“Mr. Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down, and Fuck Me Raw,” I gasp out as another wave of laughter chokes me. Lucian flips me to my back, looking adorably mussed and inquisitive. “Rose named you that, and it’s kinda true; you have to admit.”
He looks like he’s holding back his own laughter but settles instead for a heart-stopping grin. “It looks like your friend is a pretty good judge of character then. Although, I’d only classify this as a ‘tie me down’ moment. We’ll have to work on the ‘tie me up’ soon. I also think I can do more with the ‘fuck me raw’ challenge.” As spent as I am a jolt of heat sizzles through me at his words. I have been perfectly content with no sex life for years, but Lucian is changing that. He’s showing me everything I have been missing, and it only makes me want more…with him.
We make our way slowly toward the bedroom and clean up. Bossy man that he is, he then demands I return to bed, despite my protests, while he works for a while. I want to put up more of a fight, but I am too damned tired, and we both know it. My head is barely on the pillow before I am out. When I wake, we share some Chinese food Lucian has ordered and then we argue about me leaving. I want nothing more than to stay with Lucian again, but I know I have to go back to school the next day. “I don’t have any of my things here; it would be easier to go home.”
“Sam and I can drop you on our way out in the morning. It’s already late, and there is no need in either of us going back out.” He turns back to the football game we have been watching as if the matter is settled.
“Does anyone ever disagree with you?” I ask as I snuggle back against his chest. We are lying on the couch in front of his big-screen television in the living room. The lights of the city below twinkle through the floor-to-ceiling windows, lulling me into a state of utter relaxation.
“Only you,” he says against the top of my head as he shifts me closer. I drift away to the sound of his steady heartbeat against my ear and his heat surrounding me. In such a short time, I have become so comfortable with him. Here, in his arms, is more peace than I’ve ever known, and for a moment, I panic at the thought of losing it. What happens when this is over, and I’m just another Monique he’s trying to avoid? For once, I understand completely the kind of sorrow the other woman must feel at seeing Lucian with someone else.
“No! God, no! What are you doing!” I blink, disoriented. I’m being tossed around and someone is yelling the same thing over and over. Moving my hands, I feel…Lucian. My body is partly on top of his, and he’s trembling and jerking beneath me as if in agony. Even in my groggy state, I know he’s having a nightmare. His voice has gone hoarse from yelling. I gently try to wake him, to soothe his distress.
“Luc…it’s Lia. Baby, wake up, you’re dreaming.” I continue to murmur softly to him until he starts to quieten. He is still shaking, but his voice has lowered, and I think he’s settling back into sleep. My body is relaxing when he starts to choke. His hands reach frantically for his throat and the sounds are so real I’m terrified that somehow, this time, something or someone is strangling him. “Luc...God, please wake up. Luc!” Suddenly, he rears up, and the momentum sends me flying through the air. I land in a sprawling heap against the coffee table, clipping my head on the way down. I lay there, trying to get my bearings, while Luc pants nearby on the couch.
“Lia…” Lucian sounds confused as he calls my name. I hear a click and then the light of the lamp creates a yellow glow in the room; we must have both fallen asleep on the couch.
“I’m here,” I say as I struggle to my feet. I approach him warily, ensuring he is indeed awake now. I rub the knot forming on the back on my head as I reach him. “Are you okay?”
Looking bewildered, he asks, “What happened? Why were you on the floor?”
I sit next to him, rubbing my hand on his back. “You had a bad dream.”
Turning to me he says, “Did I scare you? Is that why you were on the floor?”
“Um…no. I…fell off when you sat up.” His eyes zero in on my other hand, still rubbing the place that made contact with the table. He reaches out to feel the area I’m touching and bites off a curse as he feels the bump.
“Fuck. Shit, baby, I’m sorry. I hurt you. I’m so sorry. Shit.”
“Luc, it’s fine. Really, it’s not a big deal.” He ignores what I’m saying, insisting on dragging me into the bathroom to look at the bump. He lets loose with another string of curses before sitting me gently on the side of his bed. He runs into the kitchen and returns with an ice pack. After a few moments, I remove the pack, handing it back to him. “I think that’s good. Let’s go back to bed.” I yawn on cue and he gives me a soft smile, setting the ice down and tucking me into bed. When he leaves the room, I assume he’s just going to throw the ice away. When he doesn’t return, I realize he’s not coming back. I get out of bed and walk quietly toward the living room. The lamp is still on, and I see Lucian’s sleeping figure once again on the couch. On the table beside him is an empty glass with a bottle of scotch next to it. I ponder joining him, but I realize he is afraid to sleep with me again. Finding out he had indirectly hurt me tonight has shaken him. I back away; I loathe leaving him, but I’m giving him what he needs right now…space to breathe.
Chapter Twelve
Lia
There has been little time to think in the last week with both Lucian and I battling the flu. When he and Sam dropped me at home this morning, it had suddenly hit me; my court date is coming up, and I had completely forgotten it. The happy bubble I have been existing in is effectively pierced.
It’s obvious this morning that Lucian was still troubled by what had happened during the night. He checked the bump on my head again, and I assured him it didn’t hurt. I wanted to ask him about the dream, but I didn’t know how. The sound of him choking was bad enough, but his words last night had been even worse. He sounded so scared, so horrified; I knew these weren’t just random dreams. How long had this been going on? I can’t imagine waking up like that every night. I have had nightmares about my stepfather on and off, but nothing of that magnitude. He had given me a brief kiss and told me he would call when I stepped from the car earlier. I wanted to act like a teenager and demand to know when, but I just smiled instead and waved at him through the glass as the car pulled away. I felt a childish urge to cry and had no idea why.