And now that money paid to get him out of jail and get him out of his mistakes. They were feeding his sickness by bailing him out of every problem, and it was a problem I’d have to deal with.
“He does. Lucy knows more details. She really hates talking about him though. These gifts will fuck with her mind. It seems like it will never stop. I don’t know what else I can do.” The heartache in Logan’s voice made me want to run and hug him. He had no idea how much he had helped me over the last year; without him, I would have completely fallen apart. He was strong and held me together while I cried every night or woke up from night terrors. Logan would squeeze me tight, not caring that I was sweating through my clothes. I’d wake up sobbing, my body shaking. He’d stroke my hair, kiss my damp forehead and tell me I was never alone, that he was here.
Logan always fought for me. He stood in front of me like a knight, fighting every threat. No matter how bloody and bruised he got, he never left me vulnerable to an attack, but I had no idea how much this Brian situation affected him.
Maybe he felt vulnerable too. There was only so much someone could do against a mentally sick individual. My body felt heavy, and my knees gave out, causing me to slide down the wall until my stinging ass hit the floor.
It was all my fault that Logan was miserable. It was my fault Brian wouldn’t leave me alone. It was my fault Maria was brought into the situation. Everyone around me was at risk.
And there was nothing I could do.
Maybe I should give into Brian, and then the world would right itself.
Chapter Twelve
Godrick
I was a fucking mess on the inside. This was why I never crossed that line between love and lust. It fucked people up mentally, and I didn’t like my mind to be clouded and unfocused on anything other than my goals in life. Since meeting Lucy, she’s made me reevaluate those goals, and while it was getting me off my game, I welcomed it.
Lucy was different. She was unlike any other woman I had ever met. She tested me. I loved that. I loved being pushed, and she pushed all of my buttons and ruffled my usually neat feathers.
Officer Cortez had just left, taking the note for evidence with him and told us if anything else happened to let him know. No shit? Wasn’t that what I just did? I rubbed my eyes, and Logan set a beer down in front of me, placing his hand on my shoulder before giving it a thankful pat and walking away to vanish into his bedroom. I unscrewed the cap of the beer, and the carbonation gave the refreshing hiss. I didn’t worry about tossing the cap away; I left it on the counter and made my way toward Lucy’s room.
A beautiful woman waited for me. Before I got too far away from my briefcase, I backtracked and took out my sketch pad and pencils. I was tired, but I wanted to draw while I sat with Lucy, even if it was in silence, her being there was enough. I wanted to fuck her more than I wanted to inhale my next breath, but I didn’t think she was ready for that, especially with this Brian situation going on.
I wouldn’t push, someone like Lucy was worth the wait, even if that meant the wait slowly killed me because of my blood flow being redirected to my cock all day every day. I was afraid I was halfway in love with the woman, and considering I had never loved before, I didn’t know if what I felt was real.
I still debated if it was lust, but there was an underlying feeling that was stronger than lust, stronger than the need of being inside her. I just wanted to be with her, next to her, feel her heat, hear her voice. For the first time in my life, over the course of those five days not speaking to her and only stealing quick touches, I missed someone.
I missed her.
Another reason why I was here and that I couldn’t have her unprotected with her ex out there, lingering. I noticed the door cracked to her bedroom, so I pushed it open, the hinges slightly creaking to reveal her personal space.
To my left, I heard the tub running behind a shut door. I smirked. Did she really think a door would be enough to keep me away? Her bedroom was nice, simple, yet reflected her as a person. She had a queen size bed in the middle of the room with a canopy above it, creating a veil on either side of the bed. The comforter was purple, a deep eggplant color, and she had pictures hanging all over her walls in simple black frames. All the photos were in black and white, and they varied from flowers and trees to meadows and the stars in the sky.
I wondered if she took them. If so, she was talented. Why was she working for me if she could take pictures like that? I planned to find out. I unbuttoned my shirt and slung it on her mattress. I stripped down to my briefs and rolled my shoulders. It had been a hell of a day.
The tub turned off, and the ripple of water made my cock jump from knowing she was naked, and only a few feet away. My day had been rough, but my night was about to get better. With my sketchbook in hand and a heavy cock between my legs, I strolled to the bathroom and tried the doorknob.
It wasn’t locked. So she wasn’t keeping me away. That made me feel good. I expected a fight tonight. Unwilling to wait any longer, I made my way inside, and the steam and heat from the tub hit me in the face. The air smelt of roses, and the mirror fogged, so I couldn’t see my reflection. The tile was slick from the moisture hanging in the air. It made the grey slates appear darker than what they actually were.
And then there was the object of my desire, laying in the oversized clawfoot tub. Her hair cascaded down the back of the tub, almost touching the ground to keep from getting wet. It looked so red against the white of the tub. Bubbles covered her body, filling the tub to the rim. Her red-painted toenails peeked at the bottom by the faucet.
Lucy had her head tilted back, her eyes shut, relaxing in the hot water. I wanted to join her, but I also really loved the view from here. I closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, flipping my sketchbook open. I landed on a clean page and began a few messy strokes on the paper.
“What are you doing?” she said a few minutes later. She didn’t open her eyes, but she could hear the pencil scratching against the paper.
“Drawing the center of my attention.” I didn’t hesitate to say. I meant it. I had the majority of the tub drawn and the begin stages of her face. I had to make sure I got the shape right. I rubbed the paper with my pinky, smudging the charcoal a bit where the claws of the tub touched the ground.
The water rippled, and I lifted my head to see her staring at me. “You can draw?” her elbows folded on the edge of the tub, and she placed her chin on her arms. Her skin was red from the hot water and bubbles lingered on her shoulders and chest.
“I’m an architect. I sure hope I can, or the buildings would look terrible.” Since she moved her position, I had to go off just my memory with how she was laying before. It helped to reference her face now to make sure I got certain angles right.
She had the sweetest heart-shaped face. Lucy played with the bubbles, grabbing them, and then blew them off her palm. A few landed on my arm, and I watched as they popped until they disappeared, leaving my skin wet. “What made you want to be an architect?”
I did smaller strokes on the paper now and drawing small circles to imitate the bubbles. “I just loved to create things. It’s my passion. It isn’t often that I get to draw something that doesn’t involve work, so when I do, it’s a great stress relief.”