Coming Home

  When she finished he shut the book. “We’re done?” she asked.

  “Looks that way. Lucian asked that I wrap things up.”

  “Oh.” She should’ve never given him Jason’s number.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow at ten, so no homework tonight.”

  “You’re coming tomorrow?”

  “Yes, but not again until Monday afternoon. I’d like to see you do the pages I circled in your workbook by then. And I have another assignment for you, a sort of project.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “I want you to start texting. No abbreviations, real words only. You have a smartphone, so there’s auto correct. Seeing the full spelling pop up will help with your recognition and increase your fluency. You’ll start picking up on sight words from the first syllables. I want you to try to send a text every hour you’re awake. Do you know how?”

  She shook her head and he reached for her phone. He explained how to open the little speech bubble icon and plugged Lucian’s name in from her contacts. “Once the message is opened, all you have to do is click on the line and type your text. Try writing ‘On my way.’”

  He slid her the phone and she searched the keys. “They aren’t in order.” Where the hell was the O?

  “You’ll get used to that after a while. Just take it one word at a time.”

  After several minutes of hunting for the right letters, she typed “On my wa,” and then auto correct plugged in the y she didn’t know went with “way.”

  “Good. Now hit Send.”

  She did, and her phone made a little vip sound that sent a little thrill through her. “I did it!”

  “Yup.” Jason stood and collected his things. Her phone whistled and she frowned at the screen. “Did he reply?”

  She slid her thumb over the screen and there was a text from Lucian. “It says . . .” The words were big. “I can’t read it.”

  Jason looked at the phone and frowned. “We’ll have to tell him to start with smaller words. That first word is anxiously. You try reading the rest. Remember to break them down.”

  She sounded out the next word. “A-wait-ing you.”

  Jason smiled and she grinned as well, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “Better get going.”

  They parted at the elevators and she traveled up to the penthouse suites. The private elevator announced her arrival with a soft chime and her phone whistled. Reaching in the pocket of her shorts, she withdrew the cell just as she slid her key into the door. It was another text from Lucian.

  Stop

  She stilled, knowing the word stop. The door shut behind her and her phone whistled again. Her feet remained planted in the entrance of the suite just by the coat closet.

  Clothes off

  Her lip curled in a half smile as her neck stretched, trying to spot him. His tie coiled in a circle on the small accent table to her right. He was home.

  She removed her shirt and shorts and toed off her flip-flops. Her thumbs glided under the band of her panties, and her arms slid out of her bra. Lastly, she undid her ponytail.

  Her fingers snatched up her phone from the table and texted back. It took forever to find the keys. She tried to type done, but the word didn’t look right. So she went with a word she knew.

  off

  She heard the soft buzz of his phone receiving the text and assumed he was at his desk. A moment later, her phone whistled.

  Let me see

  She smirked and left the phone on the table as she slowly walked into the sitting area. Lucian sat behind his mahogany desk, fingers steepled beneath his chin, collar undone. He looked handsome as hell.

  “Hi.”

  His gaze traveled over her form. “You learned to text,” he said, smiling.

  “I did.”

  “I like it.” He slid his chair back. Warm sunlight filtered through the enormous glass wall behind him, catching highlights in his ebony hair. “Come here.”

  Her bare feet pressed into the carpet as she stepped around his desk. Papers were piled haphazardly over the surface. Her body stood in the space just outside of the V of his knees. His gaze roamed up her legs and settled on her breasts. He didn’t move, just watched her.

  “Do you remember the first time we met?”

  How could she forget? He terrified her. She thought he was a guest at the hotel and, because she had inadvertently knocked over some things on his desk, was going to get her fired. “Yes.”

  “I’ve left something for you in the guest room. Go put it on and come back here.”

  She turned and followed the hall to the spare room. When she entered, there was an object sitting on the bed in a pile of folded satin that looked like an animal. Approaching the bed, she saw it was a feather duster. She laughed.

  Her fingers pushed it aside and lifted the satin, discovering a maid’s uniform. It was nothing like the uniform she’d worn while employed at Patras. No, this was sinfully provocative.

  The bodice was a whaleboned black corset. The skirt was more of a ballerina tutu made up of crinoline with a short lace apron tied up with ruched bows. Beneath the costume sat a matching lace bonnet and wide-net thigh highs topped with bows. Looking down, she spotted a very dangerous pair of platform pumps.

  Is he kidding with the shoes?

  She picked them up and her eyes widened. Clearly a man invented them. The heels reached from the tip of her middle finger to her wrist, easily over six inches. The soles were devil red. It simply wasn’t natural for a foot to arch that far.

  She sat on the bed and shimmied into the costume. Cool air brushed her bare cheeks peeking out the ruffled skirt as she pulled on each thigh high. Taking a deep breath, she slid her feet into the shoes. Someone could get a nosebleed at this altitude.

  She grabbed her bonnet and wobbled over to the mirror. After fitting the band to her head and finding her balance she—carefully—walked back to the common area, grabbing her feather duster along the way.

  She entered the room, and in her best French accent, she said, “Bonjour, Monsieur Patras. You called for housekeeping?” She didn’t know where the French words came from. She supposed, after so many months at the hotel, she’d picked it up from some of the staff.

  Great satisfaction filled her as his lips parted and he breathed, “Jesus.”

  She smiled. “Shall I dust for you?”

  He cleared his throat and shifted his weight in his seat. “Yes. I’d like you to dust my desk.”

  Trying hard not to snap her neck or break an ankle, she did her best impression of a sexy walk. When she was within arm’s length of him and his desk, she pouted. “Oh, but I have strict instructions not to touch Monsieur Patras’s desk.”

  “You’ll have to be careful not to make a mess.”

  She smiled over her shoulder and bent enough to give him a peek at her bare behind as she proceeded to dust around his many papers. A ghostlike touch traced up the inside of her leg, and she paused. Her body arched over the right side of the desk and she continued to dust. A sheaf of papers on the far left corner tumbled to the ground, and she stilled.

  “You knocked over my papers,” he said. She knew full well he deliberately pushed them over on purpose. “Better pick them up.”

  She lowered herself to the ground and crawled to the papers. After stacking them in some sort of order, she slid them onto the desk. “I’m so sorry, Monsieur. Perhaps I can make it up to you?”

  He grinned. “How?”

  “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Take out my cock.”

  Her belly tightened as she crawled between his knees and undid his zipper. He was hard when she pulled him out. She looked to him for instruction.

  “Put me in your mouth.”

  Leaning forward, she engulfed him with her mouth and proceeded to suck him off. H
e didn’t touch her as she worked his flesh. When his length twitched over her tongue like he was about to come, he said, “Stop.”

  His cock slid from her lips as she settled back on her heels. Something hot and liquid tightened in the pit of her belly.

  “Do you like sucking my cock, Ms. Keats?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He growled. “I’d like a scotch on the rocks.”

  She rose from the floor. Her shoes elevated her, and the netting of the stockings sensitized her legs. The short skirt rustled, and cool air touched her sex as she carefully sauntered to the bar. Fishing out three cubes of ice, she poured the amber liquid and carefully carried the glass back to the desk. She handed it to him, but he didn’t take it.

  “Straddle me.”

  Glancing at the desk, she looked back at him askance.

  “Put it on the coaster.” She did as instructed.

  Balancing on one wobbly foot, she lifted her leg over his knees and lowered her body. He caught her hips and drew her close. His cock stood between them as he reached for her bodice and split the fabric wide with a quick tug. The satin material shredded to her bellybutton. She gasped and his hands cupped her breasts, fingers brushed over her nipples until they drew into sharp little points.

  He growled and released her, reaching around for the glass and taking a sip. Her eyes watched the curve of his throat, his Adam’s apple slowly rising as he took a long swallow of scotch. He placed the glass back on the desk and leaned forward to capture her nipple in his mouth.

  She hissed at the cool touch of his tongue and realized he’d stolen an ice cube from the glass. The brush of frozen water to her heated flesh sent chills up her spine and down her chest. She shivered and he chuckled as he moved to her other breast.

  He played with her nipples until she felt like she might come. His fingers tugged and pulled at the nubs while his frosty mouth teased. She rocked over him, grinding against his cock, and he gripped her hips. “Are you stealing from me?”

  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 f
ace 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?”