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Margot looks convinced and I can tell that she would much rather be having fun than being worried.
“My brother is not doing so well and I just need a distraction,” I say quietly.
“Oh, babe,” Margot says and rubs my shoulders. “Sure thing babe. I had customers from hell today,” she whisper to me. “I could use some relief. Let me finish closing up and then we’ll go to the club.”
When we slink backstage, my stomach turns at little at how poorly the last dance ended. But everything before that was fun, and this time should be fun, too.
Margot and I pick a good ballad and tease out our hair. This is for us. The fact that our boobs are pushed up so high they might touch our noses is basically beside the point.
I already feel lighter and happier.
When the music starts, she and I go out and dance as if there is no one there to watch and it’s just she and I having fun.
But I do look to the audience as our number ends … and I can’t believe what I’m seeing!
Gian is in the audience, meeting with that same man from before. And though I see Gian grit his teeth, he gives me a small smile. I know he’s trying to let me do my own thing and that neither of us wants to have another fight.
Which may have worked out perfectly fine if a guy several tables up hadn’t grabbed my ass when I got closer to the end of the stage.
It happens so fast that I almost don’t process it. Gian punches that guy right in the face, hard enough for blood to spatter on Gian’s crisp white shirt and make a loud, wet sound that makes me cringe.
Some security guys cart the guy off, who looks so shocked. I bet that guy never grabs another ass in his life, and good riddance.
But now Gian is totally pissed.
“You just don’t know how to keep your women under control. Though this situation is definitely much better than our little murderous wife cadre,” the man with Gian says.
Oh God.
Gian is married. That has to be what that means. But I see Gian every day and I know that he was living in that penthouse suite. I should be angrier, but I trust Gian to know that there is more to this story. I still don’t want to fight with Gian.
“Take me home, when you can,” I say to Gian.
Gian narrows his eyes at the man he was talking to. “It’s done for. Square?”
“Square,” that man says, and he walks out of the club.
Margot walks over to Gian and I, and I give her a hug. “We have bad luck with hobbies, so I guess it probably wouldn’t be safe to put us near knitting needles or anything,” I say to her with a laugh.
She laughs nervously.
Gian is nice enough to smile tentatively.
“I’m going to head home for the night. Breakfast tomorrow, Lucy?” Margot says with her own weak smile.
“Definitely babe. Though I’m probably going to see Tommy tomorrow, so it’ll be quick,” I tell her. That’s when the nurse on duty had said would be the first day that I could visit. I can’t wait to see Tommy, even though I know he’s been through hell. I want to see him and hug him and tell him that soon he’ll be on the other side of all of this.
“Yeah, sure thing,” Margot says and turns to leave.
“Lucy, I have to tell you…” Gian starts.
“Take me upstairs and fuck me, Gian,” I say, stepping up on my tiptoes and wrapping my arms around Gian’s neck. “I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to talk. I’m worried about Tommy and I just need to feel you inside me right now.”
“Hard to argue with that,” Gian says, eyes hooded with lust, his finger gliding along my jawline.
I need him so badly right now … I really don’t want to fight or talk about anything until I work out all the tension that built right back up inside of me with this incident.
I grab his other hand and see that the blood on his knuckles isn’t his, and I wipe it off on the tank top I’m wearing.
Something about this amuses Gian and we head for the elevator, time suspended from the tension at hand because we’re both thinking about how much we want to fuck.
12
Gian
“I want you inside me now, Gian,” Lucy says. Her eyes are pleading. Is this a distraction because of the argument? Is this because of the argument — Lucy doesn’t strike me as that type, but there are women who enjoy that sort of getting riled and getting defiled thing. Or can this be what I truly hope it is … that she wants me?
Or worse of all, is she just saying this because Lucy is afraid of the consequences otherwise?
