Chapter 34

Lucien’s POV

“Why are you coming in?” Corrigan asks when I walk into her suite after her. She is holding her earrings in her hands, her eyes wide. I close the door behind me, my arms folded, and I watch her.

“Maybe because I want to talk to you and to get you to stop ignoring me.” I say.

She smiles humorlessly and nods. “Okay. Perfect.” She puts down her earrings in the nightstand and lets out a huge breath. “Fucking perfect.” She mutters.

“Corrigan…”

“Now, you want to talk. You want to talk now?” She demands.

I know she is angry so I wait, leaning against the door. She is clenching and unclenching her fists and I wonder if she will toss things at me again.

“And then what?” she asks. “Then what? You get angry that someone dented your “masculine ego” and storms off?”

“I overreacted, Corrigan, I know,” I say.

“No shit.” She mutters, reaching behind her to get her necklace off. I walk to her, ignoring her obvious lack of enthusiasm to have me anywhere near her, and take her by the shoulders, turning her around. This is the closest we have been to each other since that night. She is nervous. I can feel her body heat and almost hear the sound of her heartbeat.

“Now what?” she asks. “Why are you here, Lucien? Celibacy taking a toll on you? Or you just remembered you had me locked up in here?”

I push her hair back from her nape. “You know, despite your low opinion of me, I don't spend my days with an unending hard-on.” I whisper, watching her face turn red. I push her hair behind her shoulder and deftly take the claps in my hands, undoing then.

She steps away from me immediately, almost like I sting, taking the necklace in her hands and puts it down in the nightstand.

“So what do you want, Lucien?” she asks, sitting down on the bed to take her shoes off. I watch her. She gets the first one off and the second one follows.

“Well if you'd excuse me, I would like to shower.” She says, standing. I shrug.

“Okay.” I say, settling in the seat by the vanity. She stares at me.

“Aren't you supposed to leave?” she asks expectantly. I shake my head.

“You go in.” I say. Her eyes narrow.

“Corrigan,” I say, taking my phone out. “I swear on my honor—not that you believe I have much of it, anyway—that I’ll stay in here the whole time. I’m not coming in unless you ask me to.”

“You'll be waiting a long time.” She says.

“I’ve heard that anticipation heightens pleasure, pet.”

Her jaw clenches and she goes into the bathroom, banging it closed behind her with a resounding thud.

She takes two eternities and thirty centuries to be done showering, almost as if she’s waiting for me to go away . Well, she would have to wait a long time for that. When she finally walks out, she is staring at me like she expects me to pounce on her.

While nothing would give me more pleasure, I doubt that would get me in her good books.

She gets into bed stiffly, almost warily, eyes never leaving my form. I smile at her and stand, watching with exasperation as she starts. I roll my eyes.

“Believe it or not, Corrigan,” I say wearily. “I am not the kind to attempt sex with a female who looks like she is ready to bite my head off. Force was never my style.”

“Of course.” She says. “Coercive persuasion works just fine.”

I wink at her. “You know me too well.”

With that, I walk into the shower.

Corrigan’s POV

I shut my eyes so tight that colors dance behind my lids. I can hear the sound of running water from the shower and I swallow, beckoning sleep. It seems far away now. I can almost hear the thudding of my heart. My eyes snap shut when the water stops and the door to the bathroom swings open. I hear the padding of footsteps on the floor.

“Corrigan.” He says softly. I lie on my side stiffly, refusing to do anything but breathe. He lets out a huge sigh.

“Well then,” he says, I can hear him walking towards the bed. “Good thing you’re asleep then. I wouldn’t want to freak you out by sleeping in the raw…”

Without thinking, I shoot up from the bed, my eyes wide.

“What the fuck…”

He is wearing the Hotel robe and he is drying his hair with a towel, all the while double over in uncontrollable laughter. My cheeks heat in mortification and I toss a pillow at him. It does nothing but increase his laughter. He tosses it back to the bed, his hands going to the belt of his robe.

“Don’t even think of it.” I ground out. He shrugs, his hands in the air.

“I don’t have anything sexual in mind, pet.” He says. “I just want to talk. And maybe get some sleep.”

“Get some sleep in your own suite.” I say.

He undoes the belt of his robe and lets it fall to the floor, but not before I can look away, throwing the covers over my head. He chuckles and I feel the bed dip on the other side.

He touches my shoulder and I flinch, scooting away. He sighs and lies back.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, suddenly weak and tired of fighting.

“Maybe because I hurt you and I want to apologize?” he says.

“We’ve done this so often it’s become muscle memory.” I say. “You get angry over something that is absolutely no one’s fault and then pin it on me. Then you get sober and sorry and you call yourself an asshole. Then I accept your apology and forget everything that happened. Not tonight, Lucien. I’m sorry.”

He remains silent for so long, the sounds of our breathing the only sounds in the room. He remains that way for so long I almost think he is asleep.

“I was raised by a gamma family who worked in the pack house.” He says out of the blue, startling me. I look at him. He is staring up at the ceiling blankly. I remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“They were really nice to me. The Frasers.” He says. “they had no kids of their own. I was going to work as a landscaper in the pack house, I knew the woods around there like nobody’s business. Then I started going on training and getting better at it.”

“You said the family that raised you was named the Frasers?” I ask, despite my resolution to remain silent. He chuckles.

“Probably wondering where “Blackthorn” came from, huh?” he says. “It was a way of reinventing myself. After the Frasers died, I…” he takes a deep breath. “I wanted a new phase.”

“Must have hurt when they died, huh?” I say.

“Like hell.” He says, chuckling. “I don’t know my mother. I don’t blame her for leaving. She must have had a real reason to.

But I don’t think I want to meet her. Sometimes in life, it’s better to retain your illusions on a topic. It’s the only thing holding you together “

I swallow. “Why are you telling me this, Lucien?”

“I have to let it go.” He says a bit ruefully. “So do I keep telling you my sob story or do I turn my back and fall asleep?”

I roll my eyes and turn on my side, tucking my palms beneath my cheek. “Talk.”

I wake up with my back pressed against Lucien’s chest. His hand is placed on my hip carelessly like it belongs there. I can hear his soft snoring in my ear, along with the heat of his breath against my hair. His leg has been thrown over mine in reckless abandon, but it doesn’t feel oppressive or heavy.

I can feel his body heat from his chest and it is almost painfully obvious that he is in the nude. I have to admit, though, that this is a nice feeling. I am tempted to snuggle closer to him, to ease out all the wrinkles of his past from him. I feel guilty about Dante framing Lucien through me once again.

I just had to pile on more hurt on him than he already had.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice in my ear is gravelly and groggy from sleep.

“You’re awake.” I remark weakly, smiling.

“Bonus points for observation.” He says dryly, easing away so he can look at me. “Are you alright?” he asks. I nod, putting on my most convincing smile. It seems to satisfy him. He straightens, turning to me

“You might want to look away, pet.” He says, smiling when I look away, my face burning. I hear the rustle of sheets as he gets up from bed. I hear him put on a robe and feel the bed dip as he leans in to kiss my cheek.

“Thanks a lot for last night, pet.”