Unbalanced

VIII

Lucien

Lucien failed to see what had upset Lita so badly. Sure, the women at the clothing store were irritating, but they were easy enough to ignore. They did try to insinuate that they were more desirable than she was, but she had to know how ridiculous that was. Didn’t she? Even if she weren’t breath takingly beautiful, which she was, Lucien thought she had more confidence than that. No, she was a warrior, there was no way she got her feelings hurt so easily. He must be reading too much into it. Maybe she just needed to blow off some steam. She hadn’t had the easiest week, he was sure. Come to think of it she was adjusting to the rapid changes in her narrative remarkably well. Or, maybe he had is head so far up his own ass that he had been oblivious to her feelings. By the gods, of course she lost it. He’d just go pick up something for them to eat and meet her back at the hotel. They could find Jared tomorrow morning; let her relax a little bit and absorb what had already been thrown at her before they pile more on top of it. Besides, there was no guarantee he would know anything anyway. Maybe a walk around the French Quarter would make her feel better. Honestly, if Lucian was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to find what they were looking for. Once he did, she wouldn’t need him around anymore, and he didn’t want to rush them to their goodbyes.

~~~

Nicoleta

Lita wasn’t sure where she was heading when she left Lucien in front of the store, but she found herself standing in front of their hotel debating whether or not to go upstairs. He probably went to tell those “beautiful women” he was free after all since he didn’t have to worry about her anymore. Gods, that was stupid. Why did she let them get under her skin? Why did she take off, leaving Lucien in the dust when he was trying to be good to her? “This is ridiculous!” She hissed at herself and stormed back up to their room.

“Great,” she grumbled, as she realized she left her clothes with Lucien. Kicking off her boots, she flopped onto her bed and buried her face under the pillows. She must have dozed off. She woke to a persistent banging on the door.

“Go away!” She yelled and pressed the pillows tighter against her ears.

“Lita! It’s me. Open the door!” Lucien replied.

Lita removed herself from the misery fort she built around herself and opened the door. No wonder Lucien couldn’t let himself in. Still carrying her shopping bags in one hand, he had a sack of something that smelled delicious in the other. He dumped the shopping bags on his bed, kicked off his own shoes, and climbed on her bed, shaking the food at her. Nic only resisted for a moment before he opened the bag and the sweet smell of whatever was inside snapped her will power like a twig. She climbed up to the head of the bed and sat cross-legged, facing Lucien in expectation.

She was not disappointed when she reached into the plain white paper sack and pulled out a beignet. “You went to Café du Monde?” She accused.

“Only the best for you,” he winked.

They silently enjoyed their sugary treasure for several moments before Lucien spoke again. “So were the beignets enough to make up for whatever I did to upset you?” He asked.

“You didn’t upset me,” she explained. “Not really. Honestly, I don’t even know why they bothered me so much,” she paused. “I guess because they hit on you right in front of me, like I was completely insignificant. I mean, they don’t know anything me. About us!” She told him. “Yet, they were so certain that you wouldn’t…”

“Hey,” Lucian pressed his knuckle to the hollow under her chin and gently lifted, “hey, look at me.”

Nic could feel the tears well up in her eyes again and she struggled to keep them from falling as she met his gaze. His eyes were striking. It felt as if he could see straight into her soul.

“You are so much more than they will ever be.” He told her. “How can you not see that?”

“I’m not,” she sighed. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but you don’t have to lie to me. I know what I look like.”

“You obviously have no idea what you look like, Lita.” He moved the empty bag out of the way and settled himself closer to her, she could feel his hip brushing against her knee as she picked at a loose thread in the sweatpants she wore.

Lucien brushed her hair back from her face and rested his hand against her cheek, gently rubbing back and forth with his thumb. “Lita, look at me,” he repeated.

He smiled as her eyes met his, “You are the most incredible woman I have ever met, and I’ve only known you three days,” he began. “Your eyes are so unique, so mesmerizing.” He shifted his hand and brought his thumb to trace her bottom lip. “Your mouth is…. Gods, and the way you bite your lip when you think I’m not looking.”

She could feel his gaze burning a trail from her suddenly dry mouth to her throat.

“Your skin is so soft, like silk,” he murmured. She wasn’t sure if he was talking to her anymore, or just lost in his thoughts. Either way, her heart was hammering inside her chest. She was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

“And, your body,” he glanced to his white shirt, which was far too big on her to show him anything about her body. “Your body is glorious.” He finished.

When his gaze crawled back up to her face, his eyes had darkened and his lashes were slightly lowered. Her breath hitched, and she sat frozen, staring into his eyes. She felt like she was swimming in them, she was going to drown in them. She didn’t notice that his hand had made its way back into its original position on her cheek. She didn’t even notice she had stopped breathing. Before she regained control of her body, Lucian groaned and carefully, as if waiting for her rejection, pressed his mouth to hers.

Whatever had been holding her in place snapped like a rubber band stretched too thin, and before she knew it, she was moving. She climbed to her knees, without breaking contact with his lips, and pressed herself against him. Finally, she thought, finally she could bury her hands in that messy hair, and she did. Gripping his hair, tightly, she pressed him closer to her. As his tongue swept against hers, she moaned at the taste of him. Lucien gripped her thighs and lead them to either side of his waist. She was putty in his hands. She couldn’t have resisted if she tried, which she didn’t, despite the nagging that had started in the back of her mind. There was some reason they weren’t supposed to be doing this, but at the moment, she really didn’t care.

With her legs wrapped around his waist, and him sitting up, as hungry as she was, she pressed herself against him and felt his arousal hard against her core. Her hips continued to rock of their own accord, grinding against him, her body begging to be closer. She was still trying to press herself even closer, desperate to be submerged in the sensation, when he bit her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The sharp sting only enhanced the pleasure rolling through her body, even as she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood on her tongue. By the gods, she never imagined a man could feel this good with so much fabric still between them. He groaned into her mouth, as she gripped the hem of his t-shirt and started tugging it upward. He moved both hands to her hips, grabbing roughly and rocking her harder against him as he shifted his own hips to press firmly against her core. “f**k,” he whispered as he pulled away from her lips to shift his attention to nip at her ear and jaw line. His shirt forgotten, she splayed his hands on his chest and moaned as his lips trailed kisses down her throat, accompanied by the roughness of his five o'clock shadow.

Lucien reached between them and unbuttoned his jeans, his other hand holding her head as she leaned back to give him easier access. His teeth grazed across her throat, and she whimpered at the intensity of the need building within her. Growling at the sound, he pried one of her hands out of his hair and led it to the throbbing part of himself that he had just freed. She wrapped her hand around his shaft just as a trill noise ripped through the room and destroyed whatever spell had been weaved between them.

“s**t,” they said at the same time, as they met each other’s eyes. The trilling came again, and Nic disentangled herself from Lucien as she realized it was a phone. She watched as Lucien stuffed himself back into his pants and reached to grab his phone from the nightstand.