Exposed: Laid Bare (8 page)

It was now nine in the evening. I’d eaten, but I still needed to take a shower. I was covered in dried sweat and God knew whatever else from my time with Lucien and the things we’d done.

Brushing my hair in front of the mirror above my dresser, I scanned my naked body.

There were light bruises and marks all over me from my night with Lucien. Nothing I couldn’t handle, though. Even the soreness I’d felt for so many days seemed to be dissipating, which was odd. My discomfort should have been worse today, certainly not better.

“It’s because you’re becoming his,” I whispered to my reflection. “You’re giving in to him.”

“Yes, you are,” a deep voice rang out from behind me, startling me so much that I jumped and spun around.

Shit, Lucien Chambers was in my bedroom.

“H-how did you get in here?” I stuttered in a shaky voice.

I was frightened, but I was also thrilled to see Lucien again so soon.

“D
oes it matter how I got in?” he asked, striding toward me. “The more apt question is: do you want me to leave?”

“Yes,” I replied, covering my naked body with my hands. “I mean no.”

He reached where I stood. I expected him to touch me, but he didn’t.

Peering down at me, Lucien—so tall and foreboding, me so weak and small—asked, “Well, which one is it, Miss Vaughn? Yes…or no?”

“Dahlia,” I whispered. “Call me by my first name.”

I was tired of formalities. We’d broken through all that crap our first night together. Or so I had thought. But the walls had been re-erected when I’d called him and he had so unkindly reminded me that we were essentially strangers. But surely all the things we’d done last night called for an intimacy beyond last names.

Lucien saw this in my eyes and read this in my head. He knew, and he said to me accordingly, “As you wish, Dahlia.”

I reached for a robe, but his strong hand caught my outstretched arm. “No,” he said curtly. “Stay as you are. You want honesty? Then keep yourself uncovered.”

Somehow I knew he meant more than my naked body. “You want my mind, as well?”

“I want all of you, Dahlia.”

“So, take all of me,” I urged.

And he did.

Lucien came at me. He picked me up and tossed me on the bed like I was a rag doll. “Oh,” I breathed out, excited by an even more aggressive version of him.

“Look at me,” he said, garnering my attention.

I watched as he took off all of his clothes, exposing his lean and sculpted body to my hungry gaze.

I wanted him so much.

Spreading my legs so he could see the effect he had on my body, I asked, “Do you do this to me?”

He stepped closer to the bed and dipped a finger between my legs. “As I told you last night, Dahlia, your reactions to me are your own.”

I fell onto my back and let him finger me. I spread my legs farther in an invitation for him to do with my body whatever he desired. But Lucien slid his fingers out of me.

“Why are you stopping?” I asked.

“I’m not,” he said as he crawled up the bed. “I’m just getting started.” He hovered over me, lowering his hips to the juncture between my thighs.

With his throbbing cock pressing at my entrance, he asked, “Do
you
do this to
me
?”

“You tell me,” I said.

With that, he thrust into me—encompassing me, owning me. I thought things would become rough and harsh, as they had the night before, but Lucien stilled and peered down at me. In a pained voice, he admitted, “You are my weakness, Dahlia.”

His eyes were normal tonight, no otherworldliness. I stared up into the rich brown pools, searching for more. I wanted to find meaning behind his words, more insight into this man…if he even was just a man. I also longed to ask how
I
could be
his
weakness, when it seemed the exact opposite was true.

But there was no chance to discern or ask anything. Lucien buried his face in the crux of my neck, and then got down to the business of fucking me senseless.

Time ceased to exist. The pleasure I experienced with him was again unparalleled. My entire body—no, my entire being—became one with Lucien. There was no more him and me, there was only us.

Afterward, I slept encircled in his strong arms. But unfortunately, when I awoke, he was gone from my bed.

“Lucien,” I called out.

Silence.

I sat up and pulled the sheet we’d left wrinkled and damp around my bare body. It was then I noticed all my bruises and marks from our earlier encounters were gone.

“That’s impossible,” I murmured.

But no, the truth was before me. I was healed.

Lucien had healed me. Now, I really needed to see him.

I knotted the sheet at my chest to keep it in place and stood. I hurried to the living room, but no one was there.

Lucien Chambers was gone. I felt it in my heart.

Collapsing onto the sofa, I let out a long breath. “No,” I cried out. “He can’t be gone.”

I shifted my weight and felt something slide beneath me. Lifting my ass, I glanced down to see what was there.

Aah, all the photographs I’d printed.

Quickly, I moved aside and gathered the images. All the shots of Lucien appeared to be in order.

But wait… All were accounted for, except for one.

“No, no, no,” I cried as I dropped the photos back onto the sofa and raced over to the computer.

It seemed to take forever to boot up. “Come on, come on,” I urged the machine.

At last, when everything was up and running I accessed my folders. The folder marked
Private
—the one with all the sexy shots of me—was still there, as was the folder with the normal pics of Lucien. I opened that folder, and like with all the printed pictures, the pictures I’d taken of him were in order.

Except for one…one picture had been deleted.

“You erased it,” I whispered. “And you took the one printed photo that could have exposed you for who you really are. You took the one picture that would show the world you’re more than just a man.”

In my head I heard Lucien laughing. Laughing, as he admitted, “Yes, Dahlia, I took the photo. I took what you should never have captured.”

And in that instant, all went silent.

There was no more Lucien in my head, and my body no longer felt in that constant state of arousal.

I felt only two things now—tired and spent.

I would never again see Lucien. Sure, I might run into him somewhere someday, but our time together as I knew it, however short, was over.

Bereft in a profound way, I crumpled to the ground.

I would complete my assignment, I vowed. I’d turn in the shots of Lucien. They were good photographs, capturing a confident and successful business man, but I no longer cared about the accolades I’d receive.

I felt too lost to care about anything.

How could I ever forget what I knew about Lucien Chambers? I had seen
more, been touched by more. I was different now because of the things he’d exposed to me. I knew in my soul I was still connected to Lucien in some visceral way. He may have tried to break our connection, but it was still there. Faintly, yes, but not completely severed.

So where was I supposed to go from here?

D
ays passed, weeks passed, months passed. My photos of Lucien ran in the magazine. I received several accolades, as I’d expected. I even won a small award.

But it all meant nothing.

I got up every day. I ate, I showered, I worked, and I slept. On the weekends, I spent time with Veronica, watching movies or ordering in food. I never went out socially. I had no desire to date or meet men.

How could any man ever compare to what I had experienced?

Veronica tried to cheer me up, but it was of no use. I was empty, incomplete. Something was missing. And I knew what that something was—Lucien.

It was ridiculous of me to hold onto him like this. He’d moved on. There were photos of him out with models—dating, living his life. Never a clear shot of him, he didn’t allow that, but the paparazzi had caught him out a time or two.

On a wintry March morning, with a thick carpet of snow still on the ground, I bundled up in a heavy sweater, high boots, and a bulky coat, and drove north of the city.

“This is crazy,” I told myself as I pulled into a lot in a public park, a public park not far from Lucien’s estate. The park was empty, save for a flock of Canada geese out on the ice-covered lake.

“I need to do this,” I whispered, glancing up at my reflection in the rearview mirror.

I looked tired, with dark circles under my eyes. The past two months had been rough. No Lucien, no hits of whatever it was he gave to me.

Well, I was here to get my fix, even if it was only from afar.

I got out of the car and walked in the direction of Lucien’s estate, trudging through heavy drifts of snow like they were nothing. I was on a mission.

I’d not felt Lucien’s presence in so long. This was my experiment to see if narrowing the geography between us would result in re-establishing his connection with me. I’d not felt him in my head since the morning he’d left me.

We were still tethered, though, and I missed him.

Continuing on through the heavy snow, I worked my way to the edge of the lake. With no leaves on the trees, I was hoping Lucien’s mansion would be visible up at the northernmost tip of the large body of water.

So, I headed north.

Unfortunately, it was slow going as there was lots of ice around the lake. I walked and walked, still, and as I made my way along the lake shore, the geese honked at me as if I were an intruder. I supposed in their iced-over world I was an unwelcome sight.

“Sorry,” I mumbled when I passed an exceptionally noisy group.

“Or would that be a gaggle?” I said to myself, smiling at my own random musings.

Suddenly, to my utter shock and surprise, someone answered.

“That would indeed be a gaggle, Miss Vaughn,” a smooth male voice replied.

I spun to face whoever had snuck up on me. However, I knew before I turned around whom I’d find standing there. I knew not just from the voice, a voice I missed, but from the
presence
I felt.

“Lucien,” I whispered, “you’re here.”

I smiled, and he smiled back at me, as dashing as ever. He was bundled up in a long black overcoat and a gray wool scarf. His dark hair was a little mussed and slightly longer than usual, making him look wild and untamed.

“Dahlia,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue deliciously, like the day he’d first uttered it.

Oh, how I burned for this man
. I longed to tell him how much I had missed him, but there was no need.

“I missed you, too,” he quietly replied.

“This is crazy,” I said as I stood there and simply stared at him.

He threw back his head and laughed. “Indeed, it is.” He offered me his arm. “Come, Dahlia, walk with me.”

When I touched him, looping my arm through his, it felt as if I’d come home. Relaxed in a way I’d not known in months, I leaned into him. “Are you mad I’m here?” I asked.

“No,” was his simple reply.

And then we walked in silence. We continued in the direction I’d been heading, to the north end of the lake. And as I’d anticipated, Lucien’s looming stone mansion was completely visible from that vantage point. What I hadn’t anticipated, though, was the perfectly cleared trail leading to his home.

“Is that where you came from?” I asked, looking up at Lucien as we came to a stop.

His dark eyes met mine. “I came from behind you,” he reminded me. “If I’d taken the trail, you would have seen me heading in your direction.”

I had no response other than, “Good point.”

A beat passed, and then I asked, “Where do we go from here, Lucien?”

My question was laden with double meaning.

We resumed walking, and he chuckled. “That depends on you, Dahlia.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” His tone implied,
now sit with that
.

As we neared the cleared trail, I asked, “So, where are we heading right now?”

“To my house, if that’s okay with you.”

Was he kidding?
“Of course it’s okay with me,” I replied.

Confused, however, I halted my steps. When Lucien did the same, I said, “Just one thing.”