Jake has been protective of me since his friend Jackson broke my heart last year. It was my first and last sexual experience. We had been going out for about a month before I finally caved to pressure and slept with him. What a mistake. It had hurt like Hell and was over before it had even started. Could I only have an orgasm at my own hands? Rose talked about sex with Jake as if it was earth-shaking, but for me, the earth hadn’t moved. I got out of bed afterwards to use the bathroom, and he had gasped, “What the fuck?” When I turned to look at him, he was pointing to my back. “What’s wrong with you? Shit, do you have something contagious?” He frantically threw his clothes on, acting like he had just had sex with someone with the clap.
“It’s just a scar,” I had replied before wrapping my arms around myself. He made me feel self-conscious and dirty. Jake was furious when he heard Jackson telling some of their friends that I ‘was all messed up’ under my clothes. He knew from Rose what my stepfather had done to me and almost physically came to blows with his friend over it. Since then, they barely spoke anymore. Jake was a good person and wouldn’t tolerate anyone mistreating one of his friends. What would it be like to have a man like that to love and be loved by? Rose is damn lucky.
Chapter Three
Lia
The rest of the week is a blur of too much studying and too little sleep. On the rare occasions when I find myself in bed at a decent time, the sexy Lucian Quinn haunts my dreams. I am munching on a muffin and drinking a huge cup of coffee at the campus coffee shop when my cellphone chimes. I pull it from my backpack, figuring it’s Rose. It’s a process of elimination, really; very few people have my number and even fewer of them actually call or text.
“Did you do as you were told?”
I study my phone in confusion, not recognizing the number. Finally, I type back:
“Wrong number, buddy.”
Tossing my phone down on the table, I am surprised when it chimes again almost instantly.
“I don’t think so, Lia.”
“What the hell?” I look around as if expecting Rose to be hiding in the corner, laughing her ass off. No one seems to be paying me any attention, though, and there was no Rose nearby.
“Who is this?”
“I’m truly hurt. You’ve been on my mind for days, sweet Lia, but apparently, I haven’t been on yours.”
This is starting to get scary. Surely, Jackson isn’t playing some type of nasty trick on me. He’s an asshole, but I haven’t heard from him in months.
“Listen, whoever you are; I’m busy, so unless you want to tell me who this is, piss off.”
It isn’t in my nature to be rude, but I don’t want to encourage some weirdo.
“Wow, in just a few days, I’ve gone from being a God to you to being told to piss off. How the mighty have fallen.”
I drop my phone as if I’ve been burned. “No way.” Lucian Quinn is texting me? This has to be some kind of joke, but who else would know what he is saying? Tentatively, I type:
“Lucian?”
“Unless you’ve met another God this week.”
Oh, my God! I try not to question the excitement coursing through my veins as my phone chimes again almost immediately.
“Now, back to my earlier question. Did you do what you were told?”
“Um…I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Quinn.”
“It’s Luc…and you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I lay my head on the table. He meant it. He really wanted me to quit my job so he could…fuck me. Oh, shit on a stick. The man is officially crazy. That actually explains a lot.
“Listen, MR. QUINN, I’m flattered you want to…you know, but I have no intention of quitting my job or doing…that.”
I wait on pins and needles, both wanting and dreading his reply. What could a man like Lucian Quinn really want with an inexperienced college student? If he thinks I’m one of the Girls Gone Wild co-eds, he is sadly mistaken.
“Oh, Lia, you never challenge a man like me. I promise you; you’ll do everything I want you to do and beg for more. I’ll see you soon.”
My face flushes and desire races through my body. My nipples harden into stiff peaks as I picture the scene in my head: the beautiful Lucian Quinn fucking me. I find myself more excited at just the thought than of my entire sexual experience with Jackson. A few words from Lucian…Luc, and I’m ready to go off. Surely, he is just playing with me. Regardless though, his face is firmly etched in my mind and his name on my lips later as I finger myself frantically into release.
“Are you working tonight, chick?” Rose asks as I walk into the living room dressed in my usual escort attire. Being a poor college student doesn’t leave much room for variety. I have invested in a few outfits for my job, but the little black dress is the go-to choice.
“Yep, I’m meeting someone for a party at Valentino’s. It looks like another business thing. At least those don’t require much conversation.”
Rose flips the television channel, before asking, “Is this someone new again?” She looks disappointed when I nod. “Oh, well, I guess you couldn’t get lucky enough to have the God again, huh?”
Without understanding why, I decide not to mention Lucian’s earlier text messages to her. What’s the point, really? I doubt I’ll hear from him again. Maybe he’s some kind of weirdo that gets his kicks teasing women. A pang of disappointment pierces me at the thought of never seeing him again. How could someone I barely know have this type of effect on me? Rose reminds me to write the name of the restaurant and the person I’m meeting on the notepad in the kitchen. We started this routine on my first assignment with Date Night. Rose then joked about making it easy for the police to find my body if I don’t make it home one night. There have been a few men over the years who wanted to test the boundaries, but none who haven’t accepted the word no.
I look down at the name I write beside Valentino’s. Aidan Spencer. He sounds harmless enough. With a goodbye wave to Rose, who is now firmly engrossed in a Lifetime movie, I set off for another long evening. Do I wish it was with Lucian Quinn and not Aidan Spencer? Unequivocally, yes.
Chapter Four
Lia
Walking into Valentino’s, I look around in confusion. Aidan Spencer is supposed to be waiting at the bar. I’m grateful for that information because otherwise, I would have no hope of finding him in the crowd of people milling around. The bar is packed, but mainly with couples. Of course, he could be talking to someone. There is a dark-haired man sitting alone at one end watching football on the big-screen television above the bar. I straighten my dress and decide to try him first. Taking a deep breath, I tap him on the shoulder. “Mr. Spencer?” He takes his time sitting down the drink he is holding before swiveling around on the barstool. I jerk back in surprise, stuttering, “Luc—Lucian?” Shit, I know I sound like an idiot, but I can’t control my shock at seeing him again. Dear Lord, he’s hot.