Unbalanced

VII

Nic stayed in the shower for a long time after turning the water off. First, because she was sure that when she walked out into the room, Lucien would be there, and would give her that smirk that said ”I know you want me,” and she would die of embarrassment on the spot. Second, because she was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. What was she thinking? He was a WRAITH! For the love of the gods, she could not start thinking about him that way! Besides, how could she think about anybody that way after seeing her living nightmare in that alley? And, lastly, because she had to give her legs another moment to steady. She had taken care of her own desires before, of course, but it had never felt like that.

To make matters worse, when she finally stepped onto the tile floor and reached for a towel, she realized she didn’t grab clothes. Actually, she amended, she didn’t have clothes. She completely forgot to get some before they headed up here. “Well, you can’t stay in the bathroom, forever. Might as well get it over with,” she mumbled to herself while she wrapped the towel around her body.

When she stepped into the room, Lucien was lying across his bed staring at the ceiling. He only looked her way when the door closed behind her with a soft click. Her cheeks flushed as she considered what that meant in terms of his hearing. His eyes raked from her wet hair and blushing cheeks to take in the towel she was wrapped in and the long expanse of her legs it left bare. Then, he shot off the bed so fast she barely saw him move and spun to put his back to her. It was then that she realized how little the towel covered.

Lucien

Lucien stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him and cursed his treasonous body. Sweet Zeus, he just came all over himself a few minutes ago, how was he this hard, again? He tried to adjust himself as discreetly as possible, as he again strained painfully against his jeans. He was going to have to switch to sweatpants at this rate.

“I.. uh… don’t have anything to put on.” Lita said softly.

For f**k’s sake! He ripped open his duffel bag and tossed the sweats and t-shirt she wore before over his head, as he clenched his eyes against the image of her standing there in that towel. All wet hair, flushed cheeks, and smooth leg; the way that too small towel separated at the bottom and teased him with the sliver of skin shown from her thigh to her hip bone. Shaking his head, he turned to lie back down, assuming she had gone back into the bathroom to change. He was wrong. She was just standing there, watching him.

“Jesus, Lita, get dressed.” He snapped quite a bit more harshly than he intended.

“S- sorry,” she whispered as her cheeks flushed again, and she bent to slip her feet into the sweats he had thrown at her.

Lucien groaned as the towel slipped further and more of her pale skin was exposed to his gaze. He watched as Lita turned to face the wall beside her and dropped the towel. Jesus f*****g Christ, he thought as his eyes roamed the smooth skin on her back and saw just enough of her breast to make his mouth water.

“What’d you say?” She asked him as his shirt fell into place, allowing him to process thought again, and she turned to face him.

Shit. Did he say that out loud? “Uh, nothing,” he stammered, uncharacteristically.

She noticed, too, he thought as he watched her nose wrinkle in confusion. He couldn’t help but smile at the face she made.

“What are you smiling at?” She demanded, adding her eyebrows to the expression, as well.

“Just the way your face scrunches when your confused,” he laughed.

She immediately wiped the expression from her face and rolled her eyes at him.

Thankful for the distraction, he laid back down as he fought to regain control of his body. Truthfully, the clothes didn’t help all that much. Seeing his own clothes wrapped around her body and knowing that it would leave his scent on her skin was satisfying in a way he had never experienced before. It was as if it marked her as his. He liked the sound of that far more than he wanted to admit. He got up and stomped to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of sweats for himself, on the way. “What the f**k is wrong with you?” He said to his reflection, “She’s Fane’s daughter!”

Nicoleta

Nic sat on her bed and leaned against the headboard. She tried not to notice the way his jeans had strained and the size of the bulge underneath them, as he laid across the bed, refusing to look at her. It wasn’t an easy image to banish, but it did make her feel a little bit better about her own ridiculous thoughts. At least she wasn’t the only one suffering.

When he came out of the bathroom several minutes later, wet and shirtless, in his sweatpants, she pretended to be asleep. She was coward, but she was willing to accept that. She was not willing to see what would’ve happened if the night continued along the path it was on.

~~~

When the sunlight streaming into the room woke her, she was alone. She sat up and scanned the room, and groaned as she realized the first thing she did upon waking was to look for Lucien. Although, it’s not that absurd, she thought. Of course she would look to see if he was here. They’ve been travelling together for days and she needed his help if she were to find out what happened to her parents. It didn’t mean anything. Right?

A moment later, Lucien entered the room with a cup of coffee in one hand a 20 oz. bottle of cola in the other.

“My hero,” she cooed as he handed her the ice cold, bubbly, serving of caffeine.

“Don’t gush,” he warned her, “it isn’t good for my ego.”

Shaking her head, she twisted the cap and took a long swallow of her drink. She politely pretended not to notice Lucien watching her throat as she swallowed. “Okay, what now?”

“Well, I made a few phone calls while you slept,” he started, “and I think I know where Jared is.”

“Jared?” She repeated. “is that the guy we’re looking for?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “and he’s still in New Orleans.”

“Ooh, the suspense is killing me,” she fanned herself with her hand, and pretended to swoon.

“Nice to see it takes finding another man to excite you,” he smirked.

“Oh, Lucy, I’m sure you're man enough for any girl,” she continued, blinking her eyes rapidly in an exaggeration of flirting.

“Lucy?” He asked. “I’d be more than happy to prove myself to you, baby.” He drawled raising one eyebrow.

Nic found herself flushed again. Gah! Why did he have this effect on her?

“Ahem,” Lucian cleared his throat and dropped the act. “Anyway, he has an apartment not far from here. We should go.”

“Any chance I can get some clothes first?” She asked. “I can’t keep wearing yours.”

“Of course you can,” he said, “… get some new clothes, I mean.” He finished, shifting his gaze away from her.

~~~

An hour later, they were in a small boutique on Bourbon Street, and Nic was shifting through clothing racks as quickly as she could. As generous as Lucien was, patiently following her from one rack to another, she was pretty sure he wasn’t enjoying himself. Also, she was starting to get irritated at the way every other woman in the store gawked at him when they walked by. I mean seriously, she could be his wife for all they knew! Yeah, it was definitely time to go if she was thinking about being his wife.

“Alright, this’ll do,” she told him, shaking her head.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I don’t mind being here if you need more.”

“Nope, I’m good.”

When they made their way to the counter she dumped her findings and reached in the pocket of the sweatpants she was still wearing to fish out her wallet. She could say one good thing about wearing his pants. Pockets! Seriously, what do fashion companies think women have against pockets?

“Oh wow, look at him,” she heard one of the women in line behind them whisper. Loudly.

“Seriously?” She groaned. “Does that not bother you?” She asked him.

“I usually just ignore it,” he told her.

“Excuse me,” the woman said, talking directly to Lucien, now.

“My friend and I were just wondering,” she giggled at what must have been her “friend.” “If you were gonna be busy later,” she finished, still giggling.

“Are you f*****g kidding me?” Nic blurted. “You do see that he isn’t here alone, right?”

“Uh, well, I guess I didn’t think he would be with…” she trailed off.

“With what?” she demanded, “Go ahead, blondie. Finish the sentence.”

“Okay…” Lucien stepped in before things could get any worse. “As much as I appreciate the offer, ladies,” he looped his arm around Lita’s shoulders and pulled her against him, “as you can see, I am unavailable this evening.”

“Well, what about-,” the friend started.

Lucien tightened his grip on Nic when she strained against him, her hand balled into a fist at her side. “I am unavailable every evening, for anyone but her,” he told them matter-of-factly.

“If you say so,” she retorted, flipping her hair back and trying, in vein, to maintain her dignity.

Still holding Nic tightly against his side, and preventing her from removing her hand from her pocket, Lucien paid for her clothes, and steered her out the door holding her bags. “Lita,” he started, as soon as they hit the sidewalk. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

“They were disgusting,” she turned on him, “how do you stand it?”

“How do I stand beautiful women inviting me to threesomes?” He asked.

“Ugh, seriously?” Lita threw her hands in the air and turned away from him. Of course he thought those tramps were beautiful. They had the kind of look that all guys fell for. Blonde hair, big t**s, and long legs crammed into too small outfits with plunging necklines. Geez, they looked like hookers.

“Lita!” She heard Lucien hollering for her and she kept walking. There was no way she was going to let him see the tears gathering in her eyes.

“Lita!” Lucian called, one last time, before he faded into the crowd.