Page 218 of Powerhouse: Boxed Set
No, I wanted a piece of Lucian Morelli.
That’s all I wanted.
That’s all I needed.
I turned to find Tristan, but he was in the darkest corner of the room, his hands on Blue. I felt Stephen’s fingers squeezing mine, and he pulled me with him.
“I’m staying at Blue’s drummer’s place a few blocks down. We’ll walk.”
I reached back for something, but my mind was dazed as he tugged me. What was I reaching for? He answered me.
“Another beer for the road,” he said and shoved a bottle in my hand. “Cheers,” he added and clinked his drink against mine.
“Cheers,” I said as he dragged me outside.
It was cold, and my stilettos were noisy on the sidewalk. He didn’t care. He kept on tugging me, kept on telling me about how amazing he was, and how damn amazing his songs were. He sang one to me as we crossed the street at the end of the block, and I remembered his voice from the club, looking up at him and seeing the darkness in his eyes all over again.
Lucian.
He stopped us next to a late-night store and ran inside to get some cigarettes. He lit one up as soon as we left, offering it over. “Want a smoke?”
I wanted a line of coke. I was done with the denial. I wanted a damn line of coke.
I reached under my arm for my clutch, but it wasn’t there. Crap, I lost my clutch. I stopped in my tracks and cast the cigarette to the ground. Where the fuck did I leave my clutch?
I patted myself down, even though there was no way it could be anywhere on me. I glanced back at the street behind us, but it was nowhere in sight on the sidewalk.
“I’ve lost my clutch,” I told Stephen, and he laughed.
“I’ve lost my cigarette, so I guess we’re even.”
I tried to pull backwards up the street, but he held me firm.
“My clutch…” I said, but he didn’t move.
“You don’t need your clutch, Lainey,” he told me. “You need my cock.”
I did need my clutch, and the cocaine that was inside it. Lucian Morelli took it, but I’d replaced it. I need it now. I need something to take away this strange sensation.
Stephen pulled me along again, holding me tight. “You need some good cock, Lainey. And that’s what I have. You know? The best fucking cock.”
His muscles were solid against my side, and his eyes were dark with want as he lit up a fresh cigarette. I waved away his offer of a drag.
Lucian.
I had no idea where we were headed, other than some drummer’s place in some street downtown. My footsteps obeyed the man at my side, my stilettos still loud underneath me. His hand moved to my ass and squeezed, and it made me flinch.
He laughed. “I hope you know my dick takes every hole I want.”
I didn’t laugh back, but my footsteps stumbled forward. I couldn’t seem to stop.
“Drink up,” he said and tipped my beer back against my mouth. It dribbled down my chin, even though I swallowed as fast as I could. “Almost there,” he told me.
The jangle of keys in his hand told me we were there. We climbed some metal stairs, which were dangerous for me with my heels. My heart raced, but I kept on moving.
He opened the door at the top, and the drummer’s apartment was a shithole, bottles and duvets strewn all over the floor. It stank of cigarette smoke, just like Stephen did.
“Now give me that pussy,” he said and slammed me into the nearest wall.
