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I spot one of my favorite retro landmarks on the Queens side, the Pepsi Cola sign. It warms my heart to see the huge neon cursive letters, reminding me of being in the back seat of the car when my father or Tatum would drive us home from a party or wedding in the city.
After what feels like an interminable drive, we finally pull up to my house. The instant Lucian puts the car into park, I unsnap the seat belt, throw the door open, and plant my foot on the sidewalk.
“Don’t you dare,” comes a gruff warning. “Close the door, and don’t move until I say so.”
With a long string of muttered complaints, I do what he says. It’s bad enough that I’m wearing a short mini dress that barely covers my smarting butt, but now I must stay put until Lucian gets out of the driver’s seat, rounds the car, and opens my door.
He extends his hand, helping me out. I grudgingly take it, but instead of letting me go, he crowds me against the car.
He slaps a hand on either side of me, and says, “I don’t know who taught you your manners, but from now on, you wait for me to open the door for you.”
He dips his head until we’re eye-to-eye. “Understand?”
“Yeah, okay,” I mutter resentfully. I try to slip out from underneath his arm and rush away, but he backs me up against the car again.
With a brittle smile, he says, “In what world do you think I’m not going to walk you to your door?”
I hear the resolve in his tone of voice and panic rises up my throat. Good God, does he intend to meet my mother? “It’s not necessary.”
“And I will introduce myself to your mother.”
“No,” I cry out in horror, and then rush to temper it with an excuse. “It’s late. She’s already asleep.”
He smirks at me. “Come now, who do you take me for? Nomafiemama is going to sleep before her unmarried daughter is locked up tight for the night.”
I wince at his remark. My mom hasn’t been a normalmafiemom for a while now. Truth is, I don’t know what state I’ll find her at this time of night, but there’s no way can I have Lucian in my house.
Trying a different tactic, I place a hand on his chest and give him pleading eyes. “Please, Lucian, it’s late. Why don’t you walk me up to my door and come by tomorrow afternoon to speak with her.”
I try to school my expression. He looks like he’s about to agree, but then sees something he doesn’t like on my face. Most likely it’s the panic I can’t hide.
A muscle in his temple jumps and he replies, “No, we’re doing this tonight.”
“Please,” I whine, frustration and fear beating against my chest bone.
His eyes narrow at me. “You’re hiding something.”
“I’m not,” I deny indignantly.
Of course, I am.
God only knows what I’ll find in there. I wasn’t home to watch Mama this evening. I left for Crina’s house in the afternoon to have her do my makeup and hair since I’m hopeless with that kind of stuff. Who knows how much Mama’s been drinking. She may be peacefully sleeping in her bed—pray God—or she might be sprawled out on the living room couch or, God forbid, in the hallway leading up to her bedroom.
Anything is possible and I can’t have him witnessing it.
I grab his arms, which flex under my touch, and kiss him hard on the mouth. Normally, I wouldn’t dare touch him, especially in public. It’s dangerous to kiss him again, he’s so addictive, but I have to distract him.
Lucian opens instantly, groaning as he takes my mouth. Shoving me against the car, he grinds into me. His cock is getting stiff and damn but that feels good. I can’t help but rub against him. I clasp the lapels of his jacket and drag him closer, but he breaks off the kiss and steps away.
Smoothing down his jacket, he says, “Nice try, but I’m never distracted from my goal. Might want to keep that in mind, precious.”
Dazed, I let him take my arm. He peels me off the car and frog-marches me up the stoop to my door. Assuming my mother won’t hear the bell, I push him aside, flip the doormat up, and pluck up the key.
He shudders out a breath of disbelief. “You did not just take the front door key from underneath thedoormat. That’s…that’s…” He looks positively enraged.
“Yeah, yeah, a security breach, I know.” I shove the key into the lock and explain, “It’s not a big deal, Lucian. Alex’s family lives down the street. The security is insane, and anyway, no one’s looking to break into our house.”
Lucian claps his hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth. “Jesus, I should give you a spanking for that. We’ve talked about this.”
