Chapter Seven Charlotte
Chapter Seven
Charlotte
I run so hard I can feel my heart pumping, though I don’t know what exactly I’m running from. The space between my legs aches, a painful steady throb, and my feet scrape against the gnarled roots of the forest floor, a forest that should feel familiar.
But it doesn’t.
Someone is after me.
Suddenly, one of the raised tree roots rears up, catching my ankle. I fall victim to it easily. Like prey, I’m captured, but instead of the harsh impact of mud and earth I expect, a rough pair of hands catches me, holding me close in the dark.
“Charlotte,” I hear that velvet-and-sin voice hiss.
I lean into it, melting further into the shadows, until there’s nothing else left but the stars overhead and the dark’s embrace. My breath swirls like smoke in the cool night air, the ache between my legs intensifying at the sight of those full, sinful lips.
“Charlotte,” I hear that dark voice whisper again. Only this time more serpentine.
Nearly as harsh as I expect he would kiss.
Charlotte!
I wake with a jolt, quickly realizing I fell asleep on my laptop in Imani’s empty office, and I’ve been drooling onto the keys. Horrified, I straighten and swipe at my mouth.
“Burning the midnight oil already?”
I let out a startled shriek.
Swiveling in my chair, I find Lucifer leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his dark eyes fixed on me. Like I conjured him straight from my dream.
I sputter a little. “Imani went home.”
“Did she?” He grins, mocking me, those sharp canines flashing. His gaze darts toward a nearby clock.
It’s nearly one in the morning.
Oh God.
My face heats. “I ... was just finishing up a presentation for tomorrow’s meeting. That’s all.”
“And did you?” He watches me for a long beat. “Finish, that is?”
My flush deepens.
There’s no way he means what I think he means, and yet ...
I squash the thought before it can truly begin. He’s my boss, plain and simple. That’s all he’ll ever be. That’s all I want him to be. No matter how my dreams say otherwise.
“Yes, sir,” I whisper. My gaze drops to the floor.
When I glance back up, those wicked lips twist. “Good girl.”
I freeze, even as his praise turns me molten. Those two words do things to me that they shouldn’t.
And he knows it.
His smirk widens. “Make sure you head home before security locks up.”
Without another word, he turns to leave.
Finally free, I sigh and sink down in my chair.
No longer having those dark eyes on me should feel like a relief, but the moment he’s gone my mind turns hazy. Lucifer’s presence feels like a gravitational pull, powerful enough that it lifts me from my body, makes me forget myself, and the sudden loss of his attention is so intense, so acute, it leaves a gaping void in me, an endless space so empty that before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet, standing beneath Imani’s doorframe.
“Mr. Apollyon?”
He turns back toward me, his hands in his suit coat pockets. “Lucifer, if you will, or sir ...” Another smirk twists his lips. “If it suits you.”
Is he . . . ? No. He couldn’t be.
I can hardly breathe, but I lower my gaze before I dare step forward. “About the other day ...” I glance up at him through my lashes.
He watches me for a long moment, those dark eyes piercing through me. The color is so dark they’re almost black, save for when he moves. Then there’s a glint of amber there, like he keeps some of that burning hellfire locked up inside him, a monster barely leashed.
I’d do well to remember that.
I glance down at my hands again, suddenly realizing I’m wringing them together. “In the club, I ...”
“You don’t need to offer an explanation about what you do with your free time, Miss—?”
“Bellefleur,” I offer. “Charlotte Bellefleur.”
“Miss Bellefleur.” He nods, dismissing me as he turns to leave again.
“Did you mean what you said? In the club, I mean?”
He stops abruptly, not bothering to look toward me, though something in his voice shifts. “Unlike my Father, I make a habit of only saying the things I mean.”
At the mention of God, a chill runs down my spine, filling me with an awareness of all the ways Lucifer is other , unlike me, yet when he’s standing there, dressed in a suit that fits him like a love letter to the male body, I find it way too easy to forget.
It’s one small part of why he’s a danger to me.
“I understand.”
“Will that be all, Miss Bellefleur?” He glances over his shoulder, clearly ready to dismiss me.
“Yes, sir.” I nod, refusing to meet his eyes. “Though I ... think you’ll like the presentation Imani and I came up with for you.”
He nods curtly. “Till tomorrow, then.”
I watch him leave, feeling my phone buzz in my pocket just as he reaches the elevator doors. I don’t have that many friends in NYC yet, and at this hour, a text could only mean one thing. I pull out my phone and glance down at it.
“Shit,” I mumble.
Lucifer’s voice reaches toward me. “Pardon?”
“Sorry.” I shake my head, waving him on. “It’s nothing. It’s just ... my friend got really drunk, and I need to go save her, I think. That’s all.”
One minute I’m resolved to keep my business to myself and the next thing I know I’m babbling like an idiot. That’s what he does to me.
Lucifer tilts his head, watching me curiously. “Do you make a habit of playing savior to all your friends?”
I frown. There’s a subtle judgment in his words I don’t appreciate.
“She’s my roommate.” I don’t mean for it to sound defensive, especially considering this man’s my boss, but somehow it comes out that way. Though from the flat expression he returns, Lucifer doesn’t exactly appear fazed.
Instead, he looks intrigued.
It’s irritating, really. How collected he always is.
Always controlled.
I turn back to my phone, starting to text a reply message to find out where the hell Jax is and let her know I’m on my way, but before I know what’s happening, I feel Lucifer beside me, like a burning heat. He stares over my shoulder, towering over me as he takes in the drunken texts and accompanying picture.
A shiver prickles down my spine, a welcome awareness thrilling me.
“That’s one of my brother’s clubs,” he comments.
Az, he means. Though I’m too distracted at how close he is, how that deep velvet voice feels like a thrum against my skin, to worry what he thinks of that, as if it’s any of his business.
“What’s your friend doing there, little dove?”
The nickname, the reminder of our interaction the other evening, irks me, and suddenly, my protective instincts kick in.
I step away, placing some distance between us, more than prepared to defend Jax, even to my boss. “She doesn’t know anything, if that’s what you mean ... sir.” I tack the address on at the end like an afterthought. I mean for it to keep things professional, to soften the interaction, but all it does is show that he’s rattled me, and he knows it.
His lips curl wickedly, like he has a secret he’ll never share, but before he can say anything more, I grab my purse from Imani’s desk and brush past him, heading for the elevators. Everything about him is designed to tempt me, to draw me in.
I need to remember that.
“Where are you going?” Lucifer’s still watching me, his eyes sparkling with a twisted curiosity.
I’m not sure which is more terrifying, his fleeting interest in me or how much I crave it.
Talk about delayed rebellion.
I glance down at my watch, trying to look like I’m in a hurry, which I am . I don’t know exactly which one of Az’s clubs Jax is at, or even how to get inside, and she’s not responding to any of my follow-up texts. “I need to catch the train to Brooklyn if I expect to find her, and get her home, and still get enough sleep before tomorrow’s—”
“I’ll take you.”
He says it so suddenly, I think we’re both a little shocked by it.
“It’s on the way,” he says, though that’s a blatant lie, and we both know it.
His response is so collected, so controlled, I almost convince myself that I imagined his momentary surprise. This man does nothing without a purpose, without a plan.
That much is clear to me.
He joins me beside the elevator, placing a hand there to stop its sliding door from closing.
This is a bad idea.
I shake my head. “You don’t have to—”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Those dark eyes spear through me, promising something way more tempting than a favor, something far more unholy. “But I’m offering.”
There’s more to his words, or so it seems, and it makes me understand how he tricked Eve, but as soon as the idea sparks inside me, I stomp it out, ending it before it can become anything. Just like that damn dream.
I’m being ridiculous, reading more meaning into this than there is.
What’s the danger?
We’re colleagues, after all. That’s all we’ll ever be.
Besides, I could use the help.
“Okay.” I nod. “Okay.”
He steps inside the elevator, leaning against the far-side handrail to wait for me.
But still, I feel myself hesitate.
“Shall we?” He lifts a dark brow.
At his prompt, I hurry inside, coming to stand beside him as the elevator doors close. The elevator makes its way down into the darkness, descending for what feels like an eternity until we reach the ground floor. The doors open once more, and we exit together, though Lucifer doesn’t bother to so much as look at me. But no matter how I twist this, I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to his words than a simple favor.
And I’ve just foolishly taken the fruit he’s given me.