Pierced(8)

Lucian tightens his grip on my arm, looking down at me. “You aren’t in any condition to drive yourself home, so I’ll drop you. Leave me your keys, and I’ll have your car delivered to your place later tonight.” I resist as he tries once more to steer me into his car. Finally, clearly losing patience with me, he snaps, “Lia, get in the damn car, now!” I am so surprised by his tone that I jump to do his bidding, never questioning his authority until the door closes firmly behind him and he settles his thigh onto the seat next to mine.

“Your address?” I rattle it off, knowing it’s useless to argue. Peeking at him from under my lashes, I wonder if he looks like a serial killer.

“I am perfectly fine, you know.” For some reason, I feel the need to point that out to him, even though we both know it’s not true; there is no way I should be driving myself home.

He turns to me, raising a brow. “I’m sure you are, Lia, but when I take a woman to dinner, I always make sure she arrives back home safely.”

“Oh,” I reply, his answer taking the fight out of me. It makes sense, right? He is just being a gentleman.

“I want you to call into work tomorrow and quit your job. I don’t think you need to bother with notice; it’s not likely you will ever use them for a future job reference.”

I nod my head in agreement, fighting the sleep threatening to claim me when his words finally hit me. What the hell? “Wh—What did you say?” Had I imagined the whole thing?

Without looking at me, he repeats his demand. I shake my head, completely confused. “What are you talking about? Why would I quit my job? Oh, no,” I gasp in horror, “are you trying to get me fired because of tonight? It was just cold medicine!”

His eyes are glittering in the darkness. “Baby, if I wanted to have you fired, I would. I want to fuck you, but not when you’re being paid to be my date.”

Oh, shit. I know I am more than a little intoxicated when my first reaction is being flattered. How can a man like Lucian Quinn want to fuck me? I’m a struggling college student with none of the flash of a woman like Monique. What could he possibly see in me? What is the appropriate response when a man says he wants to fuck you? “Ummm…that’s…thanks. I can’t quit my job; I need the money for school.” I reach over to pat his knee, adding, “You’re so hot, and I’m sure you can find another woman to…fuck.” There, that sounds good, right? I’m proud of my answer. I turned him down but also gave him a compliment. Way to think on your feet, Lia!

He puts his hand over mine, and I smile, thinking he appreciates my honesty. When he uses a firm grip to pull me closer to his side, I start to worry. Please tell me we aren’t on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. Does he resemble someone from America’s Most Wanted? His breath is hot on my neck as he whispers against my ear, “I want you, and I always get what I want.” He trails a finger down the side of my face before running the tip over my mouth. My lips part in surprise and before I think better of it, I touch his finger with the tip of my tongue. He inhales a breath, and I freeze, my eyes locking on his face.

I have no idea how long I’ve been staring at him when the driver clears his throat. I look out the window and recognize my apartment building. Lucian is still holding my hand as I turn to the door the driver is holding open. Lucian pulls me against him again, saying, “It wasn’t a question, Lia. Do it.” With those words, he releases me. I draw a ragged breath and stagger from the car. The driver insists on walking me to the door and waiting until I’m safely inside. Oh, God, he probably heard everything Lucian said to me, how embarrassing. No doubt, he is used to going home alone while his employer stays the night with whomever he is…fucking. Lucian Quinn is clearly a psycho. When the driver asks for my car key, I pull it from my ring and hand it over. I mutter a quick thank-you and dash inside.





Rose and Jake are sitting wrapped around each other on the couch. When I almost miss the chair trying to sit, Jake smirks at me saying, “Whoa, girl, how much did you have to drink tonight?”

I flop back, groaning, “Not as much as you think. It’s the damn Nyquil along with alcohol that did this. I’m lucky I didn’t face-plant in the middle of the restaurant.” I giggle as I imagine Lucian Quinn’s face if that had happened. It would almost have been worth the embarrassment to fall all over his expensive shoes.

“So, other than your public intoxication, how was the evening? Old dude or young?” Rose asks.

I roll my eyes, saying, “Young, hot one, but a little on the weird side. Didn’t you get the picture I sent you of him?”