Chapter 18
Lucien
When she appears at the top of the stairs, clad in deep turquoise silk that clings to her body like a second skin, her hair curled and her eyes a shocking shade of blue, all the breath leaves my lungs.
Partially because she’s so beautiful I can hardly believe it... and partially because she’s still alive.
When I got here her father was caught in a meeting with someone in his office, and though I’m sure it was meant to be a private meeting, they were screaming at each other like there was an actual war going on in there.
It’s not my fault I listened to every word they were saying.
There’s evidently a warehouse in the warehouse district that’s storing important merchandise for Dom–in other words, girls–and said warehouse was robbed earlier today. Girls disappeared. Men were shot.
And only Brooks was left alive.
The man doing half the screaming was of the opinion that this meant Brooks was also at fault, but Dom to my surprise, was spending most of his time defending the girl.
He said she couldn’t have done any shooting, as she didn’t have a weapon, that she wouldn’t have done it anyhow, as this business was going to be hers sooner rather than later.
Both statements showed that he doesn’t know Brooks as well as he thinks he does, but I wasn’t going to march in there and tell him so. Overall, I’m guessing that she’s still alive thanks to her dad’s misplaced belief in her.
If he didn’t have that faith, she’d be dead rather than standing at the top of the stairs, staring at me like I’m the second fucking coming of Christ.
I widen my own eyes at her, trying to tell her to keep her fucking mouth shut, and then add another look that says I know what she’s been up to and I’m going to take it up with her later.
She understands both statements.
I know because I can see her start to grin.
And holy devils, that does something to me.
Her smile runs over my skin like an electric current, warm and shocking at the same time, comfort and excitement in one.
It tears a hole in me and shoots right into my heart, and from there south, until my dick is growing hard at the mere mention of her smile.
Just relief, I tell myself firmly. That’s just the relief of seeing her alive and well, especially after she’s evidently been going around killing her father’s men and kidnapping girls who’ve already been kidnapped.
Un-kidnapping them?
There’s got to be a better word for that, but my brain isn’t working the way it should.
When she comes slowly down the stairs, her eyes on mine and the grin on her face growing, and murmurs quietly, “Fucking Christ am I glad to see you. I hear you’ve got me for the night,” I don’t bother to answer her.
I just take her, turn, and get to my car as quickly as possible.
Before Dom changes his mind about letting me have her for the night... or defending her against the man who wants to kill her for having shot a bunch of men.
***
By the time we get to the hotel I’ve rented for the night, I’m jumping out of my skin with the need to touch the girl.
I drag her into the lobby, which is deserted, and then up the stairs.
This is one of those very posh hotels that has only two levels and ten rooms, which makes it feel incredibly classy, and the decor reflects that.
No cheap chain decorations here. The carpet is a plush and very deep burgundy, the woodwork dark and highly polished.
The crystal chandeliers above us do very little to light the building, leaving us in a smoky, shadowed sort of haze as we move up the stairs.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” Brooks asks loudly. “Why are we the only people in here?”
She’s trying to make a joke, but I can hear the nerves in her voice that tell me she doesn’t trust anything about anything right now. God, the lack of people around us probably makes this feel more like a trap than anything else.
She’s been undercover for too long.
Around her father too much.
“I rented out the entire building to make sure we’re secure,” I mutter, pulling her along behind me.
“The entire building?”
I grind my teeth together, already tired of talking. “Yes. My men have been through every room to sweep it for bugs or traps and they’re surrounding the building as we speak.”
I turn impatiently and press her to wall, my body hard against hers and my hands wrapping themselves in her hair. “We’re safe. I promise.”
When her eyes turn to me, they’re wide and vulnerable, and for the first time since she was a teenager, I think I might be able to see all the way to her soul.
That’s not the Brooks I know. That’s certainly not the girl I fingered on the balcony of her father’s mansion. What the fuck has been going on in her father’s house?
The barely contained aggression that’s been running through my veins dissipates so quickly it leaves me breathless, and I brush my fingers down her cheek. “Brooks,” I whisper.
She stares at me if with brittle, breakable eyes full of ice and shattered glass, and for a moment, just a moment, I think she’s going to break. My strong, brave, reckless girl looks like she’s seen things that have crept into her heart and broken her in ways she can’t understand.
And Christ, I want to rip every man who’s hurt her limb from limb and send them to hell without an ounce of their body left. I want to kill her father and his men for what they’ve done, and I’ll burn the city down getting it done.
Then she blinks and it’s gone. My Brooks is back, all cocky attitude and false bravado, and she smirks.
“What, Lucien?” she says, lifting one eyebrow in challenge.
I don’t know if I want to laugh at the sudden change or put my fist through the wall next to her head, just to get a reaction.
I want to rip her dress off and fuck her right here in the hallway, just to prove I own her.
Lift her and impale her on my cock without warning. Make her scream at how I’ll fill her.
And I want to take her in my arms and hold her, tell her that I’m here and that we’ll fix whatever she’s not telling me. Shush her and comfort her, even as she fights the emotions I know she doesn’t want to show me.
I’m so torn between the two that I can’t decide on either, and instead of answering her I step back quickly and use her hair to drag her into the first room. I have no idea if this is the one I reserved but I don’t care.
I need a bed and I need Brooks’ dress off, now. I don’t give a fuck which room it happens in, but I’m not going to fucking do it in the hallway. My men are right outside and I’ll be well and truly damned if I’m going to let any of them see Brooks naked–or watch what I’m about to do to her.
Of course the moment I get her into the room, she decides it’s time to start talking.
“Lucien, I have to talk to you,” she says, yanking her hair out of my hands and stepping back. “There are whole warehouses full of girls. The underground rooms aren’t the only ones. And they’ve got–”
I clap a hand over her mouth, shove her back against the wall, and rip her dress right down the middle.
“Brooks, I don’t give a single fuck about the girls in warehouses right now,” I growl.
“I’ve spent the last two days terrified that you’d done something stupid enough that you’d been killed.
I want my hands on your body and your legs wrapped around me.
I want to feel every inch of you until I’m convinced you’re still alive.
Then you can tell me about the trouble you’ve been causing. ”
“I liked that dress,” she gasps.
I slam my mouth over hers to shut her up, claiming her mouth like I have every right to do it, and to her credit, she gives in quickly, opening up to me and letting me in.
The kiss doesn’t have anything delicate or patient about it.
I’m too angry, too demanding, to care about being soft.
I tear into her, lips and teeth and tongue, and her nails go right to my arms, scratching and pleading.
I wrap one hand around her neck to hold her still, then drag my other hand down between her breasts and over her stomach, spreading the remains of the dress to give me better access.
She’s wearing lace lingerie, and part of my brain wonders where the fuck she got that, but immediately finds better distraction.
I don’t give a fuck where she got the bra and panties.
I want them off her.
I put my mouth to her neck, right under her ear, and bite. “Take off your panties,” I hiss, her skin hot and flushed under my lips. Her pulse is fluttering in her neck and for the first time, I start to see why women find vampires so sexy.
Because I would bite her there until she bled, just to make her admit that she belongs to me. I want her to promise that she’ll never leave me again. Swear on everything she holds holy that she’ll be more careful with herself and start letting me protect her.
I want to chain her to my wrist and force her to open up to me whenever I want it.
God, I sound like a fucking maniac.
But that’s exactly what she does to me.
I expect her to argue with me about the panties, but she doesn’t. She tips her chin to the sky, moans at the feel of my teeth on her skin, and slithers out of her panties, leaving her with only a bra and the scraps of the dress still on.
I don’t have to look to know it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
I let go of her for long enough to undo the belt on my trousers, then unbutton them and let them fall to the ground, My cock springs from boxers, desperate and needy and hard enough to be used as a weapon, and I put a hand between her legs, forcing them open.
I leave my fingers there long enough to feel the heat and moisture coming off her, and fuck, I didn’t think I could get harder than I already am, but I was wrong.
The idea that she wants me just as badly, that she’s letting me handle her like she doesn’t need a choice in the matter, is so fucking sexy that I’m losing my mind.