Page 19 of Staying for Her

“Oh quit the crap. You’re only with my brother for his money. You know that marrying him will make him a millionaire and so you’re sticking it out so you can get some of the loot. You’re trash and should be treated as such,” Lena says, glaring at Billie and I wonder for the millionth time why I’m still here.

I don’t need to be, I did what they asked. I got engaged, I showed up here and took their abuse and now I’m doing what I should have done from the second we walked up those steps.

“That’s it,” I say, standing and taking Billie’s hand in mine. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you as you berate my woman for having a passion, something none of you have. All you care about is money, status, and what everyone at the club thinks of you, and it’s fucking sad.”

“Son, that’s enough,” my father hisses, his eyes murderous, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

“No, Dad, I won’t allow you to sit there and attack Billie for not living up to your standards. This woman right here is better than all of you put together. She’s kind without wanting anything in return, she’s smarter than anyone I have ever met and she makes me happy. That should be enough for you to see and accept that this is happening, but I guess it’s not. So if you’re going to sit there and attack her for something that makes her amazing, then we’re leaving.”

I look down to see Billie’s eyes fill with tears, and I know it’s time to leave. So without looking back or waiting for any of my family to say a word, we walk out.

Billie

The silence is deafening as we drive home. I’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to find a way to help him, but the anger just keeps melting off him and no matter what I think will work, nothing seems sufficient.

I knew going into that house that things would be bad. I come from a simple background, one of slight poverty and humility, and the second I stepped foot in that grotesque mansion Lucas used to call home, I knew his family would disapprove of me. I expected judgmental looks, whisperings here or there, maybe even a snide comment or two made in passing. What I didn’t expect was sitting in front of them as they berated me for my way of life, my career, and my education. It was like being set in front of a firing squad and being told to take it.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asks, pulling into the parking lot of our building and putting the car in park.

I didn’t even realize we made it home, and now that his eyes are on me, the silence dissipating and his question lingering in the air, I don’t know. How are you supposed to feel when you just got judged for being who you are?

“Are you okay?” I deflect, spinning the question back on him because right now I can’t answer for myself. “That was intense,” I admit, sitting with my face forward and my eyes trained on the brick wall in front of us.

“No kidding,” he mutters before taking one of my hands in his and placing it on his lap. “I need to know that you’re okay. I need to know because I never expected them to act that way. I never thought—”

I squeeze his hand, interrupting his spiraling thoughts as my eyes catch his. “I know.” My smile is weak, but it’s there. “I don’t blame you for any of this.”

He shakes his head, his eyes pleading with me and for the life of me, I can’t figure out what for.

“Lucas, none of what happened today is your fault.”

“Yes it is, if it wasn’t for our deal, you never would have stepped foot in that house, never would have been subjected to the barrage of hate they flung at you… I can’t believe they said those things to you…”

His breathing becomes ragged, his eyes glass over and I know he’s about to have a panic attack. So I do the only thing that comes to mind… I crawl onto his lap, straddling his waist as I take his face between my hands and wait for his eyes to meet mine.

“Breathe, honey. Breathe with me.” I take a deep breath, hoping he does the same and when his fingers dig into my hips, his chest rising with mine, I breathe out, relief filling my veins when he does the same.

The color comes back to his face, his breathing begins to even out and his eyes begin to focus. It’s not until I look down that I realize just how much my skirt has ridden up my hips, Lucas’s eyes tracking my every move as I start to move off him.

“No,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Don’t go yet.”

I nod, staying silent as his hands lightly brush against my thighs, over and over again until he reaches the hem of my dress.

“You called me honey.”

I nod, the blush creeping up my cheeks as a small smile flickers over Lucas’s face.

“I liked it,” he admits, his fingers digging into my flesh, slowly pulling me closer.

“You did?” I whisper, taking a deep breath as the air around us changes from anxious to charged in a second.

He nods, his eyes flicking to my lips before he leans in and places the softest of kisses on them.

“I like it a whole fucking lot,” he mutters against my mouth as he takes the kiss from innocent to X-rated in no time at all.

I love the way his lips take me, the way his fingers grip my flesh as he pulls me flush against his chest. I bask in the way he hardens under my touch, the way he groans when my fingers find their way into his hair and pull lightly as the car fills with our mingled breaths.

“I need to get you inside,” he whispers, his lips trailing down my neck and toward my chest.

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