows
what I'll need my strength for, but I'm not going to doubt him.
Besides, it feels like from this point on, or at least for the rest
of the afternoon, my goal should be to please him, to show him that I
have what it takes to give him what he needs in all facets of life.

Once the meal is
done, Lucian takes our plates to the kitchen, and I go to the
bathroom to wash up. Already, sweat is dotting my brow. My nerves are
starting to get the better of me, and I have to take a few minutes to
squash them down, to ground myself in the realization that this needs
to be done. I wanted to see. I have to see. There's no backing out
now.

When I step out of
the bathroom, Lucian is waiting in the hall for me. His expression is
deadpan. There's no kindness in his eyes, just the slightest hint of
concern. He seems a bit nervous, though I can't really tell.

“
Come.”
He takes me by the hand and leads me to a door in the hallway.

My mind instantly
flashes back to the time when I came to take pictures of Lucian's
house for his interior design project. This particular door was
locked then, and he told me that it was one of the rooms that didn't
need to be redecorated.

There's no mystery
to what's behind the door now. It's a dungeon. I know that before he
takes the key out of his pocket and slides it into the lock. If he
had hoped I would gasp with shock, then he'll be sorely disappointed.