Chapter 13
LUCIAN
“Ican’t believe we found that painting today,” Aspen said, a radiant smile stretching her cheeks.
I held up the large, framed artwork, studying the woman dancing in a flowing white skirt while a drummer played beside her, the background an abstract mixture of navy and rusty oranges. “The world must have overheard you telling me about Bomba and placed it in our path.”
She stared at me with raised brows, clutching the blue crushed velvet pillow she’d been fluffing. “That’s odd coming from you.”
“Why’s that?”
She shook her head and laughed before going back to setting the throw pillow in front of an orange one. “It’s something I would expect to hear from someone who believed in fate, tarot cards, or other fantastical things.”
“I can be fantastical,” I defended.
She reached for another pillow, giving me a dry look. “You’re a cold, hard facts kind of guy.”
“That’s fair,” I shrugged with a laugh.
She moved down the couch, fluffing each colorful square until I could barely see the dark gray anymore.
Not that I minded. I smiled softly and looked around, enjoying the pops of color.
I enjoyed seeing parts of Aspen all around me.
It was no longer a neutral canvas of my own making.
With her, it’d turned into a work of art that we made together.
An old, familiar lightness fluttered through my chest—a whisper of a feeling I remembered having when I was younger.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to just feel it because if I thought about it, it would set off the alarms again.
And I wanted to enjoy the moment. I wanted to enjoy the way my chest swelled with contentment.
As if I’d found a food I’d forgotten I loved and was relishing the flavors like it was the first bite all over again.
Still, no matter how much I tried to ignore the looming doubt, it crept in to taint the feeling. I avoided the uncertainty, tucking it aside for later, and moved on. “You know where this picture would look great hanging?” I asked with a sly smirk.
She whirled around, staring at me with pursed lips. “We are not moving Jesus.”
I rolled my eyes and heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.”
Her lips twitched, unable to hide her amusement at my dramatics.
I rested the picture against the wall before heading to the couch and falling back. “I gotta say, I thought all these pillows would be overkill. But, as much as I hate to say it, I can begrudgingly admit they are quite comfortable.”
“I’m a woman of function, not frivolity,” she declared, her chin held high.
“Says the woman who has taken over ninety percent of my closet.”
She narrowed her eyes, and I returned her glower with a wolfish smile and a wink.
I couldn’t help but study every inch of her, from her electric blue toenails, up her strong legs and corduroy skirt, past an Alkaline Trio band T-shirt—whoever that was—to her plump, bare lips and dark hair piled atop her head.
She was fucking stunning.
The realization that I would find her irresistible even if she was sick in sweatpants and a stained shirt, mixed with the rollercoaster of emotions I’d been riding all day. It wore me down until I couldn’t trust myself in my own mind for too long before bumping into something or setting off alarms.
Needing an escape, I reached for the one thing that was always safe between us—our physical relationship.
“Come here,” I ordered, my voice rough and deep.
“What?” she breathed, her eyes wide.
“Come. Here.”
She swallowed before her face transformed. Her eyes turned heavy and heated. Her lips parted, her tongue peeking out to slide across. Everything about her relaxed posture screamed vixen. I almost moaned when she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to me, never once looking away.
My breaths grew ragged and uneven. My cock strained against my pants, eager for her as she rose to straddle my lap.
“You’re right. These pillows are comfortable,” she murmured, adjusting herself and driving me insane. “Did your ex-wife like throw pillows?”
I blinked, struggling to process the question when all the blood resided in my crotch. “She loved them.” I gripped her hips. If she wanted me to answer questions, then she needed to sit still. “She liked to have an exorbitant amount—the definition of frivolous and uncomfortable.”
“That sounds about right,” she laughed.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just from our one meeting, she seemed excessively bitchy. So, I assumed the excessiveness carried over to other things about her as well.” She shrugged, dragging her nails up and down my chest before resting her hands on my shoulders.
“If I’m correct about her personality, I’m surprised you two got married.
And since I’m such a good judge of character, I’m sure I’m right. ”
“A good judge of character?” I barked a laugh and met her cocky gaze. “You thought I was an arrogant asshole when you first met me.”
“Because you are,” she exclaimed, slapping my shoulder.
We laughed, the sexy edge softening into playfulness, then slowly giving way to something more somber.
“She wasn’t always that way. In fact, a bitch is the last thing I would’ve called her when we got married.”
Her wide eyes matched my shock over the confession, unsure of why I said it. I never talked about Daria if I could avoid it, but sitting there with Aspen in my lap, I couldn’t imagine a safer place to share a part of myself I didn’t even know I wanted to.
“What changed?” she asked tentatively.
I took a deep breath and remembered the moment everything flipped on its head.
“I guess she just got tired of pretending,” I answered simply.
But the answer wasn’t enough; now that I’d started, I wanted to give more than simple, straightforward answers.
For the first time, I wanted to explain.
Something about Aspen made me want to share my side of it all, and, as if I couldn’t stop them, the words came pouring out.
“We started dating early in college. She held me together after my parents died. She never complained when we had to adjust our lifestyle while I fought with lawyers about inheritance and the rights to my father’s business.
She stood by me when I struggled adjusting to running the company before I was ready.
She was the doting and caring wife I’d dreamed of—someone I could raise a family with and grow old with. ”
I laughed when she looked at me as if I had a dick for a nose, but I didn’t stop to explain, needing to get everything out.
“I had no clue that she never wanted to be a mother. I had no clue that her main goal in life was to be a trophy wife. I found out in the end that she actually chose her school—her major—for the sole purpose of ingratiating herself with eligible bachelors who were more likely to have high incomes. Unfortunately for her, she found me first. So, while she didn’t want the same future as me, she settled for the security and lied about the rest until something better came along.
“That something better ended up being my college buddy, John. Their affair began soon after we got married, but I didn’t find out until three years later—soon after I got my full inheritance.
Before that, she put more effort into keeping it hidden.
Once I had my money, she stopped caring about trying to convince me of her lies.
It didn’t take long for me to find out about her and John, and once I confronted her about it, she dropped the act completely and filed for divorce within the month.
To add insult to injury, I found out that she’d been planning for our divorce since before we were married. ”
“What the fuck?” She muttered the words as if she was too shocked to even try to hold them back.
I gave a commiserating wince and continued revealing every dirty detail.
“It wasn’t until after my parents’ death that I was introduced to BDSM.
Having control when everything else spun out of reach settled me, and she participated with me.
Eagerly. At least I thought so. I found out during our divorce that she’d only played along to garner cropped videos and photos of marks.
She threatened to use them as proof of abuse if I didn’t give in to everything she wanted.
She threatened to tarnish my father’s name and company by telling everyone I abused her because my father abused my mother.
Which is fucking insane because my father worshipped the ground she walked on, and my mother was a strong woman who’d never allow any form of abuse. ”
I sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it to calm myself down.
I still struggled to accept the way she threatened my family after they’d been so accepting of her.
My mother had reservations, but still supported our relationship.
I’d been too na?ve and in love to listen.
And she’d assumed she’d be around to pick up the pieces if she was right.
After another deep breath, I wrapped up the long story.
“I needed to save my parents’ reputations and ended up agreeing to what I had to, almost losing my company in the process.
Which was when Felix stepped in and made his bargain. ”
Unable to meet her gaze and try to decipher what she was thinking, I focused on the steady thrum of her pulse at the base of her neck and the soft skin of her waist where my thumbs stroked back and forth.
The silence ticked by for excruciating seconds.
I held my breath, trying to prevent myself from regretting the word vomit I’d just unleashed.
Fuck.
I should have kept it to myself.
Is she going to get ideas now?
Is she going to try to do the same thing?
No. I have a prenup.
And I don’t love her.
The last thought sent my heart sinking into my stomach, making everything worse.
“Wow,” Aspen finally said, halting my mental spiral. “She wasn’t just a bitch. She was an epic fucking cunt.”
All the breath I’d been holding came out in one big laugh that had her laughing with me. She shook in my arms, somehow reviving my cock after that depressing tale. The light, but husky, sound wound around my deep chuckles and tugged my tension free, making me lighter than I’d felt in years.
Slowly, our laughs faded, leaving us smiling at each other.
“Why did you step in today? Especially since you’re never one to judge other women.”
Aspen heaved a sigh. “Even if I hadn’t read the bitch written all over her face, I saw the way you tensed.”
Of all the explanations, I hadn’t expected that one.
Other than Grace, Felix, and occasionally Corbin and Rose, no one had stood up for me since my parents died.
Remembering the warmth and security when she did, had a lump growing in my throat.
Unwilling to acknowledge it, I pushed past it with a joke.
“So, you came to save the day. Even though I’m an arrogant asshole. ”
“Yeah, but you’re my arrogant asshole. And I take care of what’s mine.
I defend what’s mine. Even if this isn’t some love match, we’re partners, and that’s what we do for each other.
Which means,” she said, dragging the word out, her face scrunched around a smile.
“I’m the only person who gets to be a bitch to you. ”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, lowering my voice, focusing on her last sentence, and ignoring the swelling tide of feelings her other words threatened to drown me under. I’d had enough emotional confessions to last me a lifetime. And now the only thing I wanted to feel was her wet heat wrapped around me.
“Mm-hmm.” Her eyes turned to molten gold as she dragged her nails down my chest to my belt.
I slid my hands down to her bare knees before working my way back up and under her skirt. “Does that mean you’re my bitch?”
She reached into my pants, pulling me out. “I can be whatever you want.”
“I want you out of that skirt and on my cock.”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
I pulled her panties aside. “Good girl.”
“Just one thing.” She raised up and held me poised at her entrance. So close to everything I wanted, but so far.
“Anything.”
Her smile turned devious and taunting. “Even though you think of me as your hero, saving you from the big bad bitch,” she said, slipping down an inch with a gasp before continuing. “Make sure you don’t fall in love with me.”
She dropped, sinking me into her to the hilt, ripping a groan from my chest so rough and desperate that I barely registered my own words given back to me. I knew she said them to be playful, but the more she rocked over me, the more I forgot why I said those words in the first place.
The more I started to fear that it might be too late.