A Jade's Trick (Lilly Black's Jaded Series Book 1) (17 page)

"Voilà!" Cain says as he sets my plate before me.  It looks amazing and tastes as good as it looks.

"I think you've missed your calling in life.  You should open a restaurant."

"I already have," he says with a sly grin.

"Are you talking about the vampire country club?"

"Would you like to know more about it?" he asks.

"Yes."

"I'll arrange a tour for you."

"A tour of a restaurant?"

"There's much more to it than what you saw.  How's tomorrow?  I can set it up for early afternoon and join you there for a late lunch before you have to be at work."  I don't recall telling him that I work tomorrow night.

As we eat, we talk more about lists, rules, and contracts, and when I rise to carry my dish to the sink, it pleases me when Cain stands automatically, a habit that has been ingrained in him by his upbringing.  I've only seen men like him in the restaurants I've worked in, so chivalrous and romantic, and though I don't need hearts and flowers, it's nice to be treated like a lady.

When we're finished, it's almost 5:00 am.  Cain stretches and yawns.

"I'm tired, too," I say.

"Let's go to bed," he says as if we're already set in our ways together.

When Lucy arrives at 2:00, I'm ready for anything.  I have to work tonight, and though I am supposed to wear my red, patent leather dress uniform on weekends, I decide to break the rule, putting on a low-cut, red mini dress instead.  Wearing one of the push-up bras Cain bought me underneath, I wouldn't normally leave the house during the day in something so revealing, but no one will see me before the sun goes down other than Cain and Lucy.

"Shall we go, Miss Lucien?" she asks, looking down at me, still taller than me even though I'm wearing 5" heels and she's wearing flats.

"Please call me Evan," I say as I grab my purse. I tuck my cell phone inside and follow Lucy to the curb.  She's driving a Rolls Royce that I've never seen before, but I'm relieved.  It's less impersonal than the limo, and if I am ever going to accept Lucy's weird relationship with Cain, I don't need yards of car between us.

Though we try to make small talk on the way, I'm thankful when we pull into the parking garage.  She opens my door for me, and though it feels weird for another woman to cater to me like this, I know Cain must want it this way or he would have instructed her otherwise.  His attention to detail borders on obsession.

"Are you ready?" she asks as we walk toward the elevator.

Ready for what exactly?

"Lucy, what is this place?" 

"You'll see."

"Is there something you're not telling me?" I ask. 

"Oh, yes," she says with a mischievous smile as she slides the card key, and the button for the 11th floor lights up, leaving me full of curiosity and trepidation.  Upstairs, she leads me down the dark hallway to the black dining room.

"Could we talk for a minute first?" she asks.

"Sure," I say, uncomfortable as hell as I take a seat opposite her in the booth.

"I just want you to know me, Evan.  Every woman Cain dates wants me gone," she says.

Of course I want you gone.  You're beautiful and utterly devoted to Cain. 
My
Cain
.

"I actually kind of enjoyed it...until now," she says.  "I don't want you to hate me, Evan, because if there is anyone in the world you can trust with Cain, it's me."  She's calling him Cain, not Mr. Ballantyne.

"Lucy, I..."

"Please don't.  I know what you're thinking and I get it, but I swear I don't want Cain and he doesn't want me."

"You do see how that's hard to believe?" I ask.

"Yeah.  It's hard to believe that any woman doesn't want him.  You'd have to be a blood relative to resist him, but that's what it's like with us.  We kissed once, a long time ago, and it was like kissing a brother."

"Why did you...I'm sorry.  It's none of my business."  I really want to know, but asking was weak.

"I'm sure it wasn't anything like what you're imagining.  Believe me." 

"I have no reason not to believe you, Lucy." 
No rational reason, anyway.

"Good," she says.  "Because there's one more thing I need to tell you. The night Cain met you at Prometheus...I...I was the reason you almost fell in the pool."

"Excuse me?"

"I was waiting in the limo, and he called me to come up and nudge you."

"That son-of-a-bitch!" I have replayed the incident in my head a thousand times wondering how I missed that corner when I could walk through that place blindfolded.  Lucy swears that he has never done anything like that before, and as we laugh about it, I realize I'm probably going to like her in spite of myself.

"So," I begin ready to find out what is behind the velvet curtain, "are you going to tell me what this place is, Lucy?"

"I'm going show you." She picks up the silver remote control from the table, presses a button, and the velvet drapes retract revealing a room of well over a thousand square feet, but it isn't the spaciousness that makes my chin drop.  It's what this room is - a massive, overly-equipped, leather-drenched, BDSM dungeon, and it's absolutely beautiful.

"Do you like it?" Lucy asks anxiously.  I do, and it's exactly what I suspected I would find on this tour, but now that it's tangible, I don't feel the way I expected to feel.  I feel hurt and humiliated.

"Take me home."

"But..."

"Take me home," I repeat, harsher this time.

"Yes, Miss Lucien," she says, reverting to addressing me formally in her confusion.  I know I should explain myself, but at this moment I don't give a damn about the progress she and I have made or what she thinks of my behavior.  I stare blankly out the window as she drives, hoping to make it home before the anger swelling inside me turns to tears.

When we get to my house, I jump out of the car to find Cain standing on the porch waiting for me.  I knew she was driving too slow!

"Fuck you, Lucy!" I screech, furious with her for telling him.

"It's okay, Lucy," Cain says.  "I can take it from here."

"Fuck you, too, Cain!" I yell as I jam my house key in the door and slip in, trying to close it in his face.  He's too strong, putting his weight against the door to force it open.  I let go suddenly, hoping to make him to fall, but of course, he's too graceful for that.  Bastard!

"Evan, are you going to tell me..." I don't hear him finish as I rush into my bedroom and slam the door closed.  This time I'm quick enough to lock him out, but the interior door locks in this house are fucking useless!  He picks it and lets himself in.

"Get out of my house!" I yell, picking up the first thing that catches my eye to throw at him, which happens to be the heavy vase of aging calla lilies.  Grabbing it at the bottom, I spill the water and flowers all over the floor and hurl it at him, smashing it to pieces against my bedroom door.

"For fuck's sake, Evan, stop!" Cain demands impatiently, pulling me to him, and though I fight with everything I have, he's too powerful for me.  He pushes me against the wall, trapping me there, and overwhelmed by his 6'4" frame, I feel so safe in his arms, it breaks me.

Goddamn it!
  I did not want him to see me cry over this, but what's done is done.  I can't stop the tears, and he can't change the fact that his actions have proven what I've feared all along.  I'm not good enough for him, and when he's done with me, he'll throw me away like trash because I am trash.

"Shhh...it's okay," he whispers.  He doesn't tell me not to cry, he just holds me and lets me do it, and now that I've given up every chance I had to rein in this breakdown, I'm disgusted with myself.  This isn't me.  I don't cry over men, and I sure as fuck don't cry in the arms of the son-of-a-bitch responsible, but even as I hate him, I ache for him.  I want him take charge and make everything okay.

"Let me go," I demand weakly.

"Never."

"How could you treat me like that?" 

"Treat you like what?" 

"Like a whore!" I shout.

"What are you talking about?" Cain asks, loosening his grip as he steps back to look me in the face.  I pull away, rushing to the other side of the room, putting the bed between us.

"Are you serious?  How many women have you fucked in that dungeon, Cain?"

"I had the entire place remodeled for you!  Everything in there down to the paint on the walls is new for you!" 

"So you repainted the bondage cross you tied all your submissive whores to for little, old me?  Gee, thanks, master!" 

"Goddamn it, Evan!  I said everything - the furniture, the equipment, the fucking chandelier - I personally selected it all down to the last scrap of leather for you!"

"Fuck you!  You have no right to be pissed at me!"

"I have every right to be pissed!  You're acting insane!"

"Oh, really?  Then let me get this straight.  I have invited you into my home and my bed, and in exchange you prepare a place for me where you tie women up and beat them like slaves?  What a fucking honor!" 

"Evan!" Cain snaps, his hands clenched into fists, but just as I think things are about to get out of control, he exhales and runs his hands through his hair.

"You're right," he says, holding out his arms for me to come to him.  When I resist, too stubborn to give an inch, he comes to me, sitting on the bed and pulling me to stand between his legs.

"I'm sorry, baby.  I wasn't thinking," he says, looking up at me, his eyes a washed-out blue.  "The only reason I haven't taken you to my apartment is because it's been under construction.  I should have told you, but I just assumed that me staying here with you was enough to show you how much I want you in my life."  I don't say anything.  I want to believe him, but if he's telling me the truth, then I'll have to admit that I've really made an ass of myself.

"What you and I have is new to me, too, Ev," he continues.  "And I'm going to fuck up.  Just give me a chance to explain myself next time before you throw a vase at me.  Okay?"  He smiles up at me, and I melt.

"Okay," I say, and he pulls me into his lap, kissing me on top of my head, holding me like a child.

"It never even crossed my mind that I had taken you to my dungeon before my home, but now that you've drawn my attention to it, I can see how that would make you feel.  From now on, if I'm being a thoughtless asshole, just tell me.  You don't need to..."

"Act like a psycho bitch," I admit bashfully.

"Not my words, but yeah."  We laugh, and I love how he's made my humiliation in the aftermath of yet another irrational fit just fade away.  "Listen.  They're working through the weekend to try to get it finished by Monday, but if you want, I'll take you there right now.  You just have to change clothes."

"Why?"

"There's a construction crew in my apartment, Evan, and your cleavage looks spectacular in that dress," he says, his hands suddenly cupping my tits.  He kisses my neck, kneading my breast as one hand slides down the front of me, pushing the hem of the dress between my legs, and the palm of his hand bearing down against my clit through the fabric.

"It can wait until Monday," I whisper as I lean my head back, reveling in his touch as it makes me forget everything that drove me to this fight.  An urgency grows between us, and when Cain works his pants down far enough to release his cock, he pulls my panties over to the side and drives himself inside me.  He controls me with his hands on my hips, fucking me while he sits on the bed with me practically sitting in his lap, my legs spread over his, but this isn't allowing him to fuck me hard enough. I want more.

I stand, bringing him with me as I walk my hands down my legs until I'm bent over, holding my ankles as he slams him body into mine.  He's rough and intense, swiftly taking me to edge, desperate to come but longing for something deeper, more connected.  I reach back, grabbing his balls and teasing them until I feel his cock swell inside me as I take him to the point of no return.  He erupts in a loud, sudden burst, taking me with him, crying his name as he drives into me so hard I nearly fall over, but he holds me up, his hands on my hips as my legs tremble, weakened, taxed, the tension of the fight spent and replaced by euphoria.

Makeup sex is so, very good.