In Love With Lucy (NSFW) (10 page)

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Lucy, but I was really worried when I woke up and you were gone without a word or a note. Then you didn’t answer your phone and I was afraid that you’d had a family emergency or something.”

I blinked again, still unsure of how to respond to a warm, approachable Chris Barden. Thank God, he’d never shown me this side of him before or I would never have made it three years without jumping his bones. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, I spoke, “No, no emergency. I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so soundly.”

Lies, lies, lies. Everything I said was a lie, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

He smiled softly at me and I almost melted at his feet. I would have if he hadn’t been holding onto my waist so tightly.

“I can understand how this might be strange for you,” he said quietly, smoothing a rogue wave from my face. I smiled up at him, lulled into a sense of security by his behavior. “Why don’t I come over for dinner tonight and we can talk about this a little more?”

The smile froze on my face. That was exactly what I
didn’t
need. In fact, what I did need was at least two or three days to rebuild my defenses against this new, warm, and open Chris Barden. I could handle the cold, distant, yet sexy as hell man. I’d been dealing with him for three years now. This new side of Chris, I had no idea what to do with.

Before I could school my expression, he saw it and his grip on me tightened. “Lucy?”

I thought wildly, trying to come up with a good reason why he shouldn’t come to my apartment tonight. If he showed up, I couldn’t escape. If he fell asleep in my bed, I would find myself sinking deeper and deeper into an intimacy I wasn’t at all sure I could handle.

Before I could find a way to put him off, Chris seemed to realize what was going on inside my head. His ability to read me was a trait I both loved and hated. When I was grumpy or enduring PMS, it saved his life more than once, and I appreciated it. Times like now, when I wanted to lie but couldn’t think fast enough on my feet, I hated it. I knew I wasn’t a convincing liar because I so rarely did it.

I made a vow then and there to start telling lies on a daily basis so I would never get stuck in this kind of situation again.

“Would you prefer I not come over tonight?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

I bit my lip. Before I could answer, he laughed, but it was devoid of humor.

He removed his hands from around my waist, the implacable man I had known for the last three years returning. Even though I courted this, I mourned the loss of the affectionate, sweet Chris Barden I’d just glimpsed.

“That’s fine. Absolutely fine. I can see I misunderstood.” He turned stiffly and stalked toward the door.

I watched him, as tears filled my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to hide the fact that I was now about to cry. Jesus, I was acting like a nitwit, completely unsure of what to say or do. Before I could call him back like the weak-willed creature I was, he stopped short and spun around, marching back toward me.

I backpedaled until my back hit the cabinet, but he just kept coming. I opened my mouth to tell him to stop but the words never left my lips. Instead, he scooped me up in his arms, my feet leaving the floor, and my hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. When his lips crashed into mine, fierce and possessive, I moaned. His tongue thrust past my lips and teeth, forcing me to respond.

Just as quickly as he grabbed me, Chris set me away from him, leaving me leaning weakly against the counter. His eyes burned with triumph and something akin to desperation.

“You can lie to me, Lucy. Hell, you can even lie to yourself, but your body doesn’t lie. You want me and I want you. I will be at your apartment tonight at eight. Wear the green sweater dress. We’re going to dinner and we will talk.”

With that statement, he strode out of the kitchenette. I was still trying to pull myself together thirty seconds later when he reappeared in the doorway, briefcase in hand.

“I’ll be with Landen all day. Be ready by eight tonight, or there will be consequences.”

I swallowed hard, unable to respond, as he left the office. I knew, deep in my bones, that things were about to get very, very sticky, and not in a fun way.

I dropped into
my usual chair at lunch and all four of my friends looked me over.

“You look like hell,” Chelsea stated baldly.

I made a face at her. “Gee, thanks, Chels. So nice to know that my friends will go out of their way to make a girl feel good about herself.”

She threw a chip at my head, but I dodged it half-heartedly. “Weirdo. Seriously, what’s going on? Are you getting your period or something?”

I shook my head. “No, I slept with Chris.”

The entire table fell silent.

Suddenly, Tanya reached out and covered my hand with hers. “Was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it?”

I stared at her, not comprehending the question. “What?”

“The sex was bad, wasn’t it?” she clarified.

My cheeks burned and I shook my head. “Um, no, the sex was actually…um…”

Chelsea squealed. “Omigod. It must have been better than good if Ms. Lucy Daniels can’t even form a coherent sentence about it.”

My blush immediately disappeared as I scowled at her. “You know I don’t like to dish the dirty details.”

Chelsea threw another chip at me, this one I snagged out of the air and launched back at her, beaning her in the nose.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, rubbing the tip of her nose. “I wasn’t even trying to hit you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, so the sex was good?” Tanya asked, as though she was confused.

I nodded, the blush returning slightly. “Yeah. It was very good.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “He wanted me to spend the night.”

Chelsea threw her hands in the air. “Well he should just be fucking shot, then!”

I glared at her again. “You don’t understand, Chels. I just wanted to get back in the game, enjoy the chemistry for a while, and then move on. I thought that’s what he wanted too. I mean, this is Christopher James Barden we’re talking about. Most of his relationships don’t outlast a box of Godiva the week of my period. A few weeks, maximum. Don’t you think it’s a little strange that he was pushing me to spend the night with him?”

Chelsea nodded, as did Tanya and Yancy. Grier, however, was looking at me as though she were equally frustrated and saddened by my words.

“What?” I asked her.

She shook her head slightly. “You have no idea, do you?”

I hunched my shoulders at her censuring tone. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think Chris has dated anyone in close to a year. In fact, I think last winter was the last time I heard you bitch about one of his women stopping by the office to chat. You bitched about those women a lot, by the way, more than a normal assistant typically would.”

I knew what she was getting at, but I ignored her. I didn’t need Grier and her freakish mind reading capabilities right now. Instead, I focused on remembering when one of Chris’ hoochies had called or come by. I realized she was right. The last time had been right after the new year, about fourteen months ago.

I scowled at Grier. “Okay, so he’s been in a slump. What’s your point?”

She merely shook her head, again looking disappointed and frustrated with my response. “You obviously aren’t ready to discuss it like an adult.”

Her statement so closely mirrored my own internal dialogue that I couldn’t meet her eyes. I knew I was acting childishly, but I hadn’t been expecting this.

“Okay, so the sex was good, he wanted you to spend the night, so far I’m not hearing anything that would make you look like you haven’t slept in days,” Tanya said.

I sighed. “I may have snuck out at 2 a.m.”

The girls all gasped. I ignored them and continued.

“And he may have been extremely pissed off about that. In fact, he may have told me that we’re having dinner tonight at eight and that there will be
consequences
if I’m not there.”

I didn’t hear a peep from my friends. I looked around the table at them, waiting for someone to speak.

Finally it was Yancy to voice the general opinion of the table. “You are so screwed. You might as well enjoy a fancy dinner and the ride.”

I stared at the rest of my friends, completely unsurprised that they were nodding their heads in agreement. The traitors.

Still, I knew they were right. I was going to that dinner tonight and I would enjoy the sex while I could because I had a sense of foreboding that this entire fling with Chris would end messily. They always did.

I
checked the lasagna
in the oven one last time and it smelled divine. Even though I knew Chris would probably wouldn’t be very interested in eating dinner, I’d made garlic bread. Garlic breath be damned. A salad was already put together and in the fridge, waiting to be dressed.

I wasn’t wearing the green sweater dress Chris requested. Instead I wore a washed-out black fitted tee and a pair of jeans I’d had since college. They were faded, soft, and ripped across one knee and under my left butt cheek. The jeans followed every curve of my hips and ass and were incredibly comfortable.

I had a bottle of red wine open and breathing on the counter and I was tempted to pour myself a glass to drink while I waited for Chris. Now that we’d had sex and I knew the devastation he could wreak on my body, my nerves were stretched taut at the thought of seeing him again.

I jumped when he knocked at the door. I knew it was him by the three short, authoritative raps, as efficient and in control as the rest of him. I went to the door and put my eye to the peephole. Though I was certain it was Chris, I had lived alone too long not to be cautious. He stood outside my apartment, dressed in the same sharp black suit he’d been wearing that morning, his hands in his pockets.

I took a deep breath and pulled the door open. His eyes moved over my body, taking in my high ponytail, casual clothes, and bare feet. When his gaze met mine, Chris looked annoyed.

“I told you we were going out to dinner.”

I raised an eyebrow at his domineering attitude. “Exactly, you told. I didn’t agree, so you’re damn lucky I’m even home. I was tempted to ignore your directive and find something else to do this evening. However, I would like to speak with you, so I made dinner for us.”

He looked surprised as he stepped into the apartment.

“It smells delicious,” he murmured as he followed me to the kitchen and removed his jacket.

I looked across the counter at him as I grabbed a wine glass. “Would you like some wine?”

He nodded. I poured him a glass, setting it on the bar in front of him. I watched as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves back before he loosened and removed his tie. It was fascinating to see his corporate armor come off.

I mentally shook myself and poured a second glass of wine. We stared at each other in silence as we sipped.

“How long until dinner is ready?” he asked.

“Ten minutes or so.”

“Are we going to sit here and stare at one another the entire time or did you want to talk?”

I frowned at his sardonic question. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

Chris sighed heavily and I suddenly saw the lines of fatigue around his eyes and mouth. I knew he had a long day on very little sleep. Then I stiffened my spine. I hadn’t slept well either and I was done tiptoeing around this. For the last three years, I’d always spoken my mind with him, now was not the time to start holding back.

“Look, Chris, you’re the one who wanted to talk tonight. You’re the one who got angry because I wanted to put a little space between us. I’m accommodating
you
. Now, would you like to tell me why you were so angry at me this morning? I left last night because I was uncomfortable and I had every right to do so.”

His light blue eyes were intent as he studied me. Finally, he spoke, “There are several things in that little monologue I would like to discuss. First of all, I was angry because you disappeared in the middle of the night and didn’t answer your phone this morning when I called. I think you’ll have to agree that my concern was legitimate.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but didn’t interrupt. “Secondly, if you were so uncomfortable with the idea of staying with me last night, why did you agree to it?” He lifted a hand to stop me when I opened my mouth. “And, lastly, if you wanted space between us, why not be upfront about it? If you want a fuck buddy, I’m happy to comply.”