Pierced (25 page)

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Authors: Sydney Landon

BOOK: Pierced
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“I didn’t know she was living with you. That’s a big step.” I consider Max more than just my lawyer; he is also a friend. As such, he has been privy to much of my sordid past. He is still dealing with one big aspect of that past. Like Aidan, I know he is beyond surprised to find a woman other than a fuck-and-roll in my life. He is also friends with Aidan, so there is little doubt he knew of Lia before I spoke with him.

I shift impatiently, ready to end the conversation before it gets too personal. I’m a bit like a science experiment to those who know me. The question always seems to be, ‘how many times will Lucian get knocked down before he gives up?’ No one knows how close that has come to happening in past years. If nothing else, though, I have proven to myself that I’m a survivor…thus far, anyway. “She isn’t officially living with me but does stay over frequently. With this, though, I need to insure her safety, and I can’t do that with her living in her campus apartment.”

I know he’s dying to say more. The lawyer in him wants to play twenty questions. Shit, when did my friends turn into a bunch of nosy old women? Instead, he simply says, “Good idea. So…how are things with…the other situation? Have you been there lately?”

“Couple of weeks back and nothing new. I believe Aidan is going soon. Anyway, I’ve got to get going.” Yeah, we both know I’m just trying to nip this conversation in the bud. How many years has it been since I’ve wanted to sit around and talk about the woman who damn near ruined my life? “Thanks for being here today. We’ll talk soon.” With those words, I join Lia in the car, and Sam pulls away. Lia curls into my side as I settle an arm around her shoulders. “Okay?” She gives me an eager nod, which I know is bullshit, but I don’t call her on it.

“I want you to stay in today and take it easy. I have to go to the office, but I’ll try to be home early. We can have dinner at Leo’s tonight.” I lower my head, running my nose against her ear. “The wine there is sweet…and spicy.” My words hit their mark, and her face flushes as she remembers our last visit there. She has no idea how close I was that evening to fucking her on the tabletop. Leo, being a lusty Italian, would have probably overlooked the spectacle it would have caused.

She picks up my hand, playing with my fingers in what appears to be a nervous gesture. “Why would a mother hate her child, do you think? I mean…is the hate always there, or does something happen to cause it? Maybe the child cried too much as a baby?”

Here it is; a small window into all the pain I know she is feeling. Reliving her past today was painful; having her own mother completely throw her away is devastating. “Oh, baby, this isn’t on you. There is nothing an innocent child could ever do to deserve a parent like that.” This whole conversation completely guts me, more than Lia could know. This isn’t my first exposure to a situation like hers. I feel just as helpless now as I had the first time I had been faced with the evil a parent can visit upon their own blood.

She continues on as if I haven’t spoken, her voice almost detached as if she’s reading from a paper. “I tried for so many years to make her love me…or even like me. I kept thinking if I could just be perfect, then she would find something to be proud of. It was never enough, though; no matter what I tried, she hated me.

“I remember when I was thirteen; I got a letter from my teacher about a short story I had written. It was going to be published in the school paper. I thought…here it is…this is the moment that finally connects us.” Without interrupting her story, even though it is breaking my fucking heart, I wipe the tears that track down her cheeks and let her continue. “She was in the kitchen cooking, which was pretty rare. We mostly survived on sandwiches or something microwaved. I ran up behind her, waving the letter, excited to show her. I…guess she hadn’t heard me come in because she jerked in surprise, causing her to dump the entire box of pasta she had in her hand into the boiling water. It…splashed out on her, and she started screaming. She was so…so mad. I backed away, trying to tell her I was sorry. She took the spatula she was holding and hit me with it over and over. While that was happening, do you know what I was thinking?” I don’t answer, knowing she doesn’t really want one. “Why was she cooking pasta with a spatula?” Isn’t that crazy? She is beating me, and all I can think about is what she is using to do it?” A bitter, almost-hysterical laugh escapes her lips. “I mean, did I really have a preference? When she was finished, she picked up the letter that had fallen on the floor, barely looked at it, then threw it in the trash, dumping the ruined food on top of it. That was it…that was the day I stopped caring about her and started just trying to survive her.”

As I struggle for composure, I see Sam’s suspiciously bright eyes in the rearview mirror. This beautiful, strong woman in my arms has brought two strong men to their knees with what I know is just one horror story from her past. She was one of the lucky ones, even if she doesn’t know it. She has lived through Hell and came out stronger for it. What happened today has knocked her down, but she is far from out. Whether she knows it or not, her hate fuels her need to succeed, and there is not a more-powerful motivator; hell, I know it firsthand.

Hate with a healthy dose of guilt has driven me straight to the top. Cocaine might be my crutch, but hate is my drug of choice. A general hate will distort you, make you weaker, but a focused hate on one person is power. When that hate is born from grave wrongs committed against you, it is an unstoppable train. Lia’s hate had been born that day, in that kitchen when her mother severed the bond between mother and daughter.

My hate had been born the day eight years ago when Cassie had attempted to end three lives, only succeeding in ending one. That I was back in this moment again, caring for someone scarred by their past, wasn’t lost on me. I felt both the urge to jump from the car and run and the even-stronger desire to shield her from any further harm. I couldn’t help but wonder what love between us would do to the hate that had driven us both so far. There were only two possible outcomes I could see: We would either save or destroy each other.

Even as those fears churn through me, I’m powerless to pull away from her emotionally or physically. Instead, I pull her onto my lap, tucking her head against my neck and simply hold on. “You slay me, baby, fucking cut me open.” She sobs against my chest, and I let her have that moment without trying to stop the flow. She needs this outlet, the release from the pain. The anger and hate will take over again soon, but for now, she needs to grieve.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

Lia

 

Lucian had put me to bed like a child when we had gotten back to the apartment. It had taken a lot of encouragement to get him to continue on to his office as he had planned. I knew he had obligations and truthfully, I needed the space. I needed an afternoon to hold an ugly pity party full of thoughts of my evil mother and equally unsavory stepfather. Facing them both today in the courtroom had been more traumatizing than I had imagined; my stepfather’s eyes on me today had made me feel dirty.

When I woke a few minutes ago, I had gone straight to the shower, desperately needing to wash the filth away. His eyes on me brought back memories of all the times he had touched me, defiled me. I scrub until my skin is bright pink. Lather, rinse, repeat, over and over. I sink to the floor of the shower and allow myself one final cry. My feelings of betrayal are definitely on me. Had my mother not proven to me many times over that she has no feelings? She isn’t capable of love; she isn’t capable of being a human being. I hate her with a passion…I own that. I might loathe my stepfather, but my mother, in ways, is worse. She abandoned me…her own daughter. She is the lowest of life forms. I refuse to let her have another moment of my time. I can only hope the bed she has made with the devil today burns her for an eternity.

Standing, I step from the shower to find the bathroom full of steam. I open the door to release some of it before turning back to the sink. I towel off before applying a layer of the orchid-scented lotion Lucian loves. I drop one of his t-shirts over my head and walk around picking up clothes from the floor. Lucian has gotten more and more insistent about hiring a housekeeper. I stubbornly refuse to relinquish that role, needing to earn the money he has spent on me. He has tried to entice me into a position within Quinn Software, which I refused, as well. I enjoy taking care of him, and I don’t want people at his company thinking I have gotten a job there because I am sleeping with the boss. At least with me here, we can have privacy. And, let’s face it, it’s not like his million-dollar apartment is a pigsty; he is a neat person and always picks up after himself.

I take the clothing I have gathered and dump them into the washer. I am folding the ones that were in the dryer when a pair of Lucian’s boxers gives me an idea. Maybe we both need a distraction from the ugliness of the day. Sex might not be the answer to all of life’s problems, but it certainly helps sometimes. I jump up, quickly putting away the rest of the clothes before running to the kitchen. In the third drawer, I find what I’m looking for: a pair of scissors. Holding the scissors to the boxers, I hope fleetingly that his underwear isn’t as expensive as his suits.

Thirty minutes later and the scene is set. As long as my nipples didn’t fall off from lack of blood flow, things will be fine. I have just settled back on Lucian’s favorite chaise lounge when the door opens. I have a moment of hoping to God it’s not a surprise visit from Sam before my beautiful lover crosses the threshold, thankfully alone. He drops his case on the entryway table before looking toward the bedroom. I know by his intent expression that he is listening for me.

He starts walking in that direction when his gaze flickers to the side, sliding over me before continuing on. My breath catches as he stops abruptly. I almost expect to hear the sound of brakes being hastily applied. Astonishment washes over his face, then desire. I can see the flames flicker before catching fire. Those emotions are tempered by amusement. I am, after all, dressed…or undressed, in a way I’m certain he’s never seen before. Crossing my legs at the ankles, I beckon him closer with my hand. “Hey, baby, I’m glad you’re home.” His eyes blaze at the endearment I so seldom use.

Stopping beside the chaise, his eyes leisurely trace the lines of my body. He reaches out to pinch one plump, erect nipple. “I can see that. I like what you’ve done with my things.” He pulls my ponytail before blinking in shock. “Is that…my boxers?” When I grin, he starts chuckling. I know we both remember him teasing me about my penchant for finding strange things to tie my hair up with. Today, I’ve taken that to new extremes, and I can tell he loves my creativity. I have a string of dental floss wrapped around one erect nipple, a bread-tie around the other, the elastic I cut from his boxers holding my hair up and his purple silk tie wrapped around my neck as a necklace. He pulls his phone from his pocket, activating the camera. “I promise I’ll never share this with anyone.” I stiffen for a moment, wanting to refuse, but finally relax back, raising my arms over my head and giving him the shot I know he wants. He clicks twice before tossing the phone on the nearby couch along with his jacket. Before I can offer my help, he has his clothes laying on the floor and his head between my legs, eating me as if starved.

“Luc…” I moan as he thrusts two fingers inside me. His tongue twirls and flicks my clit as he pumps his digits relentlessly. I’m almost there, just starting to crest, when he suddenly stops. “Wh…what. Don’t stop!” I shamelessly try to push my pussy against his retreating fingers as he pulls back. He smacks the side of my exposed ass before hauling me sputtering to my feet.

“No orgasm until I’m buried inside you, my little hell cat.” I mutter curses under my breath as he takes the end of the tie I’m wearing and leads me over to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. “Put your hands on the glass and spread your legs, baby.” I see the bustle of the street below and look back at him uncertainly. He pushes his big body against mine, wedging his cock between the cheeks of my ass. He nips my ear, causing me to shiver. “What’s wrong, Lia? Are you afraid someone might see me fucking you from behind?” He reaches a hand around, cupping one of my breasts before using the dental floss to tug the nipple sharply. Then his hand lowers, sliding through my slick folds to rub my clit. “Afraid someone might see your tits pressed against the glass or your beautiful pussy, begging for more?” At his words, my sex gushes, coating his fingers. He growls, rubbing harder before removing his hand. “You like the thought, don’t you, baby? You want someone to see us?” I don’t bother to confirm or deny his statement; we both know the truth. My body refuses to lie for me. He kicks my legs further apart and positions my hands on the glass. I push my ass back, begging for his possession. With one mighty shove, he gives me what I’ve been craving: all of him, buried to the hilt.

Lucian takes advantage of my arms raised high on the glass to grab my exposed breasts. Having him use the dental floss and bread tie to pull on my nipples is unbelievably erotic. The twinge of pain as the restraints cut into my engorged flesh only adds another layer of excitement and soon I’m close, teetering at the edge, just needing his big cock to hit that one sweet spot to push me over. I grind my ass against his base, desperate for the release only he can give me. It’s so close, but he’s controlling my body, keeping it just out of reach. “Luc…please…oh, please!” At my words, he goes deep…so deep, then takes a hand to my clit, pinching the swollen bundle of nerves. That’s all it takes; I’m exploding, flames dancing all around as I convulse around his length. Time stands still; the city below appears frozen, as I stand suspended against the glass. Then suddenly, it all comes roaring back. Lucian’s shout of release, the feel of him flooding my insides, our frantic, heavy breathing, and finally the streetlights twinkle as night comes to claim the world around us.

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