Chapter 4
LUCIAN
Clutching the velvet box tighter than necessary, I rounded the corner to her bedroom door open and froze, finding her perched on the settee in front of her bed, draped in black silk and lace, bent over one completely exposed leg from the slit in her dress, and fastening the buckle on her strappy black shoes.
Her floor-length dress with long sleeves covered her completely, yet she seemed on the edge of indecently exposed.
Shaking my head, I tapped my knuckles on the door before she caught me staring like a fool.
“Almost ready,” she said.
She stood, and I nearly choked on my tongue.
If I’d thought her dress revealing before, it was nothing compared to seeing her fully upright.
Lace clung to her arms and swept over her upper body, meeting a band of silk at her waist, sheer enough to tease the illusion that with a closer look, I might glimpse skin beneath.
But that wasn’t what sent my heart pounding.
It was the deep vee, plunging to the center of her stomach, that made my cock twitch in my pants. She was demure and illicit all at once, a contradiction wrapped in lace and silk, and I clenched my fists painfully tight to keep from tearing the dress away to see the rest of her.
“You look—” I choked over the words and swallowed. “You look amazing.”
Her ruby red lips spread into a brilliant smile as she preened dramatically. “Why, thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Was that a compliment? From you?” I joked, yearning to lighten the tension coiling in my chest.
“I can play nice, if you can.”
“Oh, princess. I can play very, very nice.” And now the tension was back…but lower.
“I bet,” she purred, but quickly shook it off. “But we have a gala to attend.”
“Of course. I meant, being nice at the gala,” I said, ignoring my own insinuation.
She snorted and collected her purse and another small item from the cream comforter. She turned back to me with lips rolled between her teeth and hesitated to meet my gaze, switching her balance from one leg to another. I furrowed my brow, wondering what brought on the sudden show of nerves.
“So, I know we said it as just a joke, but I figured why not?” she explained, laughing nervously. “So, yeah. I-umm-got you this.” She thrust out her hand, clutching a black silk rose with a diamond leaf attached to a pin.
The sight of the boutonniere triggered a laugh that rose from deep in my chest. Aspen snatched her offering back, misunderstanding my reaction, and I rushed to clarify. “Oh, no. I love it. It’s just that…” I extended my hand with the long velvet box. “I guess we’re more alike than we thought.”
Her mouth formed the perfect oh. I desperately wanted to rub my thumb across the plump curve before sliding inside and ordering her to suck. With Herculean control, I restrained myself and cracked the box open. “It’s not quite a corsage, but I thought it would do.”
“Oh, my god. Lucian,” she gasped.
We both stared at the sparkling diamond leaves clustered together on a platinum rope bracelet. Her joke about picking her up for prom with flowers stuck with me, and I couldn’t help but play along. It was an unexpected treat to discover she played along too.
“It’s stunning.” She laughed. “And all I got you was a fake flower with fake diamonds.”
“Gasp,” I mocked, holding my hand to my chest. “You didn’t even splurge for real diamonds? I’m not sure I can go with you anymore.”
I moved to step away when she snatched the box from my hand and glared playfully. “No takesies-backsies.”
I cocked my head and laughed. “Takesies? Backsies?”
“It’s a thing,” she defended seriously. “Now help me put this on before we’re late.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I focused on fastening the jewelry around her slim wrist, sneaking glances as her pursed lips slowly softened into a smile that sent a warm ache blooming in my chest.
We arrived ten minutes after the event started. Aspen called it fashionably late, even though I knew she’d been here all day, making sure everything was set up just right. When I walked in, I couldn’t believe what she’d accomplished.
People dressed in their finest mingled on the black-and-white checkered floor among cocktail tables draped in heavy black tablecloths, while the waitstaff in tuxedos floated through with hors d’oeuvres and champagne.
The room sparkled with golden light and cream accents, creating a magical wonderland where the rich came to play and spend their money for a good cause.
After hearing her on the phone all week, I knew this room was just the beginning.
Beyond the sets of double doors lay round tables with peonies and the real floating candles I’d heard her argue about with the vendor earlier in the week, claiming she would not have fake lights because “they look cheap and did they think she was cheap or did they think she was spending a fortune to raise money for children?”
Needless to say, I had no doubt that I’d find fiery centerpieces when we entered that room. Rules be damned.
My woman got shit done.
My woman?
I faltered over how easily the description formed in my mind, quick to smother it with reason.
It made sense that a swell of pride would inflate my chest, prompting grandiose descriptions after watching her work so hard this week.
Add in the conversation I had with her father yesterday at lunch, when he threatened me in the most gentlemanly way possible that if I hurt his daughter, he would do whatever it took to exile me from his company.
It was… an interesting conversation that left me with even more doubts about my original assumption that Aspen was a spoiled princess. It left me with the impression that, despite Hank Quinn treating Aspen like a princess, he made her work for every achievement she got.
After our meeting, I spent the evening forcing myself to stay in my home office, repeating the mantra that it didn’t matter what her father said, Aspen was most likely just like other women—just like Daria, a selfish woman, hiding behind lies.
And the more I wanted to venture into the living room and see her stomping around our apartment—my apartment—the more I held firm to staying put.
Despite the growing doubts, a part of me knew I had to cling to my prejudices about Aspen.
And all of me knew I didn’t want to look at why.
“Aspen, a stór.”
Speak of the devil.
Aspen turned toward her father but didn’t pull away from my arm around her waist. Thank God, because I deeply enjoyed the small span of her back that the black lace didn’t cover.
When I’d followed her down the stairs, I’d almost groaned finding more bare flesh beneath the lace stretched between her shoulder blades, leaving bare, warm skin exposed just above her lush ass, which was encased in black silk.
I relished every second my fingers played along that flesh until he pulled her in for a hug.
“You look stunning,” he praised, holding her arms as he looked her over. “But you always do. Just like your mother.”
A warm blush infused Aspen’s cheeks. “Thank you. You look handsome, as always.”
Hank shifted to me with an outstretched hand. “Lucian. Good to see you again.”
“You too, sir.”
“Thank you again for acquiring the replacement item for the auction. I know we all appreciate it at Quinn Music Group after Miss Hart retracted her previous donation. I must say, our loss ended up being our gain as well.”
“Any time, Hank.”
“As much as I’d love to spend the night by your side, I’ll see you two at dinner. Gotta go socialize and get everyone to spend their money.”
“Good luck, Dad,” Aspen encouraged with a kiss on his cheek before turning to me. “What did you end up getting as a replacement? I forgot to ask after the relief of learning there was one.”
“I wanted to keep the donation similar, so the highest bidder will be a special announcer for an award at the Oscars and assist in bringing the trophies to the other winners. As well as a VIP experience at an after-party.”
“Holy shit.” She blinked, her brows shooting high. “How the hell did you get that?”
I took in her dropped jaw, imagining all the ways I could fill her open mouth. “I have my ways.” I drawled with a wolfish smile, slipping a finger beneath her chin to coax her mouth closed. I didn’t need anyone else noticing her beautifully parted lips—or getting ideas.
I nearly rolled my eyes at the possessive thought. Get it together, Daire.
She nodded her thanks and turned her attention back to the crowd. “I guess we should follow my dad’s example and go talk people out of their money.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, gesturing for her to lead the way.
We spent the next forty-five minutes floating from one conversation to the next, and I was reminded of why I avoided these functions whenever I could, sending one of my employees instead. I hated all the schmoozing and false platitudes.
At one point in my life, I’d looked forward to these events.
After watching my mom and dad float around the room, effortlessly working their way through a room as a united front, looking like they’d rather be nowhere else than by each other’s side as they endeared some business out of their money for the charity’s cause.
I’d assumed I’d have the same experience with Daria when we married, but it never quite fit. She spoke over me, or I interrupted her. Which led her to walk away to grab another drink, eventually finding someone else—usually a man—to talk to while avoiding me.
After our divorce, I did my best to avoid social events.
However, having Aspen at my side gave me a different experience.
She only spoke when she had something important to add.
She looked to me when I spoke, as if she hung on my every word.
She rarely left my side, unless it was to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, grabbing one for me as well.
We balanced each other, and the conversations flowed effortlessly.
Just like my parents.
Before I could linger on that thought, two familiar faces appeared.
“Rose. Corbin,” Aspen greeted. “I’m so glad to see you here.”
“Of course. We wouldn’t miss a chance for The Berkshire to donate to the arts for public schools. As a reputable bar,” Rose clarified and laughed. “Couldn’t have people wondering why a kinky sex club is donating to children.”
Aspen snorted before pulling Rose in for a hug while Corbin and I shook hands.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” Corbin stated.
“Oh, yes. The engagement,” Rose exclaimed, sparkling in her champagne-colored dress. “I was surprised after our conversation when you said you two hated each other. But then again, hate and love have such a fine line. So, maybe there wasn’t much to be surprised about after all.”
My throat tightened at her assumption, and I pulled at my collar, searching for room to breathe. Before I could choke out a reply, Aspen swooped in.
“I know. It was surprising to me, too. But life is full of surprises, and I’ve learned to just roll with them and not question the how too much.”
A laugh slipped through my constricted throat, earning me a glower from Aspen that I met with a look that called bullshit.
“Asking questions is Aspen’s favorite pastime,” I teased.
She had a driving need to understand and know what came next.
Especially when we played. “I guess I’m just lucky that she decided not to question whatever it is between us too much and said yes. ”
“Lucky indeed,” Aspen said.
After more congratulations and small talk, the girls made an excuse to go grab drinks.
“I was sure you’d never get married again,” Corbin said once we were alone, his deep blue eyes filled with knowing doubt.
“You know I made a promise to my godfather,” I confessed.
Corbin knew me better than anyone, making lying useless.
The last thing I wanted was a public interrogation that someone could overhear about my motives for marrying Aspen.
“I needed a wife, and she needed a way to keep her company. The end.”
“But marriage?” he questioned, stepping to my side, looking over the crowd toward our women at the bar.
“We aren’t all as lucky as you with Rose.”
He scoffed. “Hey, remember, I was divorced, too.”
I winced at the reminder, hating the connection he was trying to make between us.
“Maybe Aspen is your Rose. Your second chance at love.”
It was my turn to scoff. Hard. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re sure looking at her like I look at Rose.”
“Because I like playing with her.”
“Hmmm.”
I did my best to ignore his gaze boring into the side of my head as I tried to change the way I watched Aspen.
“With that look, you two must fuck like bunnies.”
I flinched. Then cringed, knowing my reaction gave too much away.
“You do fuck, right?” he asked slowly.
“We’ve fucked. Yes.” I paused before muttering, “Once.”
“What?” he exclaimed.
I cringed again and hesitated, not wanting to voice all the reasons I had for holding back from having sex. Admitting them aloud left them exposed and gave Corbin the opportunity to question their validity. I wasn’t ready to defend my choice to stick to foreplay, or to receive feedback on it.
No matter what I said, he wouldn’t understand how I lost control when I fucked her on my desk, without a condom, and the door unlocked, allowing anyone to walk in. I’d been reckless and acted without thought. I’d reacted on feelings.
And I didn’t do feelings.
Clearing my throat, I tried to explain. “We do…other things.”
Corbin faced me completely, demanding I acknowledge his wide-eyed stare. “What the fuck, man?”
Relief nearly buckled my knees when I saw Aspen and Rose on their way back, saving me from answering.
“What has you so shocked?” Rose asked with an amused glance at Corbin.
I peered at Corbin, finding him still slack-jawed and staring.
“Of course, I’m shocked. Lucian just told me—”
Fear struck my chest that he’d call me out, asking Aspen for an explanation he couldn’t get from me. “Corbin,” I warned.
“That he likes pineapple on his pizza.”
Relief washed through me in a rush, air flooding back into my lungs at the same time as both women said, “Ew.”
I shot Corbin a glare, then offered Aspen a self-deprecating smile and shrug. Before anyone could add another word, a voice cut in from outside our circle.
“Oh, wow. Mr. Daire and Mr. Black. Two of the most prominent business moguls here tonight. I’d love to chat if you have a moment.”
I never got a chance to look his way. My eyes locked on Aspen instead; her face ghostly pale. My chest tightened at the sight. Whatever hit her so hard, I felt it too, sharp and personal.